a peaceful wild

It's not your typical Sunday. First of all, we're just a handful of days before Christmas and for me, that's a big deal, especially since nothing about the week ahead is going to be normal. So a double whammy of  crazy. Then, too, there is still a wintry dusting of snow on the ground...

 

But it wont last. We're told that Wednesday will set records in terms of warmth. At the same time, a plunge into Arctic territory will follow, so that by next weekend we'll be colder than cold. Wild weather, though surely of a peaceful kind, for which we are grateful.

Breakfast? That's sweet. 

And then the kids come. They're not here for dinner today and so they asked for a farmhouse play date during the day. Of course! 

They had just run an errand with mom to a bakery and each was allowed to bring over a treat. Sparrow picked a cupcake...

Snowdrop chose the baguette. 

There was a mix of play and books and fruits and the usual preferred pasta lunches. A happy day, with lots of imaginative story telling. At times quiet...

At times a bit on the wild side.

(timed release)

They leave in the afternoon. The house grows still. 

Maybe too still. Ed and I talk each other into a walk in our local park. On the way, we pass a field of sandhill cranes. You can't easily snap a good photo -- their pale colors blend with those of the harvested cornfield. Still, they are beautiful to behold and we pause to take a good look.

At home again I automatically light my candle. It's hard to think of a winter evening without it. Tonight I reach for Havikko Home, described here in this way: it’s a bold blend of lingonberries and birch, with notes of frozen lingonberries, balsam fir, cinnamon, clove, cedarwood, and white birch.  The name "Haavikko Home" was inspired by Teresa's Finnish grandmother's last name. (Made in Wisconsin!)

Talk about evocative! I'm not sure what frozen lingonberries smell like, but the effect is one of winter baking in a cabin up north. Wild woods, peaceful cabin, with, what the heck -- a pot full of bubbling ligonberries being transformed into jam. 

Winter never felt so cozy, or smelled this good!

Saturday

My grandkids are getting to an age where they can hold me accountable for things I said. For example, in our ongoing discussion about Santa, Snowdrop, who is very close to turning seven, interrupted my soliloquy about hearing mysterious bells ring in the distance late on Christmas Eve and said -- gaga, you already told me you used to fool your girls about Santa being nearby with a set of bells that you yourself would jingle! So I did. But how is it that I am now reminded of what I did with "my girls" by my own granddaughter? 

Being held to one's words can be a problem. After all, your attitude might change and new information may have you think twice about promises once made. In the case of Santa, there are shifting sands, too, as kids age and your conversations become more penetrating. And it's not only about Santa. The pandemic keeps reconfiguring our parameters of what is safe. Yet people expect consistency. I know I promised travel with Snowdrop. Too, she was told forever and ever that once vaccinated, she would be safe. Yet here she is, still asked to avoid crowded indoor spaces, still needing that mask, because there are the younger kids and the community spread and the new variant and so on and so on. 

You hope kids realize that you are not omnipotent and that promises are best guesses and they're not without merit -- they are twinkling stars that keep us feeling the enchantment of life, even as we can't really tell if they will twinkle for us every single day in exactly the same way. Some will, some wont and that's fine too. An adventurous life is one where we can't always predict the outcome, but we know for sure that there will be stories to tell of the daring deeds and faced obstacles and yes, eventually those stars we encountered along the way.

There was a lot of rain last night and eventually that rain turned to snow. Not much snow for us here, in south central Wisconsin, but enough to make you want to go out and touch it. Delicately, because, well, it's just a thin layer that's bound to melt, if not today, then in the days ahead.

(cat, hiding)

Snowdrop is left here right after her early morning activity. (Her brother is at a birthday event, so she comes alone). She shows up without a jacket so I assume she wants to hurry inside.

And she does -- just to put on some farmhouse mittens, caps, pullover, gloves. There's always warm stuff she can use here.

Then out she goes again. Even this tiny bit of snow makes her giddy!

But I remind her that she insisted we bake muffins together and I held off eating breakfast until we had some fresh from the oven, and eventually she agreed to turn her back to outdoor play. I was relieved. Neither of us were properly dressed for freezing temps.

Indoors, we baked.

And ate.

And yes, it is the perfect combination -- a romp in the cold crisp air, and a session of baking in a very warm kitchen.

Some time in the afternoon, after we'd gone through too many books to count and she had played out all her own stories in the playroom I take her home. And now, back at the farmhouse, I watch the light change all around me. Outside, and inside as well.

 

My candle -- this one from the Keap people, ever so gently bringing the whiff of Northlands into the house -- is like light therapy only without the ugly white box shining at you. Just a flicker is enough. Funny how oftentimes just a little something goes a long way.

all is calm

So far, no great turmoil taking place here at the farmette. All is quiet. Sort of. When Ed's not around I play music. But gently. And yes, Snowdrop is here this afternoon, but she has an unusually delicate voice. In fact, she told me the other day that she is the only one in her class who has NOT received the reprimand to please read more quietly when you are reading to yourself. She says no one can hear her. It's funny, she tells me -- I am the biggest chatterbox in class, but I never get caught at it because my voice is so quiet.

I agree with that! (Most of the time.) When I drive her to the farmette after school, I strain to hear what she is telling me. And the worst is if she answers with an uh-huh or an uh-uh. One is a yes, the other a no. Indistinguishable coming from the back seat. 

The day allowed me to catch up with wrapping and writing. Not exactly serious writing, but card messaging for the holidays. Somehow I cannot get it into my head that a printed card is good to go. I feel I must insert a handwritten note. A weird anachronism from my childhood when I saw piles of printed cards come in to my parents' home (my father was a diplomat, which is by definition a magnet for holiday greeting cards) -- ones sent by office staff, never touched by the senders themselves. These days, printed cards are special and personal and have a lot of the sender in them and I deeply appreciate, indeed love each one that comes my way. Still, when it comes time for me to send something out -- the pen is in my hand and I pause to scribble something to the recipient.

I'm done, except for one person whom, well, I have to ask: Jennie -- are the rumors true?? Did you really pack your bags and move from California to Paris??? Let me know!!

Photos from today are all from the afternoon. Despite the alleged calm, there was a lot of confusion at breakfast as Ed was taking care of several things at the same time -- never a good thing for him! Fascinated, I watched, without camera in hand. But soon after, peace prevailed.

So, Snowdrop pics! If all goes well, this would be my last school pick up for a while, so enjoy this bundled up first grader!

 

And now for some playful moments, here...

(Hey, that cookie is definitely mine!)

... and back at her house, with her brothers:

While here, at the farmhouse, all is very very calm.

Oh yeah...

Wait, Dance! Leave that tree alone!  Shush....

Thursday

Tricky scheduling situations kept me glued to the computer all morning long. We did have a lovely breakfast...

And I had the treat of good music in the background while doing my kitchen routines.

This is totally thanks to Ed and my younger son-in-law. Ed helped me sell of a bunch of stuff on Craigslist this week, netting me a little pocket money. With it, I bought my bluetooth "sound system" (portable and beautiful, displayed above). It's amazing how prices have come down and quality has gone up with these small devices. I knew I needed one when the Chicago young family last visited and my son-in-law wanted to stream some good music for us (he picks such excellent stuff). Looking around at what is available here at the farmhouse, he let out a light smile and said -- you do have the dated devices! I mean, that was being kind. I actually had no devices. We had to listen directly from his phone. But I vowed to improve things here a bit, and clearing spaces around the house put Ed in such a good mood that he even helped me move forward with this new, wee but powerful addition to our home.

In the afternoon I scooted out to pick up Snowdrop. I hadn't had time for lunch so I grabbed a coffee and cookie while she was here. Chocolate covered covered gingerbread? No way is she going to let me eat that alone!

(Reading through some new books...)

We are all circling around bugs and viruses that are in the air and I dare say she felt a little run down, but she rallied and it was a lovely afternoon.

(Helping Ed fix a computer problem for my mom...)

And in the evening? Happy half b'day, little Sparrow! You are officially 3.5 years old today!

 

 

Sandpiper, on the other hand, tries hard to impress with a pull on the old sock...

I mean, it's a real skill! And back at home, Dance just keeps hitting on that girl-with-a-goat ornament again and again and again.

 

 

cold, continued

Again we stayed well below freezing today. Nevertheless, I felt toasty warm all day long. First of all, Ed and I accomplished a lot in terms of emptying some spaces in the farmhouse -- so much so that he told me, in an effort to show his appreciation for my efforts, to please put out the jigsaw puzzle again, even if it is a bit of clutter. I managed to slide in a comment about how much my efforts to finish the sky had been disrupted and thus I haven't the motivation to work on it again, but if I wanted to punch, it was a futile effort -- we were both in such good moods that any attempted sarcasm was bound to fail.

The morning walk to feed these guys.

Breakfast.

 

 

 

The other reason for feeling warm was that we have now allowed our blood to adjust to winter. We took a walk by lakes that were freezing over rapidly...

... and we were okay with the frosty air and cold wind. Indeed, I considered it to be a comfortably pleasant excursion. Hardly the bone chilling outing that would have made me shiver and shudder just a few weeks back.

Of course, this holiday/winter ritual (see below) also contributed to inner warmth. Try it! A warm beverage and a cookie, in front of your tree, if you have a tree. Heaven. Really, heaven.

Wait, who is that playing with the ornaments?! Dance! No! (Do cats listen to commands? They do not.)

cold

I think we hit single digits last night. By the time I began work on breakfast, the thermometer registered a meager 12f (-11c). 

There is a dusting of snow, which is like you licking the spoon from the mixing bowl even as the frosted cake is hidden for another time or another person. Oh, how we would all love some real snow right now! I say this having just sold my cross country skis and boots on Craigslist and unpacked a new pair of both, made necessary by the fact that I outgrew my ski boots (did you know that an older person's foot gets... wider?). A new boot unfortunately needs a new binding and so the twelve year old skis became obsolete. Capitalism at play! So I am dying to try out practically the last Rossignols still available on the marketplace! People are crazily buying out Nordic skis -- I blame the pandemic. Or supply chain issues. Or both. In any case, for me, new skis happen once in a blue moon.  I am so ready for the thrill of a new skiing season.

Obviously we are not there yet.

In the meantime, I am back to packing a suitcase and wrapping presents by the tree. (With my cookie break there as well.)

 

 

 

We all try super hard to hit it just right with the kids. (The grownups these days post wish lists: we are done with guessing the needs of big people!) Skis for Snowdrop are one big hope for me. (Sparrow gets a pair of play skis which are an iffy thing as he was not so much into the snow last winter. If Primrose comes up during the winter, she can try her hand at skiing as well, since the skis don't require a special shoe.) Snowdrop claims to really want to learn. But of course, we need the weather to cooperate. Oh, for a snowy season!

Fact is, the kids always surprise us with their chosen favorite presents or toys. As my daughter commented -- nothing, absolutely nothing we will give Snowdrop for Christmas will bring her as much joy as the stupid paper badge she wears every single day proclaiming that she is an "Official Word Detective." We don't know where it came from or what it stands for. We have all taped up the tears dozens of times. She wears it to school, she wears it at home. She'll probably wear it to her wedding -- there, over a beautiful dress, a paper badge proclaiming she is the "Official Word Detective."

 

 

 

Speaking of Snowdrop, here she is, leaving school. All these days she has come out bundled up to the max. Today, by far the coldest day of the year and she is without her jacket, without anything at all. Go figure.

Lately we've been playing this game we made up called "there is no Santa Claus." I challenge that claim with evidence that I produce of there being a Santa, she takes apart my challenges. She is in that delicious phase where she really doesn't buy into it anymore, but she doesn't want to let go of it either. Much like her other worlds of fairies and magic.

And in the evening -- here at the farmhouse, all is calm, all is bright. And that's such a good thing!