We are not done with splendid Fall weather yet, but today there definitely is a pause: the day feels gray and cold, even though the trees are not yet bare and the temperatures are mild compared with what's ahead.
We eat breakfast in the sunless sunroom.
As the morning progresses, the skies become even more gray. It's the type of weather where you do not want to leave the house. Cozy is good!
Still, after days of hiking in Sorede, I'm wired to keep moving. I suggest a short hike.
The Ice Age train? -- Ed asks.
Too far! You see, in Sorede, you can just step outside and get moving. No time involved in getting to your hike!
Right, and only twenty hours of flights, trains and automobiles to get there from here to begin your hike.
Fine, let's focus on the beauty of our own landscape. And it is beautiful.
We settle for a walk that is really close by -- some five minutes from the farmette.
It puts us momentarily in the middle of a frisbee golf course. Do you know what that is? Instead of hitting golf balls, you throw a frisbee.
Maybe we should pick up a couple of frisbees and give it a try?
I'm too old to learn a new sport!
He ignores my protest and we drive over to the big box store to pick up some plastic disks. Let's get the brightest ones for when we shoot them into the prairie. Easier to find. I pick pink, he grabs an orange one. But learning to play is a project for another day. For now, we drive home. Yes, it's starting to look like winter browns are taking hold. But the cranes are still here! We speculate how long it takes them to fly to Florida.
At the farmette, we're far from all brown yet. Look what's blooming still! A day lily...
The surprising iris!
Fall is a tricky season: it hovers between summer and winter, never committing to either.
Afternoon: it's time for me to pick up Snowdrop at school.
Oh, that dear girl! Sweater is wet, socks are off, Castelnou flowers are on her head! Kids are sleeping, she is not.
Many hugs later, we're off for our neighborhood walk!
It's supposed to rain. I tell her we can play in the park until the first drops come down and then we'll have to run like crazy for the car. She snuggles into a jacket. It's windy out there!
The playground is where she unwinds. On the swing, on the climbing structure, in the sand -- no matter. She releases and exhales here.
And the rains hang back. I am grateful for her sake.
After the playground comes another very important half hour where we play in the car. It is like a magic bubble for her: this is where she creates her best fantasies and tells her finest stories!
At the farmette again, she serves her babies, Ed and me tea. With macarons.
She delights at correcting Ed's pronunciation of "macarons." (He doesn't roll the "r" correctly.) When he comes close to getting it -- she tells him "good job!"
The farmette will never be without color so long as this little one comes here and hands us toy macarons. The rains come down hard. We hardly give them a second thought.
We eat breakfast in the sunless sunroom.
As the morning progresses, the skies become even more gray. It's the type of weather where you do not want to leave the house. Cozy is good!
Still, after days of hiking in Sorede, I'm wired to keep moving. I suggest a short hike.
The Ice Age train? -- Ed asks.
Too far! You see, in Sorede, you can just step outside and get moving. No time involved in getting to your hike!
Right, and only twenty hours of flights, trains and automobiles to get there from here to begin your hike.
Fine, let's focus on the beauty of our own landscape. And it is beautiful.
We settle for a walk that is really close by -- some five minutes from the farmette.
It puts us momentarily in the middle of a frisbee golf course. Do you know what that is? Instead of hitting golf balls, you throw a frisbee.
Maybe we should pick up a couple of frisbees and give it a try?
I'm too old to learn a new sport!
He ignores my protest and we drive over to the big box store to pick up some plastic disks. Let's get the brightest ones for when we shoot them into the prairie. Easier to find. I pick pink, he grabs an orange one. But learning to play is a project for another day. For now, we drive home. Yes, it's starting to look like winter browns are taking hold. But the cranes are still here! We speculate how long it takes them to fly to Florida.
At the farmette, we're far from all brown yet. Look what's blooming still! A day lily...
The surprising iris!
Fall is a tricky season: it hovers between summer and winter, never committing to either.
Afternoon: it's time for me to pick up Snowdrop at school.
Oh, that dear girl! Sweater is wet, socks are off, Castelnou flowers are on her head! Kids are sleeping, she is not.
Many hugs later, we're off for our neighborhood walk!
It's supposed to rain. I tell her we can play in the park until the first drops come down and then we'll have to run like crazy for the car. She snuggles into a jacket. It's windy out there!
The playground is where she unwinds. On the swing, on the climbing structure, in the sand -- no matter. She releases and exhales here.
And the rains hang back. I am grateful for her sake.
After the playground comes another very important half hour where we play in the car. It is like a magic bubble for her: this is where she creates her best fantasies and tells her finest stories!
At the farmette again, she serves her babies, Ed and me tea. With macarons.
She delights at correcting Ed's pronunciation of "macarons." (He doesn't roll the "r" correctly.) When he comes close to getting it -- she tells him "good job!"
The farmette will never be without color so long as this little one comes here and hands us toy macarons. The rains come down hard. We hardly give them a second thought.
