Thursday

Slippery icy surfaces, gray skies, and a stillness that settled in, as if to trap the winter gloom, keeping it in place day after day after day.

The chickens hate this. They walk slowly and sometimes they seem stuck -- frozen on an icy stretch that is so unkind to their bare feet.






I go out and pick up first Java, then Peach and carry them to their destination (the garage). Normally, you cannot pick up a free ranging chicken in broad daylight. Only at dusk do they grow limp and sleepy and easy enough to handle. But today, the girls were oh so willing to have me help them along.

Breakfast. I'm scraping the fridge.






We're out of a lot of foods because last week I had shopped on Thursday. And so this week I must also shop on Thursday. That would be today.

It always amazes me how long this weekly ritual takes. Finding the best produce fills a good half hour. Maybe more. Another 45 minutes goes to reading dates and labels on everything else. By the time I am home, it's noon. And there goes another 45 minutes in unpacking and shelving the purchased foods. And when I'm done with that, the kitties are asking for food again.






How quickly the day goes by!

Thursday is storybook ballet day for Snowdrop and so the time for reading and playing at the farmhouse is limited.






(Not so limited that you can't take off your socks and make flags of them!)






(Or take a moment to show what really counts...)






So starts ballet again...






I believe the story is the Princess and the Pea. I could be wrong. I pay attention mostly to the face of Snowdrop. Her joy is worth capturing and preserving.





It's always late when I return home after ballet days. The skies are dark, the deer have come and gone. Cheepers are in the coop, eyes closed. Another January day at the farmette behind us. Tomorrow, we'll kiss January goodbye.