I am fairly sure (though by no means certain) that if Ed was panting his last breath, if he stopped eating and shriveled to nothing and could not articulate a clear thought, if his arms and legs would not respond to prompts and if his eyelids remained in a shut position -- if all that happened, then he would have me call the clinic to make an appointment to see a doctor. I have such confidence (though not total certainty) because after all, why else would he spend the money on Medicare insurance premiums? He must envision a circumstance when health care would be warranted.
But anything less than that -- forget it. If I have to hear one more time -- it's just a cold, I don't need to see a doctor, I will surely slam the door in his face.
In fact, he's probably right: he has a second cold on top of the first one. But you don't go see the doctor (necessarily) to make yourself feel better, you do it to make your partner feel better (or at least to get her to stop asking every few minutes -- are you feeling okay yet?).
On these beautiful January days, we've been seesawing between sniffles and knee swells and sniffles once more, feeling like this unusually warm winter month is somehow passing us by.
Still, sniffles and stiff knees not withstanding -- it is a beautiful week indeed! Stepping outside is total pleasure. We don't wait for the other to feed the animals in the morning.
I'll do it!
No, I'll do it.
We both do it.
(It never fails to surprise me that Stop Sign is afraid of the cheepers. One cat paw on their noses would send them running, but she prefers to simply side step and keep her distance. As Ed said, it's kept her alive this long, so she must know what she's doing!)
Breakfast, early because I need to fit in a grocery store trip this morning.
And in the afternoon, little Snowdrop is at the farmhouse. I emphasize "little," because it is the last day when she is merely a three year old (no, three and a half, Gogs!). Four, to me, seems closer to school girl status. The toddler years are done. I watch her play, so often independently, always creatively, with that clever edge that she develops as she learns to finesse her own stories in life...
She doesn't want outdoor time today. Ah well -- it's getting pretty soppy out there. I expect by tomorrow, most of the snow will have melted.
We end the day playing with her Polish wooden carvings. I'm sure they were never intended for this, but today, they dutifully stood in line for ice cream, then visited an art museum.
Nearly four... Do you remember being nearly four?
The sun is low now -- so pretty to watch its fading light on the farmette lands!
Snowdrop returns home. Ed and I finish the construction project Josephina and Benjamin (the pretend construction crew) had started.
Go easy on your knee, gorgeous!
I'm glad you're feeling better, honey pot. You're feeling better, right?
Yes, gorgeous.
But anything less than that -- forget it. If I have to hear one more time -- it's just a cold, I don't need to see a doctor, I will surely slam the door in his face.
In fact, he's probably right: he has a second cold on top of the first one. But you don't go see the doctor (necessarily) to make yourself feel better, you do it to make your partner feel better (or at least to get her to stop asking every few minutes -- are you feeling okay yet?).
On these beautiful January days, we've been seesawing between sniffles and knee swells and sniffles once more, feeling like this unusually warm winter month is somehow passing us by.
Still, sniffles and stiff knees not withstanding -- it is a beautiful week indeed! Stepping outside is total pleasure. We don't wait for the other to feed the animals in the morning.
I'll do it!
No, I'll do it.
We both do it.
(It never fails to surprise me that Stop Sign is afraid of the cheepers. One cat paw on their noses would send them running, but she prefers to simply side step and keep her distance. As Ed said, it's kept her alive this long, so she must know what she's doing!)
Breakfast, early because I need to fit in a grocery store trip this morning.
And in the afternoon, little Snowdrop is at the farmhouse. I emphasize "little," because it is the last day when she is merely a three year old (no, three and a half, Gogs!). Four, to me, seems closer to school girl status. The toddler years are done. I watch her play, so often independently, always creatively, with that clever edge that she develops as she learns to finesse her own stories in life...
She doesn't want outdoor time today. Ah well -- it's getting pretty soppy out there. I expect by tomorrow, most of the snow will have melted.
We end the day playing with her Polish wooden carvings. I'm sure they were never intended for this, but today, they dutifully stood in line for ice cream, then visited an art museum.
Nearly four... Do you remember being nearly four?
The sun is low now -- so pretty to watch its fading light on the farmette lands!
Snowdrop returns home. Ed and I finish the construction project Josephina and Benjamin (the pretend construction crew) had started.
Go easy on your knee, gorgeous!
I'm glad you're feeling better, honey pot. You're feeling better, right?
Yes, gorgeous.
