Monday, January 24, 2022

Monday

We woke up to more freshly fallen snow. Once again, there is great beauty just outside the farmhouse window.




Still and quiet. Gentle and calm.



We will get that Arctic blast by nightfall, but for now, it's just plain old winter cold. Nothing unusual, nothing to keep us housebound.

Breakfast first though. Keep that hot oatmeal coming!




Afterwards, I think once again about stuff. I want to empty out the farmhouse more and I have to devise a better way to do it than just to walk around each room and see what items throw themselves at me in their uselessness. Stuff. Why do we bring so much of it into our homes? I tell my Polish friends who bought my Warsaw apartment that I am not going to think twice about what's there. They can take it all, along with the keys to the unit. Those sweet spoons from Paris? That blanket from Scotland? Nice, but I don't need them here. I have plenty of blankets, plenty of pretty spoons. Trinkets, big and small, belonged to an era that is quickly passing (of frequent travel to my own place in my country of birth).  I wanted to see if Warsaw is still a big chunk of who I am. Turns out it may be, but I don't need a constant reaffirmation of that. And I don't need a physical space (with physical objects in it) to feel that my roots are deeply wedged into the neighborhoods and streets of that city.

 

Monday is not a day I typically spend with the kids -- rather, I catch up with all that loads my todo lists from the week before. Typically. But today, Snowdrop really wanted to skate and since much of the rest of the week will be too freezing for words, I agreed to pick her up at school and head out to the local park rink.

(gaga, can I borrow your scarf? sure!)






(skating selfie)



I take her home afterwards and I linger there for a bit. It's the first time no one in the household is under quarantine! Sparrow just came home from school and Sandpiper is a little dazed by the sudden tumult, as older kids, a sitter, mommy and gogs all descend at once. 






Still, it's good to see them all again, without masks and inside a warm space!

 


 

 

From there it is a mad dash to pick up Ed before the sun sets. No great ambition for today's skiing -- just our local park. It's cold alright, but we stick it out. Ribs and knee? Best ignored. Can't pass up a beautiful ski run in the sunset. 

 

 

 

Inhale, exhale. Smile.

 


 


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