We're coming upon a confluence of important (in my view) events: tomorrow the young family comes up for the weekend. They leave Sunday. I leave Monday, I come back Sunday, Ed leaves Wednesday, the holidays are upon us shortly after. In between, there are the awesome twosome here each day after school.
It makes for an interesting set of days.
We start in on the day early. I feed the cats, noticing that there is a bloody trail inside -- another hunt at night must have netted a chipmunk or mouse. Dance in fact is out at this moment. When I call her, she shows me another mouse dangling from her mouth. A hunt for the challenge if not always the food. Dance drops her catch and follows me to the sheep shed for real food, leaving me to take care of burial rites.
After, I have this bone scan, fitted into the schedule because no Badger team member had come into the clinic with a training injury today. The scan will tell me how much freedom of movement I'll have in the days ahead. I suspect I'll face some recovery limitations, but hey, I'm just guessing. I really have no idea. I may wind up with crutches before the week is through. There will be adventurous adjustments no matter how you slice that pie!
Ed and I go to Finca Cafe following my appointment. I am always so happy there: the music, the floor to ceiling windows on three sides, the lovely people who work behind the counter, the fireplace. You don't have to work at hygge when you're there -- it enfolds you into the community of cafe people in the pleasant aroma of good coffee and baked quesadillas.
At home, I hurry through chores. The last bulbs to plant, Ed's hair to cut and beard to trim, seeding the young orchard meadow, posting signs warning of cats and chickens at play -- these are musts on my list. We get to most of them.
(haircut for Ed: one of my better ones...)
In the early afternoon, I pick up the kids. I have an agenda for us and I count on them to help me meet the demands of the afternoon. And they do. Cheerful and cooperative, happy and playful.
(first stop -- coffee shop. How many times have I taken Snowdrop here! Well, today, I take both.)
(Bangs trim for Snowdrop. They do it for her at Bang Salon, right by the coffee shop)
Farmhouse, at last!
(A game of "orange catch" with ahah)
Sparrow still loves being held, but he'll substitute that for a long (handheld) walking session most anytime. And here's another sweet thing about the boy: He loves to come up for the reading of a chapter from Snowdrop's book, even though we're sure he understands very little. He's a sweet presence on the reading couch.
(On the floor again, they sometimes do get lightly in each others way. He wants what she wants, she wants what he wants...)
It's dance day for Snowdrop and I haven't yet figured out an easy way to transport everything and everyone punctually to dance class. I mean, we make it on time, but toward the end of the run to class, I'm holding Sparrow as if he were a slippery hotdog leaving my grasp.
(Dance class)
And in the evening, the very late evening, I bake a rock fish with olive oil mayo, kefir, pickle juice and parmesan cheese. Bizarre? No, just my own take on a fisherman's recipe from the fish shares that we receive from Alaska each month.
My eyes stay open for the meal, for the posting, but just barely. The next goal: get a decent amount of sleep. It's now or not for a long time!
It makes for an interesting set of days.
We start in on the day early. I feed the cats, noticing that there is a bloody trail inside -- another hunt at night must have netted a chipmunk or mouse. Dance in fact is out at this moment. When I call her, she shows me another mouse dangling from her mouth. A hunt for the challenge if not always the food. Dance drops her catch and follows me to the sheep shed for real food, leaving me to take care of burial rites.
After, I have this bone scan, fitted into the schedule because no Badger team member had come into the clinic with a training injury today. The scan will tell me how much freedom of movement I'll have in the days ahead. I suspect I'll face some recovery limitations, but hey, I'm just guessing. I really have no idea. I may wind up with crutches before the week is through. There will be adventurous adjustments no matter how you slice that pie!
Ed and I go to Finca Cafe following my appointment. I am always so happy there: the music, the floor to ceiling windows on three sides, the lovely people who work behind the counter, the fireplace. You don't have to work at hygge when you're there -- it enfolds you into the community of cafe people in the pleasant aroma of good coffee and baked quesadillas.
At home, I hurry through chores. The last bulbs to plant, Ed's hair to cut and beard to trim, seeding the young orchard meadow, posting signs warning of cats and chickens at play -- these are musts on my list. We get to most of them.
(haircut for Ed: one of my better ones...)
In the early afternoon, I pick up the kids. I have an agenda for us and I count on them to help me meet the demands of the afternoon. And they do. Cheerful and cooperative, happy and playful.
(first stop -- coffee shop. How many times have I taken Snowdrop here! Well, today, I take both.)
(Bangs trim for Snowdrop. They do it for her at Bang Salon, right by the coffee shop)
Farmhouse, at last!
(A game of "orange catch" with ahah)
Sparrow still loves being held, but he'll substitute that for a long (handheld) walking session most anytime. And here's another sweet thing about the boy: He loves to come up for the reading of a chapter from Snowdrop's book, even though we're sure he understands very little. He's a sweet presence on the reading couch.
(On the floor again, they sometimes do get lightly in each others way. He wants what she wants, she wants what he wants...)
It's dance day for Snowdrop and I haven't yet figured out an easy way to transport everything and everyone punctually to dance class. I mean, we make it on time, but toward the end of the run to class, I'm holding Sparrow as if he were a slippery hotdog leaving my grasp.
(Dance class)
And in the evening, the very late evening, I bake a rock fish with olive oil mayo, kefir, pickle juice and parmesan cheese. Bizarre? No, just my own take on a fisherman's recipe from the fish shares that we receive from Alaska each month.
My eyes stay open for the meal, for the posting, but just barely. The next goal: get a decent amount of sleep. It's now or not for a long time!
