a very special Thursday

Of course every day is special. Of course. Ed and I agree on this. So that breakfast is special. Always. Every day.





And planning out a day is wonderful, too. I have a mental list of things to accomplish, foods to get ready for supper. It's all quite sublime.

But as we get closer to the holidays and I get closer to my departure date (it's not a long trip -- just ten days), I especially savor these early days of December.

It's not a drop dead gorgeous landscape right now. Not enough snow. But what little there is makes me pause to admire it. This photo is from my drive to Snowdrop's home. The fields are across the road from us and though I have not a small amount of regret that the landowner no longer wants to let the truck farmers plant their crops here, turning the land over to corn and soy farming instead, I do smile at his annual habit of putting a bike and a wreath out there for all to see. It's a modest decoration, but I do appreciate the effort.






At her house, Snowdrop wakes, eats, and gives that "let's go!" smile I so associate with her in the morning.






Yesterday's mall outing convinced me that we ought to get her more used to shoes and so I dig out the pretty pair in her closet and tell her that she should romp in them today. She pretended not to mind. For a minute. Clap clap clap your hands!






I had to roll her around on the floor to bring back the smile after that.






Bouncing high in the air helped too. Way up high, in the sky, Snowdrop will fly...






And one more sure fire winning activity: reminding her that there is this magnetic Christmas tree downstairs...






Oh, she does not want to leave it! Even after I tell her I'll be boiling water for tea -- something that we do daily and that thrills her no end (in a happy but terrified way, as we wait for the tea kettle to whistle) -- she does not want to leave that tree.






Nap time. Followed by a beautiful wake up. Well, it's nearly always a beautiful wake up!





And now comes the afternoon and the day takes on an additional patina of wonderfulness. Snowdrop and I pick up her mommy at work and the three of us make our way to our favorite holiday bakery -- Clasen's. We come here only during the Christmas season and we do so for that wonderful treat that is impossible to find anywhere else here (and it's so ever-present in Germany and, too, in Poland): chocolate covered gingerbread.

For Snowdrop, there is the added bonus: the life-size gingerbread house.  I brought my daughters here every year of their childhood (presumably it's not the same gingerbread house... surely they bake a new one each year?). And now it's Snowdrop's turn.






At first, she doesn't know what to make of it. But after running a finger across the surface, she realizes that it... is... sweet!






It gets better. Today is the day that she is given her first sugared delicacy. Clasen's always has samples of sweet stuff around and the raspberry spice cake becomes Snowdrop's first great indulgence.






Verdict? Oh, come on! Of course she loves it!






So much good stuff here! The girl just can't get enough of it! (what else? Cinnamon twist? Yum!)






Out of the cart again, she is thrilled with the crinkly paper and the ribbons tying each bag of cookies or candies.






Such a day!

And for me, it does not end with this.

I drive home smiling. It's been a good set of weeks. If I am sometimes out of hours, or a tad tired, it's for the best of reasons. My young families are thriving. The farmette is keeping it's own. The cheepers are resilient. And Ed -- he's as he always is: smart, steady and calm.

I'm feeling steady and calm myself.

And then at home, I find a package. It's from Dan, an artist  and an enduring friend of Ocean. An image of Snowdrop inspired him to paint. Here's his gift -- a painting so exquisitely beautiful that it truly makes me spin.






This isn't the place to thank Dan. That comes separately. But I do want to say that I have come across these beautiful spirits here on Ocean and it is so reassuring, so very reassuring, because I know that this is what we really do leave behind for our children and grandchildren. Generosity and love.

I'll leave you with that message.

Wednesday

We woke to a dusting of delicate snow. Such purity!





It's unusual that I do not check my computer throughout the day -- for mail, for news -- but today was such a day. I was so totally focused on the task of caring for Snowdrop that it wasn't until late, very late, that I realized there was yet another tragedy unfolding, this one in California.

My post is written with that total innocence of not knowing, not thinking about the vile instincts buried within the human soul.  In other words, it is written in the way that I always want to write it: with a belief that the quiet, the calm, the noble prevails.


Light snow. Nothing that would bring the skis out from the porch, where they rest waiting for a real workout...






But enough to make me smile as I go out to free the cheepers. Of course, the girls think that it's all too much for their delicate sensibilities. You can see them eyeing the world with some suspicion. You want to leave the barn for this? No? Me neither!






We had our share of wakeful hours at night, as Ed is still trying to manage his bronchial issues (but he's on an upswing!) and so not surprisingly, I crawl back to bed after my run to the barn. And then I proceed to sleep too late and so breakfast is a tad too hurried...






... and when I arrive at Snowdrop's home, she is already bathed and ready for play. Here's her what do you have in mind for today, grandma? moment.






But perhaps I should reinterpret that pose, because now that she moves with such freedom, and now that she knows how to get my attention and to bring out my own peels of laughter, she takes charge of her play. I can redirect, but the fact is, she has firm ideas about what she loves and what she wants to do.

From the beginning, she's insistent that I dance with her. Well, okay, that works for a handful of songs. But she is awfully close to 20 pounds and I'm awfully close to social security's official retirement age. I can switch her to bouncing on my knee for a while...





But inevitably, she'll come and raise her arms in that universal gesture of wanting to be held up up up! In her case, to the rhythm of some bouncy music. Jingle bells will do!

And speaking of the holidays, Snowdrop is keen on showing me her newest interest -- the magnetic advent calendar. Oh, does she love it!






It's pointless to tell her she is doing the countdown backwards. As I said, Snowdrop has strong views on matters of play.

Until she exhausts herself.

And then she is happy to snuggle on grandma's tummy ...





In the afternoon, I tell the girl: we're going to the mall!

This, of course, means nothing to her. To my knowledge, she'd only been to the mall once, with me (oh! -- what does this say about me??), when she was so wee that surely she recognized nothing but a blur of activity.

Today, I don't have a stroller with me, but I'm thinking surely there will be something at the mall for harried shoppers. If you're a mall manager, wouldn't you want to make life easy for the mommies or grandmas so that they would feel free to spend, spend, spend?

They do have something. For a fee. A huge car thing that I think surely will intimidate her. Should I spend the $5?

I put in my credit card. Having already hauled the babe across the entire mall (in search of the strollers), I need to put her down. Into something I can push.

It turns out she is natural at the wheel.






Here's a full view of the "stroller:"






Snowdrop is a determined driver!






After a few rounds, she decides climbing out is equally fun.






Alright, in you go, into the basket, little one! (While grandma returns some impulsive online purchases.)






We pop over to the Apple store to see if I am eligible for the new iPhone (no: 12 more days). This is her least favorite. Apple geeks seem to unnerve her. The store is brights, stark, cold. She is happy to be out.






At Payless, I have her try on shoes. No, I don't think so. Back they go.






And finally we drive back, to the peace of the farmette.






Such a beautiful place, in all seasons.

Snowdrop is in her sweetest, liveliest mood tonight. Here's a photo of her supper -- leeks and chicken mush, followed by strawberries. It may have been her first strawberry. I think in the end she likes it almost as much as the mush.






I'll end with a photo of our play of light on the wall. It always enchants her. And me. Stars, moons, Saturn and somewhere in there, our own troubled but so very beautiful Earth.

Tuesday

Driving in this morning to Snowdrop's home, I listened, as always, to the Market Watch segment of the news program on NPR. Some credentialed person was reporting that millennials who, in the past, may have chosen a career on Wall Street, are flocking instead to the Silicone Valley, in pursuit of jobs that are more path-breaking (think Uber rather than J.P. Morgan) and, importantly, come with their share of millennial perks -- more flexible hours, good healthy foods at work, access to the outdoors -- that kind of thing. The reporter noted -- in other words, they're going for the quinoa.

Well, I don't think Snowdrop meets the definition of a millennial, but surely she is the child of two such parents (is a millennial someone who reaches adulthood at the beginning of this millennium?) and sure enough, as I reach in the cupboard for something to give the little girl for her breakfast, I see there is a berry-banana-quinoa concoction there. I had to smile, having myself never tasted quinoa until I was about 60.



quinoa and berries, ey?


My own breakfast was with a sleepy Ed. Honestly, I did not think he was going to make it to the table, but he did, the good soul that he is...






And then off I went to Snowdrop's home.


After her breakfast, a few minutes of play in p.j.'s. There is a holiday theme here!






Okay, Snowdrop, let's get you dressed and pressed! (I have to say, Snowdrop sometimes reminds me of my own grandma: I hear that lip smacking in the little girl that I heard so often from my own "babcia!" Is it genetic??)






And here's the little girl exhibiting a skill that will come in handy once she learns about cookie jars...






Snowdrop had been just a touch under the weather for a bit and so not surprisingly, she is tired after all that play. Penguin to the rescue!






In the afternoon, she has spurts of energy...






Clap clap clap!






But she likes it best when I dance with her. Meaning, I dance and jump her up and down. Again and again and again. It's a tough request, but she is so happy, that I call forth all my energy.






There is a package delivery. She is so curious! I explain to her that those may be Christmas surprises. Oh, by the way, while we have her in the unusual pose from the back, let me comment on her weirdly amazing hair:






It's as if she was coiffed to the nines... In fact, it's just the way her hair falls.






Alright -- one last one, where the little girls asks Goldie, the rather staid cat, if she can please maybe please pet her. Goldie doesn't protest. Snowdrop utters her squeals of joy.






The photos end here, but the story of Snowdrop isn't always captured in the photos. In fact, she took her first solo steps today. Her parents were thrilled. I was thrilled. She was thrilled. The cats were indifferent.

the last of the regular Mondays

It's like that game of pick up sticks, where it's time for the sticks to go up in the air and come flying down again in a new arrangement. As the teaching semester draws to a close, so does my regular babysitting schedule. After this week, I'll be traveling and after I return, we'll have before me a different pattern of Snowdrop care.

In other words, time surely goes by quickly!

I wish I could say that it's a pretty day at the farmette. I guess one could search for that inner beauty and find it, like for instance here:





... but I do prefer the sunny days.

We eat breakfast in the kitchen (Ed's in a fresh new jacket which looks exactly like the old one, except it's without holes and it hasn't shrunk a couple of sizes).






We look out at the damp farmette gardens. Alright, Snowdrop and I will not be going out for a walk today.

Still, the little girl arrives at the farmhouse straight from her morning wake up time at home...






... and she is ready to discover and rediscover her familiar environment.



old penguin, new penguin book




but I still like the old penguin book!



And what has changed in the last few days? Well, she is a clapping girl now. Clap clap clap and smile! She puts her whole body and soul into it!






And she knows how to use props to help her climb to higher ground.






She'll then turn, consider whether walking is better than crawling...






For now, crawling wins. But that may not last!

Oh, but the little one is a speed demon. I turn around and she is gone. In the kitchen. Looking over my cooking equipment.






And so it continues -- a morning of absolutely delightful play.


The afternoon? We are at her home, where it's beginning to look a tiny bit like Christmas...






She'd been away for a few days and so here, too, she has a great enthusiasm for rediscovering the familiar.






... and the very familiar.






This girl makes the weather outside truly irrelevant. Yes, it was a very beautiful day!