family Sunday

A stunning day! Cold, yes, very cold. But let's focus on the beauty of this morning: golden sunshine on the tiny apples against a backdrop of light snow. Sublime!






Both young families come to the farmhouse for brunch. Let's focus first on the girl who is the guest of honor, Primrose, if only because she is the one who comes here only now and then (as opposed to, say, every day!).






(And while we're focusing on Primrose, the other little girl -- Snowdrop -- steals a slice of baguette and touches the apple cake,  announcing to all that she is super hungry.)






My family is growing. I now have two cast iron pans so that I can make two (mushroom and spinach) frittatas.






Ready to eat!






Oh happy girl! Happy us, too!






Hey, Primrose can handle a high chair now!






We have a bit of a split then. Dad leaves with Primrose, mom lingers a few hours more. Not that she is without babies to hold!






Or little girls who adore her to pieces...






In the end, she leaves too and we are again a group of six. I cook dinner, just like most every Sunday. The lights twinkle, the kitchen smells are so good, so comforting.






(An after dinner treat: Snowdrop is with her most favorite ice cream sandwich, Sparrow, wishing he was old enough to try one...)






The weekend comes to an end. Dishes are drying on the rack, leftovers are tucked into tupperware containers for tomorrow's lunches and dinners. Ed and I are on the couch once more, reflecting. He talks about how people have a hard time appreciating the remarkable things in life that are before them: an orange on the table on a cold November day. Warm water coming out of your faucet. Entertainment at the flick of a remote switch, a clean dish, a bowl of spaghetti. So easy to take these for granted! So easy!  On this week of Thanksgiving, I'm drawn to thinking about all of them: the million and one gadgets, devices, that many talented people worked hard to perfect so that your life and my life could be made easier. The cars that bring my beloved young family here, the food stuffs we love to share, the little hands that reach for baguettes, rolly polly balls, and the moments of utter peace on the couch.

Heaven.

mini Thanksgiving weekend

My younger daughter and her family are heading out to Minneapolis for Thanksgiving and so we wont be seeing them this coming Thursday. But what's in a date? Today they're coming up to Madison and stopping here for the night. Call it then a mini Thanksgiving, or a pre-Thanksgiving for us all! (We'll do the real deal in a smaller configuration.)

And look at what we have outside!





It's not deep, but nor is it a fleeting event. We continue to have temperatures that are well below normal.

Breakfast in the front room. No sun today, but we brighten up the place with flowers.






(And I brightened up the pic's exposure a tad to show off how pretty the cheepers are against a cover of white stuff. Not that they like it! Here, Java is leading the two young girls to the garage. I don't think they'd ever touched snow before!)





I spend the morning housecleaning and baking. The place is filled now with the smell of apples and cinnamon.





And then I hurry to meet the younger family at my mom's place.

(Primrose and her great grandmother)


 



From there, it's a hop and a skip to my older girl's home. Welcome, little Primrose! Your cousins, aunt and uncle are sure happy to have you here! (As for grandma? Oh, don't even ask!)






(The three cousins)






A band is formed. Everyone has an instrument to play!






And soon enough it is evening. We eat dinner at the ever informal ever tasty Longtable. Primrose is delighted by the lights, the TV screens, the noise and clamor of our family enjoying our night out together.






Sparrow is equally enthralled.






Happy, happy times around a table. All of us. Feeling grateful to the core.






Late. It's late now. Babies need to be fed (so many willing hands!)...






One last dance needs to be performed, to the tune of jingle bells...






One last story told, one last joke, one last song.


I come back to the farmhouse. The snow is cruncy beneath my feet. It adds an aura of stillness and calm.

Hello, farmhouse, hello you, inside.

Friday

We start the second half of November with gray skies, somewhat warmer temperatures, a closed Snowdrop school (conferences!), and a rushed morning.

Ed is off to his techie meetings and I am off to shop for the weekend and to pre-shop for Thanksgiving. So breakfast is rather hurried.






For me, food purchasing is a real dance now. I have a full family Thanksgiving-ish brunch this Sunday, so foods are needed for that. Too, there are the regular weekly items and finally, I want to stock up on some basics for the Thursday Thanksgiving meals (that's right, there are many meals on that day!). It'll make for a lighter shopping trip next week. I'd made my lists. I start in on them.

And immediately after, I go to pick up Snowdrop -- not at school, but at her house, where a sitter has been with her during the morning hours. I wave hello and good-bye to Sparrow and bring the girl back to the farmhouse. I ask her what she'd like to do today. She tells me she is really missing quiet time: "books, couch and quiet -- I would like that best." (Could it be that her little brother was less than quiet this morning?)

This, of course, sounds pretty heavenly to me and we settle in on the couch. I read all twelve chapters of a new book and nearly finish a second one, all in the course of the afternoon.






In between, she draws. "Let's pretend we're at a scientists' school" she tells me. I'm agreeable.






She moves to her "office space," creating scraps of art that then form the heart of her stories.






Watching her work here is... well, inspiring.






A story is launched and I listen, but only a little. I can tell when her stories are public and when they're more private. This one is more for her own benefit.






It is a longer set of hours than we usually have together, but I have fewer photos to show for it. Something about the quiet nature of the day made me move more slowly with the camera. I suppose I'm getting ready for the crazy busy days ahead. Today was the calm before the grand storm of family and food.

Thursday

My mom turns 95 today. She isn't really keen on celebrations and so you wont see party photos, but still, the day surely belongs to her!

It's a gorgeous November morning. Sunny, a tad warmer. You could not ask for more in late fall.






Ed and I eat breakfast in the front room. So full of sunshine now! South facing rooms give the farmhouse its winter light.






And then I go to my mom's, with foods she may enjoy and we spend a quiet time catching up.






As I drive home afterwards, I swing by the lesser lake. It's hard to believe that it is ice covered now. I cannot ever remember such an early freeze in all the years (decades!) I have lived here.






In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop. I half hope that she'd like an outside romp -- after all, it's 42F (just about 5C) -- practically a heat wave!  But no, she is ready to snuggle in the farmhouse over a book, and then take on the world of make believe.






She likes it when I jump in, introducing troublesome characters, disruptors who mess with her story line.






Today I am the angry neighbor who wants to put a stop to her loud duck raising operation.






Eventually, the problem is solved. Negotiations lead to a resolution.






The world is at peace again.






And still the stories continue. Only the arrival of parents brings an end to the sagas. For today.


We're moving into the second half of November. This is when "holiday awareness" takes hold. I think about food. I think about family. I think about family and food and what should come when and with whom. The pace at the farmhouse picks up. Outside, the farmette gardens rest.

Wednesday

Morning cold. Frost on the window, furnace working for longer spells now, as if it were February instead of mid November.






But once again the sun is out and though the ground is getting that crunchy firm feel to it, I don't really mind. The farmette is bright and beautiful. Even now, in a month that typically doesn't really present itself well.

Sparrow comes for a morning of play here. He is bundled of course and it strikes me that it would be fitting to sit him down next to a polar bear.







Okay okay okay, not for long. It's pleasantly warm in the farmhouse.

Oops! Without that jacket to stiffen him up, he loses his balance a bit...






Now here are strong arms to keep him upright! Breakfast. In the front room.






It stays cold in the morning and it stays cold in the afternoon when I pick up Snowdrop. The little girl initially doesn't notice, doesn't care. She made a kite. She wants to see it soar in some form of a mini flight.






At the farmette, she runs like the dickens down the path to the barn. The cheepers are convinced she's there to get them food. They fly to be first in line.






This is when she gets cold. Me, I had beat her to it a long time ago.

We retreat to the farmhouse.

("Playing" Jingle Bells...)






It's storybook ballet day and hard as it is to get her to stop her game, dance class pulls her like a magnet. We arrive only 45 seconds late!






Today's story is about Thanksgiving. The kids are good Pilgrims who discover a new settlement in America, sow seeds on it and have themselves a first feast. True, much is left out in the retelling of it and what she hears, does leave Snowdrop puzzled (I see her hand shoot up to inquire about how it is that they discovered a new colony in America), but in the end she is one happy little Pilgrim, with a tutu underneath her starched white apron.


 








Evening. I cook up a pot of soup that Ed and I will dip into for the next few days. The cheepers sleep, the lights on the porch look twice as bright on this crisp cold night. Winter came early this year. That's okay: so long as it leaves early too and has plenty of sunshine sprinkled throughout.

Tuesday

I believe the high today was 26F (-3.5C). We have a cold blast that refuses to go away.

On the upside -- oh that winter sunshine! It makes Arctic air feel (almost) pleasant!






It's been a while since Ed and I have had a breakfast together, just the two of us. I mean, silly on the one hand, but still, it is so calm and cool to start the day this way again...






I work inside this morning. A free handful of hours allowed me to catch up. Bookkeeping, holiday planning, more bookkeeping after all that holiday planning -- so much to do!

And then there was the ever clever little girl -- coming to the farmhouse for her after-school time here. (She is so happy to see a new book on the table next to the couch.)






Her stories today float around the holidays. Santa Clause figures heavily in them, which is quite funny since Mr. Claus has been only marginally noted in her family's holiday lexicon. She is determined to meet him on Christmas Eve night. While her parents are sleeping.






She jumps into her other favorite games too. Office, for example. I'm being told to not come in. She is working.






And then it's time for me to take her home. Run, Snowdrop! It's so cold!






I dont have good music for her in the car, but we make up for it by having good conversation.
Gaga  -- she asks -- is this car a manual transmission?
I nearly stop solid on the freeway. Say what?
Is it manual transmission?
Well yes, it is... you see, I learned to drive in Poland, where all cars have manual transmission. You know what that means? I have to use my hand to adjust the motor when I go fast or when I slow down. I mean, how else do you talk about manual transmission to a three year old. But she is one step ahead: like when you switch to third gear, right?

Oh my....


Snowdrop's mom and I try to set aside an hour each week to talk, without child, without distraction. The place we go to is celebrating its one year anniversary:  free champagne! It's here that we give ourselves the time to meander and think. To consider all that is before us.






It's an hour that is always very well spent.

Tomorrow, they say we will cross back to the above freezing range. Suddenly, 40F (4.5C) will seem very very warm again!