a Saturday like no other

I'm sure we're toppling records: the sun is strong, the air is still and so very warm! It's 62F (17C) right now and I honestly contemplate joining Ed in shedding pants in favor of shorts. It would have been a February 18th photo of the two of us for the ages.

But hey, maybe we can simply take pleasure in having a day that itself is surely for the ages? It's so grand to look out and think spring thoughts and to imagine it all to be just before you!

The day is made special, too, of course, because of Snowdrop's weekend visit. Oh, these are going to be familiar vignettes because they tell a story already documented here during previous visits.

She likes to help with the pancake preparation...






She loves to eat breakfast with the two of us...






And she loves that I bought her her very own honey bear.











It is also no surprise that I want Snowdrop to spend lots of time outside. That's a bit of a challenge. She is supremely focused on indoor play.

Perhaps she's apprehensive about the rumbling machine outside. We watch Ed through the window as he moves the monster back and forth over the flower bed. In the end, the desire to do stuff with him trumps and she finds her jacket and heads out.






We join Ed on the front flower bed. I show her the stubs of spent flowers and point to tags that often have a wee picture of the flower that will be growing there again. She loves these identifiers and would very much like to take them all back with her!






Oh, but Snowdrop, that's last year's stuff! (A valiant attempt to distract her from that project.) Look at all the new space we're creating for this year's plantings!





I'd like to believe she's impressed.


So yes, she does enjoy our outdoor moments, but the smile is never more heartfelt than when we come back inside and eat play foods that she dishes out for us.






Still, in the afternoon, I try to coax her out again.

No, gagie. I want to play in the farmhouse.

But but but little one, there's this!






I sweeten the deal: do you want to go to the sheep shed to visit ahah (who is spending a few hours working on a new and improved hatch release for the chicken coop)?
Yes!

She has lovely minutes in his big black chair (purchased a long time ago to entice me to spend more time visiting him) studying a listing of invasive species that are endangering Wisconsin flora...






... then, predictably, she lures us both to his kitchenette -- which boasts nothing much these days, but does offer a spectacular view of the fields to the north of us.






On our way back to the farmhouse, we have a spirited visit with the cheepers. You perhaps may recall that Snowdrop has very real conversations with them. She's having one in the photo below.






And there is one new game we like to play these days. It's "can you find the statues that ahah's mom made?" The bronze figurines are scattered throughout the yard. Last I counted there were nine and she knows them all. But counting them off is great fun and giving them names, too, adds to the pleasure of searching them out.






I'll end the outdoor adventure portion of this day with one remarkable find. I think Scotch, our brown hen, is equally astonished. Crocus leaves! Can you see them?






Evening. Pizza making! Now if that isn't a reliable farmhouse thing! (She's sampling the tomato sauce here.)






(Always so happy to get her share. Always mushrooms and garlic. Always with lots of cheese.)






We watch a little TV -- always a nature show. This one about the exquisite smartness of cows, monkeys, cormorants...





But perhaps this weekend must be recognized for Snowdrop's incredible love of stories. She tells them to her various stuffies, or her duplo characters. But she also loves to listen. Read her a good tale and she will love you for life. We must have gone through a hundred reading sessions today.

Night time. Ed asks -- you exhausted?
Sure, but in such a good way.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.

why does this Friday seem like something other than a regular old Friday?

Some days are so calm and ordinary that you feel like you're merely floating through each hour, exerting no effort, enjoying the gentle breeze that pushes you along.

This is not one of those days. We are moving along alright, just a bit tumultuously! Oh, not where one side is shouting some obscenity and the other is toppling into murky waters and still others are wiping sweat (rightly so) off their collective brow.  Ours is a controlled and not unpleasant chaos. Most assuredly though, this is not a conventional Friday.

Perhaps I ought to put out the two overarching themes of my forthcoming weekend -- each crucial in its own way: first of all, we have record breaking weather here, in south central Wisconsin: with a high of 58F today (14.5C), it feels more like May than the middle of February. So sunny! So fantastic! So weird!

Secondly, for a number of reasons, Snowdrop is spending the weekend with us at the farmhouse. And so quite obviously, everything is going to be a bit topsy turvy, as she will be setting my agenda for the next few days.

Oh, but these are just the basic parameters. There is so much more before us!

But breakfast is deceptively calm. A bit rushed, as Ed has his tech meetings and I have my weekly grocery shopping to attend to, but nevertheless calm.





And then he is off and I am off, but here come the twists and turns. First, after many hesitations, negotiations, considerations, we have decided to rent that skid steer loader (basically a machine that you use for digging and hauling), crossing our fingers that Ed can haul that thing home from the bobcat rental place behind his truck. If he never arrives, I'll know that he got stuck somewhere and can't get home.

And here's another twist: when I pick up Snowdrop at school, I see that she is diaper-free and sitting on the potty. Well now, isn't it lucky that we have before us a warm weekend!

It's as if we were to throw everything into a caldron for the next few days, without any clue as to what might emerge at the end of it all.


I cannot resist taking Snowdrop on a short walk after school. So sunny! So very pleasant! (And yes, there is another unusual element -- the kids had pajama day at school and so she is, in fact in her piggy and elephant pj's.)

She begs for a snack and so we pause briefly (believe me, very briefly) at the coffee shop and since it is really so pleasant outside, we take our snack out to the patio. But Snowdrop is really eager to get up and get going. The playground is right there, within eyesight...






That's fine. We can check it out.

It's not entirely operational. Puddles, melting ice -- the tell tale signs of February are still there. Still, she loves climbing the life guard tower...






... a place that offers a fine view onto the melting lesser lake.






A few minutes on the swing...






And then we stroll our way back to the car and come home to the farmette.


A contemplative pose...






A few pieces of fruit...






A playful Snowdrop...






And she naps and Ed comes home tugging that machine with him and it looks like the day will move along smoothly, no?

Not entirely.

The machine makes deep tracks in the muddy soil (much to Ed's dismay).






The trips back and forth, from pile to flower bed are tediously long...






Ed wonders if he should give up and wait until we get a solid frost again that would harden up the soil. Surely we'll have another deep freeze this winter?

("What is ahah doing out there??")






Evening. All is calm again. Snowdrop has us drawing together for long stretches of time...






Therapeutic, no?

Yes, the girl is here and happy and the sun shone brightly on us all!






Perhaps the pace here at the farmette was a bit robust on this day. That's okay. Tomorrow will surely be staid.

Maybe.

Perhaps not.

Fine: most likely it will offer its own great surprises.

We're looking forward to it.

Thursday

Oh, the irony of it all! Three days ago, Ed and I admired the growing mountain of wood chips north of our property line, thinking how wonderful it would be to make use of them. We inquired. We got the go ahead.

Two days ago, after having many truckloads dumped and spread directly on a farmette field (how neat is that!), we realized that we had no grand plan for that field. So now what?

One day ago we investigated renting a skid steer loader to dig into that still growing mountain of city chips, so that we could haul load after load to our own ever-expanding flower beds.

And today, we first patted ourselves on the back for having the truck driver dump the next four truck loads of chips right on our property, then groaned again as we realized that we could not easily bring a skid steer loader over here and therefore, in addition to having a field of chips, we now also have a mountain of chips, with nothing more than a wobbly cart to help us distribute them for future projects. All this to be figured out... tomorrow.

Our week has been chock full of chip issues.

But breakfast is lovely anyway. Just a touch of sunshine. Enough to put us in the sun room.







And here is a most pleasant surprise: Butter, our white hen has been finally, in the last month, resumed laying. One out of four hens giving us eggs -- a pretty miserable haul.  But today, Henny, who had been eggless for two seasons now, popped one out for us  for us! (Hers can easily be identified -- they're always green).





So, two of our four girls are now giving eggs! (Ed, the realist, reminds me that it could all stop tomorrow, so I shouldn't feel too chipper about any of it.)


I put aside thoughts of chips and cheepers and pick up Snowdrop at school as usual. (Where did you get those lovely sneakers, Snowdrop? I got them at a shoe store! I can almost detect an eye roll. I mean, where else, gaga?)






Mommy's at home during some of the time we are there...






Yes, Snowdrop's energy level is picking up again...






Though quiet play is still her choice for this afternoon.






Later, much later...  Wondering. Why it is that this is that and that is something else...






I have a secret, she tells us, pointing to her ear.

Who told her one? Will she share it?






No, she settles into reading instead. A dog party! How well I remember reading this same book to her mommy, who once thought the idea of a dog party was beyond the beyond.






I leave them then and drive out to Thai Noodles, where I pick up our favorite dishes. From there, I drive home, bedazzled yet again by one beautiful sunset.

Wednesday

If yesterday was effervescent, today was tame.

Partly sunny, a bit cooler (just at freezing) and, too, with a morning phone message that lets us know that Snowdrop is still not well and so there will be no school for her today.

Ed and I have a lovely breakfast...






And then I go over to Snowdrop's home. She is not completely without oomph, but she definitely is moving at a slower pace. We do a lot of quiet things. Blocks, games, books...






With a lot of restful listening to children's music.

She does feel compelled to feed her babies (and as is her habit here, dresses up to do it)...






... but rather than prancing and dancing with them, she is more keen on resting.






There must be, in life, a balance: days that go this way, days that go another way. But if you can look back on a day and recall handfuls of details that make you smile, then I'm okay with the vicissitudes.

(Goldie: "but what, if like me, you're neither all black or all white?")






And if, moreover, we truly are advancing on spring, that's reason to be downright joyful. And I am. Truly I am. Just in a more quiet way today.

(Sunset from the farmhouse bedroom window.)

pink and red and blue all over

Last year, it snowed on Valentine's Day. I have pictures of a blanketed farmette. Winter seemed stubbornly entrenched.

Today could not be more different. Sunshine and a relative warmth. You wake up thinking spring thoughts.

Happy Valentine's Day indeed!

Breakfast bathed in sunlight!






And a morning spent outside. We survey our newly chipped field out back, still a bit clueless as to what should become of it.





How about planting blueberries? Snowdrop said she'd like to grow more blueberries.
What, a whole field of blueberries? So that we're swamped with them for a few weeks? That is if we even succeed in keeping the soil right and the deer at bay...
How about a few blueberries, a few flowers and then some white pines?

It goes on like this. It will go on like this. We cannot come up with a perfect plan.

And so we concentrate on the front yard today. We dump some chips to expand the road-facing flower bed. And then I do some pruning, grumbling the whole while that our trees need serious pruning -- something that I bring up each year, even as Ed dismisses it as totally unnecessary.


At around noon, I pick up a happy Snowdrop.






I know what she would love most right now and I'm quite willing to indulge her -- it's Valentine's Day, no? Stroller time!

We go for a longer walk -- all the way to the more distant coffee shop -- a place she and I hadn't been to since the warmer days of fall.

She needs no reminder about where to find the high chair.






("Can I have a banana?")






Today (well, every day...) I would give you the world, little one!

When I tell her there's a small gift waiting for her at the farmhouse, she is excited. ("I am excited" is definitely in her vocabulary!)

It's not much, really. A few books and a few stuffies that depict the characters from those books (we're on a Piggie and Gerald the Elephant roll and, too, "digesting" the pigeon books by the same author). But Snowdrop has always appreciated each gift handed to her, big or small, and she spends a lovely afternoon introducing her new pals to her world of toys.






("I want to dance with piggie!")






("One more dance!")






There is a tiny bit of a downside to the day: nearly half of Snowdrop's class is out with a virus and toward evening, the little one succumbs to it. Oh, she is sweet as can be, but most of the remaining time at the farmhouse is spent in lap formation.







Sunset. I can't really see it from the farmhouse -- too many trees stand in the way. But if I look out on the fields to the east, the red glow is there.






A fitting color combination. Happy Valentine's Day. With love.