Just about a half hour before the sun crawls up over the horizon, I hear the tell tale noises of a little guy wanting to get up and out of bed.
("I'm up the earliest!" Don't I know it...)
And now comes my big mistake: Ed's asleep on the couch. Snowdrop is asleep upstairs. The shed cats are hovering on the porch. Calico and Cutie are somewhat intimidated. This is the time to get the shed cats out of their space by feeding them in the shed. I pick up Sparrow -- let's go for a walk to the shed!
I've become too cavalier with picking him up and carrying him. He's heavy and swift lifts are a path to trouble.
Indeed. In one of those quick lifts, I throw my back out.
I'll be paying the price for a good many weeks. It takes that long for a lumbar strain to heal.
("I'm a better breakfast eater!" Yes you are...)
It's such a beautiful day! Windy, but right around 40F (5C) (remember back in autumn, when that felt so cold?), and so very sunny!
Ed suggests a walk through our emerging, new neighborhood. We can take the stroller for Sparrow. Snowdrop grabs a couple of pinwheels. We're off!
Happy kids, happy grandma...
Except that Sparrow refuses to ride in the stroller. He walks the entire way.
Snowdrop, on the other hand, will not let the stroller go to waste.
I urge her to join her brother. She does. For a minute.
It's a beautiful time to be walking with the grandkids!
(Things a five year old can do that a one year old can only dream of...)
(Things that a one year old can do and is proud of doing: carry his own chair to wherever the spirit moves him.)
Lunch: they want pancakes and bacon. Done!
And then Sparrow naps and Snowdrop returns to her set ups and stories. And eventually the parents return from their weekend up north to take their kids home. [I know to many of you, we already live "up north," but to a Wisconsinite, up north means, well, many different things -- it's a geographic designation, though for some, it's a state of mind. Someone once said -- "up north is where cellphone service ends." Most, though, think of it as everything north of highway 8, which neatly separates the northern quarter of our state from everything else.]
You could say there is more to this day: Ed and I go out for another short walk (my whacked back is in no mood for anything more than that). We eat a quiet supper, watch one thing or another -- all lovely, all fine, but the weekend belongs to the kids, so I'll end with those images dancing before us. Kids, at the farmhouse, bathed in sunlight.
("I'm up the earliest!" Don't I know it...)
And now comes my big mistake: Ed's asleep on the couch. Snowdrop is asleep upstairs. The shed cats are hovering on the porch. Calico and Cutie are somewhat intimidated. This is the time to get the shed cats out of their space by feeding them in the shed. I pick up Sparrow -- let's go for a walk to the shed!
I've become too cavalier with picking him up and carrying him. He's heavy and swift lifts are a path to trouble.
Indeed. In one of those quick lifts, I throw my back out.
I'll be paying the price for a good many weeks. It takes that long for a lumbar strain to heal.
("I'm a better breakfast eater!" Yes you are...)
It's such a beautiful day! Windy, but right around 40F (5C) (remember back in autumn, when that felt so cold?), and so very sunny!
Ed suggests a walk through our emerging, new neighborhood. We can take the stroller for Sparrow. Snowdrop grabs a couple of pinwheels. We're off!
Happy kids, happy grandma...
Except that Sparrow refuses to ride in the stroller. He walks the entire way.
Snowdrop, on the other hand, will not let the stroller go to waste.
I urge her to join her brother. She does. For a minute.
It's a beautiful time to be walking with the grandkids!
(Things a five year old can do that a one year old can only dream of...)
(Things that a one year old can do and is proud of doing: carry his own chair to wherever the spirit moves him.)
Lunch: they want pancakes and bacon. Done!
And then Sparrow naps and Snowdrop returns to her set ups and stories. And eventually the parents return from their weekend up north to take their kids home. [I know to many of you, we already live "up north," but to a Wisconsinite, up north means, well, many different things -- it's a geographic designation, though for some, it's a state of mind. Someone once said -- "up north is where cellphone service ends." Most, though, think of it as everything north of highway 8, which neatly separates the northern quarter of our state from everything else.]
You could say there is more to this day: Ed and I go out for another short walk (my whacked back is in no mood for anything more than that). We eat a quiet supper, watch one thing or another -- all lovely, all fine, but the weekend belongs to the kids, so I'll end with those images dancing before us. Kids, at the farmhouse, bathed in sunlight.
