farmette vacation, continued

I wake up to a cloudy, drizzly day. Oh, they say it wont rain. And then they say it will rain. Storm perhaps. Maybe not. Who knows?!

I let the cheepers out and admire the garden. Sometimes a flower is made special by the background. One more yellow day lily? Yawn. There are dozens in various garden locations. Ah, but against these flowers? Special.






Of course, all flowers are special. Though some benefit from their unusual presentations. (These irises remind me of a shaggy sheepdog...)






And here's what else I notice this morning: the raspberries are getting ripe! What great timing!






Snowdrop is up shortly after 8, which is a whole hour before her usual wake up time. I'm not surprised. She has always been an early riser at the farmhouse. I feed her a hearty mushy breakfast and then call down a somewhat sleepy Ed when she is nearly done and I'm about to begin. Snowdrop loves to eat in the company of others.











We don't linger, because this time I know there is a gym class this morning. And I'm very enthusiastic about the idea of her doing something physical on this rather iffy (weather wise) day. Snowdrop has a lot of energy...






... and she loves to challenge herself physically and has too few opportunities for it.


In fact it is a great place for her to move about.






Over, under, around and through...











...she unleashes her inner mountain climbing skills.






But what impresses the teacher most is that she takes to the balance beam without hesitation, shaking off any assistance.






A little gymnast is born!

(What next?)




Snowdrop, class is over. 

We visit Paul's coffee shop and then, so long as the weather continues to be unpredictable, we go again to the library just across the street.






A moment to put the body to rest and the mind to work, though I suppose for most of us, it'll always be a combination of the two that makes us grow and prosper.

(Which book now? So many to choose from!)






At home, after her bath, she again chooses to read ...






... but I'm thinking the gym hour has left its imprint!






After her lunch, I tell her we can pick raspberries. She zeros in right for the best of the best.






What? Only one left?






The cheepers follow us everywhere, which is okay by Snowdrop.

(I can make myself small like you...)






We play hide and seek by the willow...






Then she does her solo power walk around the gardens...






While I continue to admire the summer colors around us.











(It is a great year for lavender!)






(Yet another beautiful combination...)






(Sometimes, you just have to step back and take in the larger picture. Or at least one corner of it...)






And when Snowdrop notices me sweeping the walkway, she insists on helping with the task. I haven't the heart to tell her that it's no use sweeping wood chips.






And the afternoon? Well, those storms again pass us by. So we play outside. With puffs and flowers and silly things that make the girl so very happy.










What do we all eat tonight? I go back to a favorite quick dish that I fixed years ago, when I was myself a young mom and times were rushed -- gnocchi with marinara sauce. Snowdrop obviously has the "I love gnocchi" gene. She eats possibly more than either Ed or I do. And she still has room for rhubarb cake and cream.

She protests going to bed. Ed asks -- why not let her stay up? I have to smile at that. He'd be the parent who would let the kids stay up. And read comic books in bed and fix bikes side by side when the season called for it. So many ways to parent or grandparent! So many ways to do well by your little ones!

Ed and I watch the Brexit results late into the night. When times get tough, people run and say "no..." You'd think it would be the opposite. We're an odd fish, aren't we?

farmette vacation

It was a dramatic sunrise.






That's the benefit of being up with the cheepers -- you will see the dramatic sunrises.

We're expecting heavy storms today and of course, I'm both grateful and apprehensive. Like, how heavy is "heavy?" And when?

I pause to admire the flowers that are now showing their lovely faces. In the world of day lilies, the yellow ones are often the first to emerge, but of course, to me they're not just yellow. Take a look at these three -- tinges of apricot, one ruffled, another -- with a creamy sweetness to it.
















Okay, there is in fact more to life than day lilies. And more to a garden.


(Looking toward the farmhouse...)






And more to a day.

Breakfast on the porch.






And then I am off to pick up Snowdrop for her farmette vacation. Presumably without interruptions this time.

Still in her pj's, she wiggles out of my grasp, so that she can say hi to the cheepers. And the garden.






I skip the morning bath and change her into what I would call gym clothes. There is a tumbling program in one of the little kid gyms nearby and I swear there's a session for her age group today.


Ready for gym, little one?
Can I take bunny rabbit?
Maybe not.






Well, she may be ready for gym and I may be ready for her to be at gym, but the gym isn't ready for us. Wrong schedule, wrong time. We'll try again another day. But in the meantime, we are right next to Paul's cafe. We can stock up on Ed's favorite pickles and get a treat for ourselves (a bite of a cheese danish, which she only mildly likes).






And we're close to the library -- a perfect distraction for this morning. Apparently many others agree. We come across a roomful of moms and their babes/toddlers/kids. Parents need that break where their kids go crazy while the adults sit in a circle and talk. Snowdrop, however, is a little taken aback by the noise and chaos. She moves away from the racket, all the while aware of the movement of little ones (they always intrigue her).






She finds a quiet corner for a moment with a book...






But then takes my hand and leads me to the center of the chaos. She definitely wants to observe from up close.






It strikes me how quiet her world is at home or at the farmette. At the library today, things are not quiet.






Okay, sweet child, time to get back to the farmhouse for that postponed bath. And a romp with grandpa Ed.






And some real quiet time, staring mightily at a picture of a pond in a Paris park.






When does the world begin to make sense to a little one? By 17.5 months, is there logic between one act and the next? One day and the next? I tell her today is Wednesday. When does that label begin to matter?

In the afternoon, we have a big event: a dump truck arrives with more wood chips to offload. Snowdrop loves big trucks and she is fascinated by the entire process, though... at a distance.






(Chickens, on the other hand, are her best friends forever.)






She wants to stay outside and this time, I let her roam free. I don't watch her like a hawk. I watch her like a grandma who wants to give her the confidence to explore.






(What are you doing, grandpa Ed?)






(Picking you up like a football, Snowdrop!)






(Me, I notice the flowers. Here's a day lily that's not just... yellow toned!)






I wait for that predicted rumble of storms, but it never comes. Still, I think it's a fine day to make rhubarb cake with Snowdrop.
















And of course, I make the bean enchilada dinner that I know she loves from home. (Yes, confirmed. She eats like a little pony. And yes, there's plenty of room for cake. With whipped cream. Because it's a special week.)

You want your grandchild to have a great time during a visit. But even more, you want her to grow in confidence and self assurance. Today it's grandma's, tomorrow college, after all.

But today it's grandma's. And that's a very fine thing indeed.