Friday - 273rd

Some weeks end with a tired whimper, some end with a bang. Basically, you never know what a Friday will bring.

I wasn't too optimistic this morning. The weather? My daughter called it when she said it was gloomy. With a drizzle to make you really regret being outside.

Breakfast? Well, Ed was so sound asleep that I did not wake him for it.

 

(Though I think he is programmed to pick up the sound of my coffee machine churning out my little cup of espresso, because halfway through my morning meal, he stumbles downstairs. What a guy!)

 

The kids come immediately after. Snowdrop had already gone through a couple of school sessions at home and I wonder if she is spent, because the first thing she does is throw herself on the orange couch and proclaim that she needs a rest. And a bowl of fruit. And a book.

(Sparrow, however, is set to play.)

From then it's uphill all the way. You could not ask for a smoother set of hours!

Nor a calmer execution of the school project, where the kids are asked to cut out a mitten book and a half dozen animal shapes, color in the shapes, title the book and paste in the shapes, all in fifteen minutes. Sparrow is transfixed. (Me too, at the needed speed and alacrity.)

And finally, one could not imagine a more energetic, enthusiastic pretend play.

 

 

 

When I finally pull them out to go home, they are reluctant to go out at all. It is snow-raining. You know the type: slush falling in globs out of the sky. But, tell a kid it's glorious and exciting and they'll believe you! (I have some spare caps to keep their heads dry! Sparrow borrows mine. Snowdrop says it makes him look like an elf...)

After dropping the kids off at home, I hesitate for a brief few minutes...

 

 

 

I have to decide where to take this unexpectedly good day/

Want to go take a walk in the county park? -- I ask Ed. He hesitated, but only for a minute.

We surely are close the hour of sunset, though who can tell. It's dark. The snow-rain is beginning to be more snowy than rainy, but it's sufficiently wet out there that no one else is in the park's parking lot. We are going to have the place to ourselves.

And it is just lovely! Wet, sure, but not too cold. Cleansing! A real forest bath!

And here's a bonus for when we get home: Primrose, my Chicago grandgirl, calls! She sings, she selects books, she tells me what she learned in school on this day.

And so ends another week of isolation at the farmette. We're well, the house is warm, the kids here and in Chicago are doing okay! We are lucky. And grateful.