walk through a Wednesday

We had time for only one activity this morning. We almost tossed a coin: big box store errands or skiing?

We chose big box store. We needed their chocolate for our late night indulgence.

That may be a winning option, but it does limit the photos you'll see here today. Yes, of breakfast, which was so very lovely...






Then not much else in the morning. Curiously, I took my camera with me on the big box outing, but of course, my optimism was misplaced. Alright -- one shot of the lovely landscape we passed on our way there (made even lovelier by the wisp of blue in the skies just at the time we set out).





That's it.

My afternoon was with Snowdrop but it was a choppy time of hustling her between one space and the next. Stuff was being installed and reconfigured in her house and so I saw my task as keeping her out of trouble as nails and tools were in high use. Not easy considering that today, the little girl only wanted to walk. Back and forth, from one end of the house to the next...






... and back again, picking up speed as the day progressed.






Upstairs, it was the same thing. There, the terrain is easy for her -- all carpet -- and so she adds the challenge of carrying things. If her hands are already occupied, the mouth will do.






Snowdrop got a doll for Christmas. There's plenty of mechanics and science in her world. There's room for a doll. The little babe came with a tiny bottle and it amuses us no end that Snowdrop likes to pull the bottle out of the babe's mouth to try it out for herself.






Walking with it, of course. But she has compassion for the babe. She goes back to give her a "will you forgive me?" hug.






Back and forth.






In the evening, she comes with me to the farmhouse while her parents spend some time catching up on grown up conversation.

Back and forth.






Okay, with pauses for penguin books.






... back and forth...






But wait... is grandpa Ed watching a nature show about penguins? Penguins?!?






It seems to me that Snowdrop grew a few years just these past handful of days. But I know it's just a grandma's perspective. A grandchild is always better, wiser, stronger than she was a few days back.

And faster. Just look at Snowdrop hustle across a living room... And back again.

a wintry Tuesday

Most of my (formerly) Midwest friends have relocated to the south. Oh, they were slow to leave initially. But the winter sojourns turned into year round events and poof! They're suddenly residents of places such as Florida and New Mexico.

I claim to like the seasons. I tell people near and far that snowfalls are beautiful and though cold, Wisconsin has the virtue of sunshine in the wintertime. Give me a sunny 10F (-12C) over a damp, foggy 30F (-1C) anytime! -- I say this with utter conviction.

But there's a twist: you need to get used to the cold. Cheepers need time to grow extra feathers, humans need time to grow resilient. In other words, when the first snowstorms come our way, it feels unpleasantly cold out there!






I went out to free the cheepers.






Brrr! I gave them extra bread, I shoveled the path to the farmhouse door, I went inside and slammed the door behind me.

Still, it is tempting to step out and reacquaint myself with winter, especially in the two minutes where the sun poked through (I caught that from the upstairs of the farmhouse).






Ed runs the snowblower to make it easy for me to back out the car. He eats a small breakfast. Snow drips down from his jacket to the kitchen floor.






In the late morning, I ask him if we should go cross country skiing. I would have been okay had he said no. It just felt so cold out there! But he doesn't hesitate -- let's go!

And of course, if you're moving around on skis, it takes no time to warm up.






Ed's a late comer to skiing. He often feels unsteady at the beginning of the season. For me, skis and skates are my childhood friends. And still, he and I do well together. I sometimes take detours for an extra workout. But inevitably, we'll ski through a beautiful stretch ever so thankful to be out on this gray but beautiful winter day together.






In the afternoon, I am with Snowdrop.

Look, grandma! A tiny book about penguins!






Isn't that grand?






With Christmas and a birthday celebration, and many adoring relatives delighting in this very first grandchild in our extended clan, there are a number of new toys in her home. (By contrast, I had a doc's appointment earlier today. My MD admitted to having four grandchildren. When I expressed delight, he said -- well, the oldest girl is reasonable and quiet. The three boys? It's like a tornado passing through. I had the feeling that "adoring" was not the attitude adopted by those sharing the holidays with the younger bunch.)






The little one is, of course, delighted. And playful. In love with it all.






But her main way of attacking the new is to try to understand what makes it tick. She has spent many intense moments trying to figure out how to flip those tightly bound pages of a cardboard book. Here, she is trying to understand the operation of a plastic pretend vehicle of sorts.






Again and again, she wants to get it.






All this is rather exhausting for her. She pauses, she asks to be held, she perseveres.

I'm thinking that it's tough to be an almost one year old.


I go home tired, because I know she is tired. Ah, but tomorrow - that's another day. How good is that!

sooner or later

When you live in the Upper Midwest, sooner or later you'll get a winter storm. If you're a kid, or a grownup with "winter wonderland" lust, you hope for copious amounts of delicate snow. But of course, the storms that pound through here during winter months have their own ideas.

Today, we were told we'd have a mixture of freezing rain, sleet and snow, with high winds and treacherous  conditions all day and into the wee hours of the night and the forecasters were spot on.

I hurried to let the cheepers out before all this hit us hard, but chickens have an uncanny sense of what's ahead, because neither Butter nor Scotch wanted to go more than a few paces outside the coop. Just enough to fill up on my stale bread pieces.

I returned to the farmhouse, warmed up under the quilt and watched the stuff come down.

We ate breakfast facing the slowly changing landscape outside...





But it is Monday and if it's Monday, it must be Snowdrop at the farmhouse day.

I can only guess what goes through the head of an almost one year old who has just come off of a weekend with the most extraordinary set of events and with a room full of people watching her every move for three days in a row.

We worried that the sudden return to normal would be tough for her, but the fact is, at the farmette, things don't change much: sometimes she comes here for dinner, sometimes just to hang out and there's almost always an Ed on the couch for at least part of the visit and there are the same old toys -- oh, maybe supplemented by one or two new things, but not much. And all that sameness must be somewhat reassuring because in fact, she is today her usual friendly, calm self.

If I were to guess what she is thinking:

I like my new toy, grandma...






But oh! Is that penguin?? Let me tell him about my extraordinary weekend!






Let me show penguin my new toy...






Oh, and my penguin books! I'm so happy to see them again!






I do like the new little train, grandma.






By the way, grandma, did you move the vinyl records I used to climb on? You did? Hmm!






That's okay. I've got plenty to keep me happy.






The snow, sleet, winds rage outside. We watch Ed do the short walk from the sheep shed...






Snowdrop's delighted to see him. It's as if he erases her worry that her world has suddenly shrunk to just one.






She retains her usual bursts of energy...






But she needs her more quiet times too. We make sure she gets both.


Late, toward evening, I pack her into the car and we make the suddenly grueling trip to her house. A nine minute ride is nearly three times that. The roads are, as predicted -- awful, but I live in a state where people are used to this stuff and more than once I am so very grateful that the drivers in front and in back have the good instinct to use their snow and ice smarts.

I don't linger at Snowdrop's home. Just enough to watch her delve with the greatest concentration into a new toy...






... and then I am back on the road, this time with a lot less worry, as I haven't that precious child in the back seat, one who still holds on to that total trust in the adults around her.


At the farmhouse, there is no question but that I should make a pot of chili. On a day like this, you just want to eat warm, filling foods and stay so very grateful for the furnace that comes on like clockwork. There's magic for you! Warm air and warm food on a cold, cold day.


I want to end with a P.S.: many of you have written quite special comments, emails, personal messages and wishes during this holiday season. Thank you! It's always tough during busy periods to respond as promptly as I think your words deserve, but don't think for a minute that I haven't loved hearing from you.

the end of a holiday weekend

I am up early. I'll get the cheepers, I mumble to Ed. I may as well do chicken duty. I want to put away dishes and tidy up a bit and more importantly, I want to roll out and bake one last thing: "apple puffies," we used to call them when I first started making them for my family decades ago. They became my younger girl's favorites and though her palate has meandered to bigger and better places, I think we all feel a sentimental attachment to these puff pastry treats.






I give Ed a few of them for breakfast and I join him for a bowl of fruit...






... but then I dash off to my daughter's for one last family gathering -- a brunch with those who have not yet left to return home. North, south -- there's lots of driving for them.

We eat our favorites quiches which my younger girl picks up from La Baguette...






A few last photos for you. For me, really. And they're weighted heavily toward the northern couple, not only because Snowdrop feels so very happy in their embrace...






(For the record, she cavorts with her grandpa too, and with her Chicago uncle...






... and Chicago aunt...)






But Snowdrop's wanderings and my gaze return again and again to my younger daughter and her husband because, well, I'm going to miss these guys. As will Snowdrop when she wakes up from her nap and finds the house without their sweet presence.



 







As will my older girl. The closeness between these two sisters is as old as their age and as solid as bedrock granite.






Still, we have to wrap it up.






Oh how too familiar that feeling that comes after the final long hug, the wave! Way too familiar.

(She goes off to nap, the rest pack up and head out.)






Back at the farmhouse, Ed proposes bowling. Definitely a good idea on a day when the house is far too empty and the next family gathering -- not until next year.

Snowdrop and family

In the course of the weekend, all members of Snowdrop's Minneapolis and Chicago family will have passed through Madison to wish her a happy Christmas. It seemed obvious that this, therefore, should be the weekend when we also celebrate Snowdrop's first birthday. True, her real birthday isn't for ten days, but for her Midwest family, today is Snowdrop day.

But first thing's first.

I don't really eat a hefty breakfast with Ed -- I have a date with the small family group gathered at the Hubbard Avenue Diner. Still, Ed and I share at the very least a bowl of fruit and I down my first coffee of the day with him across the table.





And then I dash off for a true breakfast at the Diner.

Again, no time for much writing. My photos give a sense, I hope, of how the day unfolds.

First, Snowdrop. at the Diner. It's her day after all.






... The rest of us:






While she plays with her uncle:












... and her grandpa:






... I have a chance to catch up with my Minneapolis daughter:






But again, this is the littlest girl's day. Here's her favorite food at the Diner: grapes.






She does make it to everyone's lap at one point or another...






And this makes her very happy indeed.


But we don't linger for too long. I, for one, have things to do in preparation for tonight's "birthday" dinner.






(While I'm at it, I throw together a Ligurian lemon cake -- made with lemons, of course, and olive oil. That's for tomorrow's brunch. )






My main focus this afternoon is on again recalling my Parma cooking session with Ricarda. Time to roll out the tortelli!






What I've forgotten is Patrizia's words -- cooking Parma foods is so time consuming! Making the two fillings -- squash and also ricotta-chard -- that's nothing. But rolling out the dough to paper thin strips and stuffing each tortelli -- hours.

The dinner came together because my little girl and eventually her husband came over to help me.






What a team we were!











(When Snowdrop showed up with her parents and her Chicago family, we were almost ready for them. Almost.)






Once again, the girl moves from one set of arms to the next...
















Finally, dinner. And what a meal it was, including the appetizers -- the prosciutto, the parmiggiano, and because this is the most special of days -- the precious traditional Balsamic.

We feasted on it all!









(parents and aunt and uncle from Chicago)


(FYI, Snowdrop preferred the squash to the ricotta-chard. Perhaps the crushed amaretti biscuits in the squash stuffing clinched the deal for her.)






Then comes the cake, which arrived with grandpa and bubbie from Chicago.






We sang, we toasted, and the sweet sweet almost one-year-old sailed through it all heroically.












(Yes, she loves cake!)






Presents. Birthday presents. Following upon Christmas, you could say that this was just too much celebrating, but the little one was delighted each time someone placed colorful wrappings before her.






It was a glorious day, with the terrific ending of having my younger girl and husband do the bulk of the clean up for me.


You could say that this was Snowdrop's day, but to me, it felt as if someone has just been piling gifts on my lap.

It's been one beautiful holiday weekend.