To remind you: I am scrambling to meet a deadline and so my efforts are directed elsewhere yesterday and today and perhaps even tomorrow.
Were I to be posting my usual reflections on farmette life, as experienced by me here in the south central corner of Wisconsin, I would certainly write about the pain of seeing what is happening to Poland's friend and neighbor -- the Ukraine. My grandmother was born in that region. She was Polish, but Poland wasn't on the map in the years of her childhood and the place where she lived is now part of the Ukrainian nation. I would write about how horrible it is to live under the threat of invasion from your neighbor, the aggressor seeking control over your people and territory (I speak from experience). Ocean looks for good things in a day, but I would not be able to not write about the Ukraine.
You would also be reading here about today's Tlusty Czwartek -- the Polish equivalent of Mardi Gras. It's when we eat paczki (Polish doughnuts) by the dozen. My friends in Warsaw discussed the virtue of one bakery over another. My daughter in Chicago texted me a photo of paczki that may make it to her table at home. I miss a good paczek (that's the singular for paczki). I'd write that here.
And I would probably mention the weather. So often, I mention the weather. It normally sets the day for us, but honestly, when you are reading and writing all day long, you hardly notice it. So, in an usual move, I offer no weather report.
Surely I would throw out a note about our breakfast flowers...
And most certainly I would tell you about my bringing little Snowdrop here after school.
(picking up anything in sight)
She was playful alright... But mostly we read. Together. For hours. She would not, could not let go of the story (Graphic novels: Click then Camp). Even though I found out afterwards that she had read the book before.
And finally, I'd tell you that Sandpiper was his usual happy, happy self, moving now through the house like a little rocket. One minute out of sight and you'll catch him munching on a shoe. Sandpiperr!!
So, again, with apologies I'm going to sign off quickly and get back to my manuscript. Remember, you promised to be patient!
With thanks, from your hunkered down friend here at the farmhouse while the winds howl and the icy snow swirls wickedly around us.
