Thursday, March 10, 2022

Thursday

So it's a little cold, so what. Alright, not a little cold. Very cold. The tail end of winter always returns for an encore performance, both in terms of cold weather and snow. We forgive it in the same way we forgive summer heat waves in September. I turn the kettle on and brew a berry blast tea and luxuriate in the warmth of the farmhouse. Because really, given what's going on in other cold corners of the planet, it's noting short of luxury to sit in a warm room and sip berry blast tea.

(But it was a cold walk to the barn.)




Dance, our once feral cat, insisted on joining us for breakfast. She has come to really love sitting at the table (well, on the table) for the morning meal, and on the couch, right between us, for dinner. (Yes, Ed and I eat dinner on the couch. Don't tell anyone.)



So here we are, immersed in out various projects, with a cat at the side, making sure we don't stray or misbehave.




The afternoons are a little crazy this week (and next week), because I need to fit stuff in. For example, the little girl needs a hair trim, so after school, I take her to a place she hasn't seen since before the pandemic. I've been trimming her hair at home and it's been looking a little jagged.






And yes, we have some solid play/book time at the farmhouse, but I have to hustle toward evening, because we are charged with picking her brother up at school. Right here, where Snowdrop pickups once took place (before she switched to the public school in her neighborhood). Hi Sparrow!




We drive home.

I try not to linger at my daughter's home -- farmhouse dinners have been running very late in recent times -- but, with three kids, one daughter and one son-in-law to catch up with, it's hard to leave.




Looking back now, it doesn't seem like such a crazy busy day, does it? But as usual, I'm wondering why evening came so fast. One minute I'm feeding the animals in the barn, the next I'm eating popcorn on the couch with Ed. Is it just me, or has our perception of time changed now that we are not so immersed in the details of the pandemic? Time moved slowly two years ago. Not any more. With more to do, the days are starting to feel loaded. Like a packed snowball speeding down an incline. The fatter it gets, the faster it goes.

Still, we're heading into the spring season. I suppose getting there quickly can't be all bad!


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