that extra day

The other day I tried to explain to Snowdrop how in most years, we'd be onto March this Saturday. It wasn't a full explanation of the counting method that gives us a leap year, and I certainly didn't mention the fact that leap years don't fully solve the problem -- there are still eleven minutes that need an adjustment every hundred years, but still, the point was made: this year we have an extra February day on our plates.

Not many people up north love the last days of February, so you have to wonder why did we add another day to this month? I mean, why not spring us with an extra April day every four years instead?

Still, today is absolutely lovely here, in Wisconsin. Maybe a little cold (we went over the freezing point, but only a touch, and only for an hour or two), but sunny as can be. More please! May March shower us with more sunshine!



And how did you spend this extra February day? For us, it was sort of strange. After the rush to fit everything in yesterday, we came to a grinding halt with my mom's transfer today. It's the weekend and so I cannot move ahead with anything. We'll pick up speed again on Monday, but today was a day for sitting on our hands and waiting.

Well, not just that of course. There was breakfast.






And lots of reading. And in the late afternoon, when we did that crossover to 33F (0.5C), Ed and I went for a walk. He wanted to be ambitious and head out into the wilderness, but I pointed out that most everything is still covered with ice and slip sliding along a trail isn't exactly fun, so we walked as we sometimes do come wintertime, along the road that snakes it's way along Lake Waubesa.

(pretty rural scenery...)






(a bit of Norman Rockwell, no?)






Ed thought it would be fun to cut across the lake on our return...





I said -- go right ahead, I'll take the road and meet you on the other side. I do not like walking on a frozen lake. Yes it seems solid. I guess.
He responded -- chicken.
I made clucking noises.


A late winter sun is lovely, too, inside the farmhouse. In the course of the day, it travels from one room to the next, along walls and tables...






... and gives us that sense of well being that comes from feeling warm and safe, even though, if you glance at the news, there's every reason to feel anxious and despondent. It's as if that extra dabble of light reminds us that there are bright spots out there to behold. For sure.