Typically, Fridays are predictable for me: shop for food, play with Snowdrop, cook dinner, go to sleep. With a few small additions, of course, but this is the core.
But today, I wake up to a phone call, which is never a good thing. I mean, who calls anyone these days except to relay a worry? Sure enough, it's my older daughter, telling me that her husband had the gall to get sick (the sentence gives a transparent hint as to what's wrong). He is out of circulation (indeed, out of the home) for several days. Normally, I would step up and offer more of my services, but it just so happens that another grandparent is visiting right now and so I am actually free for the day, even as it is an unusual day because there is this festering anxiety that always makes an appearance when someone in the family isn't quite up to snuff or is under the knife.
In the short run, the weekend, which was supposed to include a sleepover for both kids at the farmhouse -- is now completely rewritten, though it is unclear yet in what fashion.
Everything is a little topsy turvy.
Well, okay, but the day is sunny, so one tends to feel optimistic about pretty much everything that comes along.
I come out to feed the cats. Hi, beautiful snowperson!
But where are the cats? Gone again. This time, I have no horrific images of the little ones being snatched by some feline predator. I know they must have walked off -- two babes, following their mom. But why???
Don't they like it here?
Ed tells me that some cats will roam. And that's fine, but why would you set out adventuring before you had your morning meal? That seems terribly ill advised, no?
They know you'll dash out with food the minute they come back!
If they come back. I suppose someday they'll just move on.
(Breakfast)
Oh but wait! Right around the noon hour they make an appearance again! All three! Where have you been in this bitter cold weather?? And yes, I'm immediately out there, scolding, feeding, fussing!
(Call it brunch)
(Followed by a nap)
In the afternoon, Ed and I go to the Arboretum with our skis. It takes a bit of pep talk (him to me, me to him) to get us out there -- I mean, it's really cold! -- but we do it!
And of course, it is so worth it. The light is beautiful, the snow is icy slick, and though there are no real ski runs, moving through the quiet of that vast woodsy space will take the wrinkles out of any day, really it will!
Toward evening, I get reports that things are on the mend for the young family and really, in a few days, all should be back to near-normal again. You know, the regular normal, where we move seamlessly between homes, school, work and play, and all is right and beautiful and not dramatic or slightly twisted at all.
But today, I wake up to a phone call, which is never a good thing. I mean, who calls anyone these days except to relay a worry? Sure enough, it's my older daughter, telling me that her husband had the gall to get sick (the sentence gives a transparent hint as to what's wrong). He is out of circulation (indeed, out of the home) for several days. Normally, I would step up and offer more of my services, but it just so happens that another grandparent is visiting right now and so I am actually free for the day, even as it is an unusual day because there is this festering anxiety that always makes an appearance when someone in the family isn't quite up to snuff or is under the knife.
In the short run, the weekend, which was supposed to include a sleepover for both kids at the farmhouse -- is now completely rewritten, though it is unclear yet in what fashion.
Everything is a little topsy turvy.
Well, okay, but the day is sunny, so one tends to feel optimistic about pretty much everything that comes along.
I come out to feed the cats. Hi, beautiful snowperson!
But where are the cats? Gone again. This time, I have no horrific images of the little ones being snatched by some feline predator. I know they must have walked off -- two babes, following their mom. But why???
Don't they like it here?
Ed tells me that some cats will roam. And that's fine, but why would you set out adventuring before you had your morning meal? That seems terribly ill advised, no?
They know you'll dash out with food the minute they come back!
If they come back. I suppose someday they'll just move on.
(Breakfast)
Oh but wait! Right around the noon hour they make an appearance again! All three! Where have you been in this bitter cold weather?? And yes, I'm immediately out there, scolding, feeding, fussing!
(Call it brunch)
(Followed by a nap)
In the afternoon, Ed and I go to the Arboretum with our skis. It takes a bit of pep talk (him to me, me to him) to get us out there -- I mean, it's really cold! -- but we do it!
And of course, it is so worth it. The light is beautiful, the snow is icy slick, and though there are no real ski runs, moving through the quiet of that vast woodsy space will take the wrinkles out of any day, really it will!
Toward evening, I get reports that things are on the mend for the young family and really, in a few days, all should be back to near-normal again. You know, the regular normal, where we move seamlessly between homes, school, work and play, and all is right and beautiful and not dramatic or slightly twisted at all.
