Monday, February 25, 2019

Monday's little ones

Just as the Oscars were approaching the denouement -- the moment when the director prize was to be announced (I was especially curious if the Polish director of Cold War -- the movie my friend slipped into my suitcase when I was last in Warsaw -- would luck out and walk away with the big prize), Ed said -- we caught a mouse.

Such a relief! There may be another mouse. Indeed, there likely is another, but tonight's bold evening visitor has been tough to corner. I don't want to risk having it do a miraculous Houdini escape maneuver and so I suggest we set out to release the little devil right away.

I nearly miss the final Oscar prizes, but still, it's worth it -- we have a beautiful if cold night drive through a chilled and frozen landscape. We wish the mouse well and send him flying out into a clump of bushes.



This morning, the drop in temperatures is pronounced. Our front storm door looks like this:


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And the outside world looks like this:


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I am no longer surprised by what combination of cats will be there to greet me. Yesterday -- only Stop Sign. Today, no Stop Sign, only her babes, Jacket and Dance.


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They rest on the blanket, but, too, they take little forays along the path. Looking for mom? I think so, because when she shows up later in the day, they are ecstatic.


I need not remind you that it is Monday. We are back on schedule! Sparrow comes to the farmhouse just before breakfast. We play first. I haven't spent much time with the little guy in recent weeks and so I test the waters.

Turns out he's the same happy little guy. Well, not so little: Sparrow is fast outgrowing clothes sewn for a 12 month old.



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Breakfast, for my two guys.


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(I don't know that he loves sweet potatoes... Like nearly everything here for him, this is a hand me down from Snowdrop's baby days.)


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(When Sparrow is here with just the two of us, he tracks Ed's every move. Predictably, he likes it when Ed messes with him.)


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As for toys -- well, I give him choices: I reach into Snowdrop's piles and pull out what's safe. Duplo characters. A music cube. Sticky blocks.

It's not even close: he likes the music cube just fine, has not the slightest interest in the plastic characters, and plays enthusiastically with the sticky blocks. I'm just so amused by this: I mean, Snowdrop is a terrific builder of tall towers, but all her passion seems to run to her story filled hours of character play (big, small, plastic, plush, imaginary, real -- it hardly matters). Sparrow may still lean in that or any other direction, but today, he just wants to connect sticky blocks and occasionally, bang on the music cube.


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(Stop Sing shows up. More food, please!)


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And then I pick up Snowdrop (who eschews paths in favor of deeper snow.)


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(Did you really buy chocolate chip cookies just for me??)


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(What should we play...)


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(When I tell her I need to dash out for a sec to refill bowls -- Stop Sign had just returned -- Snowdrop insists on coming with me and doing the job herself. Stop Sign is no more afraid of her than she is of me.)


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(Oh that crunchy snow!)


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Inside again: we're playing "California, on a sunny day."


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(A pause for a review of "what's growing in California right now." The list is long.)


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As night settles in, Whiskers returns for round two of his food grab. Such a furry guy: if I didn't know any better, I'd say he' just a stuffed pillow, taking you along for the ride.


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Nigh time. There's  a forecast of more snow, but I'm not really listening. In February, you take one day at a time and you find the time to recognize and acknowledge its singular beauty. And secretly, you count the days til spring.