New Year's Day

I'm asleep before midnight. Of course I am. But I hear the footsteps up the stairs. Looking at the clock I see that it's 11:59.
Gorgeous? I thought you'd want to know -- it's midnight. Happy New Year.
I smile and go back to whatever indifferent dream had been interrupted.

Welcome to a new day in a new month of a new year!

In the morning, Ed says -- what's so special about this day anyway?
It's a cause for celebrating!
Why?
For one thing, we've made it this far!

We talk about going skiing, but as wisps of sunlight come and go then disappear altogether, we stay rooted at the farmhouse.

Ah, but breakfast, still touched by that elusive sunshine, is absolutely lovely! Happy breakfasts to all of you!











And then I sit down to do a final correction (well, it's never final) of a chapter of my book and even though my pace has slackened so much that I begin to have doubts that the manuscript will be squeaky clean this year, I feel no guilt nor worry about that. Does it really matter, so long as I still enjoy the process of rewriting sentences?


In the afternoon, I am with Snowdrop. I arrive in time to feed her lunch. (Today: golden beet soup and fruit for dessert.)

Ah, the many faces of Snowdrop. Maybe I needn't provide my own take on her play. We can guess what's in her little head, no? For this first day of the new year, let me just run through a dozen Snowdrops. After all, this is her month. Her year. Her glory. And our delight (or else you would not have stayed with Ocean this long!).









































































Happy New Year indeed!

New Year's Eve

Such a year. Surely we'll all admit that 2015 had its memorable twists and turns!

It used to be that a change from one year to the next mattered a lot to me. Something about new beginnings, new efforts, fresh perspectives...

Now, I barely remember that it is New Year's Eve. Is tomorrow more special just because we flip a calendar page? Oh dear, I sound like Ed.

I checked Ocean's post from a year ago, just because I wondered if I did anything special for the change to 2015. I see that our water pump had malfunctioned and we spent this Eve day replacing it in frigid weather. And despite that, I made lobster tails for dinner and baked a raspberry tart for New Year's Day.

That was before I became a grandma.

Today was less ambitious.

We ate breakfast...





And I grocery shopped, but there wasn't a chance in hell I'd be buying something so dignified as lobster tails. I was going for the modest. Something that wouldn't have me cooking tonight. Like shrimp cocktail, where I just make the side salad. (To give me credit, I'll grate my own parmiggiano cheese to sprinkle over the lettuce.)


It's a pretty day. A really pretty day.






And after shopping, but before Snowdrop care, I suggest a quick run (with Ed) on skis. It's crusty and slippery out there and the trails aren't groomed, but the skies are blue and the temps are brisk and we have a wonderful time of it. It's an "only in Wisconsin" moment (even though I do understand we're not the only ones with beautiful winter days).






A hurried selfie:






And a race back to the parking lot. I don't want to be too late for Snowdrop.






I get to the little girl's house just in time to feed her sweet potato. With banana. Honestly, it's good!






After, her mom and I get ready to take down the Christmas tree. Snowdrop is thrilled to be part of the activity. Any activity.

But she's not hard to distract. Here, she's practicing her fine motor skills (ah, those delicate fingers!) by flipping hard to turn pages.






One last photo from underneath the Christmas tree...






Then it's tidying for us and walking for her. Up and down, up and down (while Goldie the sedentary cat protests the burden of the new gate).






It's the end of a year of Snowdrop for us all, that's for sure.

Here's what she and I have done so many times in this past year: selfies!






Here's the lovely silly girl, rolling on the floor:






Another selfie. In one of her new favorite poses.






Her mom unpacked oranges. Eventually, Snowdrop had some segments for dinner. Here, she's enjoying their play function.






Her mom flies her in the air...






... snuggles with her on the couch...






... and then it's time for me to go home.

...To a quiet supper with Ed, with a glass of bubbly, thoughts meandering to the girls in my life and the men that keep us smiling. That's my New Year's Eve.

It's not anywhere near midnight yet but I surely will not be awake then and so please accept my early wishes for a beautiful new year!

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!