You have to feel at least a little guilty for loving this weather so much. Surely it's not normal to near 50F (10C) three days before Christmas. Not in Wisconsin. Scarves tossed aside, furry boots stand idle, snow shovel leaning needlessly close to the farmhouse door. So it's warm. Perhaps best of all, it's sunny. That glorious light, streaming into the farmhouse from the east, then south, then west. You cannot get enough of it on these short days!
(Kitty, leave those lights alone!)
Breakfast...
... is followed by the usual new routine, though I mix things up so as not to fall into a rut. Holiday wrapping, mom stuff, house cleaning, mom stuff, and then Ed and I break out and go for a serene and quiet walk in the forest.
(Ed gets ready to set out; cheepers watch, with hope...)
No traffic noise, no beeps, tings, meows, vrooms.
Just dry oak leaves, which stay on the tree until spring, rustling every time a breeze kicks them up a bit.
We come to the Brooklyn Wildlife Area for this view:
And for the forest, no longer flooded with hunters. Just sunshine.
At home again, I fix supper for the young family's Sunday visit.
You could say it is an evening of dinner and dancing...
A lovely moonlight serenade to these fine days...
(Kitty, leave those lights alone!)
Breakfast...
... is followed by the usual new routine, though I mix things up so as not to fall into a rut. Holiday wrapping, mom stuff, house cleaning, mom stuff, and then Ed and I break out and go for a serene and quiet walk in the forest.
(Ed gets ready to set out; cheepers watch, with hope...)
No traffic noise, no beeps, tings, meows, vrooms.
Just dry oak leaves, which stay on the tree until spring, rustling every time a breeze kicks them up a bit.
We come to the Brooklyn Wildlife Area for this view:
And for the forest, no longer flooded with hunters. Just sunshine.
At home again, I fix supper for the young family's Sunday visit.
You could say it is an evening of dinner and dancing...
A lovely moonlight serenade to these fine days...