Friday

The first Friday of December is nearly always the day to buy a Christmas tree. Not for the farmhouse, but for my daughter's home.

Unfortunately, Snowdrop's parents have been working too hard and resting too little and so whatever bug torpedoed through their household hit my daughter especially hard. She's out sick.

The tree shopping could not be postponed -- it's an annual event sponsored by the Forestry Department of our university and the good trees last today and then puff! -- they're gone (the price is fantastic and the quality -- beyond good). But it became clear that Snowdrop would have to be my sole little elf helper in this adventure.

Breakfast first, of course. With a wild looking ahah!






At noon, I head for Snowdrop's school and I tell her that today we'll be going straight to the great big barn to pick out a tree for her home.

Most of the photos are from that brief but wonderous trip.






To say that she was excited to be in a big barn, looking at tall pines is an understatement.






It's a great place for her to romp and romp she does!






(We do also pick a tree. She's okay with this one.)






We play hide and seek...






... and she is so thrilled with life that she goes straight into her jumping high routine...






... to the delight of the students there (who then, of course, want to take a picture. Sure, why not!)






(Though I like this one best!)






A child's joy...

Gaga, big barn! Trees! Look, gaga!






My sick daughter feels sad at missing this brief little escapade. I tell her -- to Snowdrop, the joy in life is ever present.






The loading onto the car -- that's delightful too. She knows that the tree will be coming home with her later this evening.






After, I make a detour to the university Union. I need to get some bus tickets for a trip to Chicago (I get them at a discount there). I promise her a cookie for the inconvenience of having to get in and out of the car yet again, but I hadn't quite realized the Union is still pretty much a sorry state of reconstruction (how long??). The cookies are few and sad looking. But Snowdrop is easily diverted to a bagel and she spends a lovely set of minutes playing with the iconic (miniature) Union chairs. Arranging small things is a real talent of hers!






At the farmette, I suggest we give the remains of her bagel to the cheepers. It's getting mighty chilly now and I take out a cap, which she accepts readily enough.






A final few photos -- from the early evening, as Snowdrop plays her usual games with us...











(When ahah returns to his computer, she is insistent: ahah do yoga! ahah do sun salutations!)





So there is a tree (delivered, along with Snowdrop to her home tonight). There is a little girl with a love of its pine branches. There is December. I'd say we're all set!

Thursday in photos

Friends stopped by just as we were sitting down to breakfast. It's a good way to start the day: with people.






But I have a long list for today and so I bow out quickl after I polish off my oatmeal. It's my day for buying things the old fashioned way: by going to actual stores.

The morning is too short.  I'm thinking -- maybe I could entice Snowdrop to go with me after school to the mall? How's that for an odd idea!


We go. She's excited! And in a way, so am I. The skies are gray, there's occasional drizzle. At the mall, she can...

... pretend to be a penguin!






...Pull the stroller into the toy store!






At midday, the mall is actually rather empty and not unpleasant for an energetic child who hadn't enough outdoor time today.






There is a play area -- she rides a pig!






... She rides a train!






True, when I steer her toward Pottery Barn, where I look for decent coasters, she finds her way to the exit quickly enough.






But overall, shockingly, I find this sidestep into commerce a success.

As a reward, we go to La Baguette -- a bakery cafe just across the street from the mall.

Snowdrop loves, truly loves the sprinkling of Eiffel Towers throughout the store! Like Waldo, only better.






Croissant! Oh, beloved croissant!






And now we're home and ahah joins us and we have a wonderful set of minutes at play.







In the evening, Snowdrop studies a book...






... and then I notice that she is contorting her body this way and that. Are you doing yoga? -- I ask her.






It appears that this is so.

Go on, Snowdrop!






I'll leave you with that: a joyous Snowdrop, doing (perhaps?) sun salutations. No better way to end a day, is there...

Wednesday in photos

Gray skies, packed hours, late everything.

Well, breakfast is on time.






Playful Snowdrop, happy girl, wanting a partner in crime from the minute we leave school. Or even before we leave.






I take her to the library. It's been a long time since we've been here! I love the books, she loves everything.






Everything.






Everything.






(Using every last muscle to pull over a crate...)






(A library version of a holiday tree. She likes it!)






At the farmette now: cheepers, we don't have any bread for you right now!  -- a line we deliver again and again as they run out to greet us.






At the farmhouse, playing ball with ahah. She is good!






And always there must be time for towers and for arranging all the Duplo children so that they too can eat baguettes and share water.






I no longer notice the gray skies. Nor the drizzle nor the rush of time. Snowdrop plays, the tea kettle whistles, the day sings.

november 29th? really?

Today, the march toward winter took a pause. I know we really did not go beyond 50F (10C), but with a steady outpouring of sunshine, it felt far warmer. So much so, that when Snowdrop came to the farmette, she spent a good many minutes like this:






And with the cheepers, like this:











Earlier, Ed and I eat breakfast in a bath of sunshine.






On a day like this, you can only feel grateful. (If you're an Ed, you could feel grateful for all that's not wrong with the world... Too, you can feel grateful that you have a buddy who will help you arrange little characters on the Duplo tractor...






... and who will reward you with a big grin when a piece of puzzle falls into place.)






Before I even bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse from school, I ask her if she wants to take a walk to the playground. It's a bit of a stroll and I do know she is tired after a morning of play, but she is enthusiastic...






... and I am feeling strong -- strong enough to carry her when inevitably, she'll stretch her arms and say -- I need help.

We pause at the coffee shop for old times sake (and to fortify her with a piece of croissant). Oh, but her eyes stray...






What's she looking at? Well this:






The whole time.






We walk to the playground then and she is her old jubilant self on the swing...






... and she climbs up the play structure, and the life guard chair, all that. But really, what she most loves about the playground is the sand, the rocks, perhaps the view onto the lesser lake.






At home,  she naps, I enjoy the play of sunshine on my coffee cup...






Of course, all that sunshine recedes rather early. But how pretty it looks, even as the day seems to rush toward dusk (and the twinkling lights twinkle to high heaven out on the porch)...






Outside, it's dark. Inside, we bake cookies.






And then some of us dance in celebration of the fact that the cookies are ready!






A silly dance perhaps. But isn't it grand to have elements of silliness in one's day?


It's time to take Snowdrop home. On my way to the car with her, we sidetrack and watch ahah put the chickens away. They're a bit wild tonight and Snowdrop is taken aback by their fierce flapping and squawking. It's just the way they are, Snowdrop --- I tell her. It's just the way they are.