who would have thought...

technology and sunshine

As of today, Ed has a smart phone. One that he purchased for $20 (so a refurbished Android) and without cell service, but still -- he is now exploring all that he can do with it. (Me, I've had a smart phone for a long time and still know only half its capabilities, as evidenced by the fact that I rarely use it for much beyond texts, calls, directions, emails and check deposits.)

The downside of this for me? The proliferation of ringtones (because there is also my phone which at least plays Vivaldi, plus the landline, and his computer zoom ringtones) and the proliferation of cords, right by our lovely new-ish couch.

Over breakfast...





... we talk about changing technologies. The company he has been overseeing all these years is undergoing significant and progressive, I think, changes going forward. We speculate about disruptions: the benefits that follow, the adjustments that need to be made. It's a fast moving landscape. If you're one who is rooted in the present or worse, advocates a return to what one was -- you're eventually going to stumble.


It's a cold day once more. But again, there will be sunshine! I can tell!






(The farmhouse, with the first wisps of blue sky.)





landscape

Speaking of moving landscapes, we are in transition here, at the farmette. We have a neighbor to the west, but otherwise, we are surrounded by fields: some farmed by truck farmers, others dedicated now to a development that will completely reshape our views to the north and east. But the development has stalled and so we are at an impasse. Weeds have taken hold everywhere around us. Someday there will be streets and if I'm lucky, prairie parks and maybe even a playground. For now, there are thick clumps of thistle and who knows what else.

But to my surprise, across the road (so to the southwest), the landowner has sold his fields to another developer who, in exchange for supporting development elsewhere, as a consolation prize, has promised to use this large parcel for a conservation park -- preserving the wetlands and, additionally, creating spaces for educational outreach and urban farming.

Honestly, from my point of view (and I am one who vocally and consistently opposed development here, since it surely will disrupt any number of wetland habitats), we have the prospect of being surrounded by restored prairies and conservation parks. It is a great consolation prize -- I could not be happier!


pink

Snowdrop continues to profess her deep adoration for the color pink. I just looooove it! She'll tell us again and again.

I was shopping online for a farmhouse scarf replacement. I lost her favorite -- "my beautiful scarf!" -- and so of course, I'm looking now for a pink one. And so long as I'm on this lovely website, I browse through their sale items and come across pink socks. What are grandmas for if not to pick up extra pink socks for a granddaughter?!

The two items arrived today. The surprise is in the socks:





Made in Poland! Who would have thought...

not sick

I pick up Snowdrop at the usual time. I look around the class - still severely depleted: only four were present today. I ask if Snowdrop is the only one who hasn't succumbed to the ravaging virus.
Yes, her teacher tells me. We're all going to start eating veggie sticks now! (This is Snowdrop's favorite lunch item these days.)

It's sunny and the temperature isn't too awful: 25F (-4C). But the wind is biting. Still, Ed and I think a few good sled runs on a real hill would be lovely. We pick up him and the two sleds and head for the disc golf course: the hills there should be perfect for Snowdrop.

But on our way, the phone rings. Ed has a sudden dental appointment. (What we thought was a cold turns out to be a dental problem.)

Back we go to the farm, Ed leaves us, Snowdrop and I return to the hills.


snow

We no longer need two sleds for just Snowdrop and me, but I take out both anyway, because the girl likes the little one for rides, but she'll need the big one with me in it for the run down the hill.

It is a brutal tug to the hills. Ed, where are you??

I nearly give up, but I'm not sure if the snow will last: tomorrow promises the start of a warmup. We want to (I want to!) have one good, fast-ish run!

I admire Snowdrop. She has been shuttled from one place to the next then back again. And now it is cold. It is windy. But she doesn't complain about any of it. As I huff and puff and pull her along, she hums songs to herself, turning her face away from the biting wind.

At the bottom of the hill, I should ask her to make the climb on her own, but I don't have the heart. I puff my way up, two sleds in tow, one with my three year old granddaughter.

And now we are at the top. Selfie!







She loves it! It's not a super steep incline and so our speed is moderate, but I have to say, it is well worth the effort to get to it!






Before we head back to the car, Snowdrop wants to take a little walk -- just to the bench and back. This is when you can see the beautiful effect of the wind on the snow!






Her pinkness is reflected in the snow...





So much beauty in one brief trip to the hills...


play

These days, Snowdrop spends a good bit of time in her world of characters and stories. Still, there are some games and plays that she will do only if I take part. Dressing magnetic dolls (a modern version of paper dolls) is one of them.

You might think there is no value in having a toddler dress these cardboard kids. But Snowdrop loves this activity and I blame the public library for introducing her to it (they have a set of similar magnet dolls in the play area). For her, it's an opportunity for more storytelling and for exercising control over a daily routine: getting dressed.






I have no doubt that it's time happily spent.






We do puzzles together as well. Some are grand introductions to reading and today, she turns totally silly with them. No grandma, it's not a fox, it's a telephone!





evening

Ed is playing volley ball tonight. I think about the day, I think about the coming spring, summer, fall. There is so much to think about! To anticipate!

But really, this day is fine in its own right, despite the fact that we are in the thick of winter. Earlier, as Snowdrop and I snuggled on the couch with a short stack of books and a bowl of fruit after our romp with the sleds, she said -- I loooove warm!

It's warm here, at the farmhouse. Lovely warm. In all ways.

winter!

A friend reminded me yesterday that we've hit the middle of meteorological winter. Well then! We have many weeks left for significant snows! Half over, but a whole half before us.

In the meantime, I have to admit -- I'm enjoying the few inches of powder that we have on the ground now. It's cold still, but I hear we'll be drifting past freezing again this weekend. That's a warning: play now, because it may all disappear by Sunday.

Not you, girls! Don't get too brave. Turn right back -- we'll talk about food once you're in the barn.






They said it would be a cloudy day. Well now. Prove them wrong!






Slowly, the sky moves from gray to misty blue... (This view is of the farmette land, as seen from the road.)






But if I am enjoy the snow, it has to be a solo act, or, later in the day -- with Snowdrop. Ed, after avoiding everyone's sniffles, has finally succumbed to some mild version of something or other. He wants to come down for breakfast, but I suggest this as an alternative: upstairs, under the quilt,






As I work in the kitchen, I look out to see visitors. I watch to see if they're finding for sustenance. Seed pods. (Note one in her mouth?) The ones from our lotus trees. Go for it -- there are still several million lying around the yard. (And please leave vulnerable trees and plants alone. Thank you!)






When I pick up Snowdrop from school, I just assume she'll want to head straight for the farmette yard. She doesn't.
I just want to go inside, to read some books and eat fruit and play...
I surely am not going to push her into being out in this cold weather. I lug in her snow apparel, take off mine and start putting it all away.
Grandma, I really do want to go outside!
Whaaaat? Now??
Yes!

I laugh. She laughs. And honestly, she doesn't stop laughing, giggling, teasing for a long, long time.






... after I've put away all our winter stuff?
Yes!!!






Can I take my baby?






Faster, grandma! I loooove fast!











After a half dozen small hill runs -- down and up, down and up... -- I'm ready for a change.
Let's shovel ahah's sheep shed walk!





I'm going to cover you with snow, grandma!






Snowdrop, I have snow everywhere!






Let's go inside.
But I don't want to...
Let's see if ahah will share his cookie with us.







And back to laughter...






Yes, snow with sunshine will bring out the best in us! (A nap and a good snack help.)

and so it snowed...

You know how it is: throw her a penny and she wants a dime. Well, we got a nickel's worth of snow today and yes, I would have liked a dime.

Oh, it was enchantingly pretty to wake up to this! (Looking out from the porch...)






I went out happily to rescue the cheepers from the misery of being trapped in the barn, fed them well and admired the beauty of the delicate snow.






(Yellow farmhouse, white snow... still falling!)






But it is cold and the snow is very delicate: like meringue. I bend down to form a snowball. I can't do it -- the pack of snow crumbles in my hand.

Still, it continues to fall -- delicate stuff, but more of it. Well, just a little more of it. I'd be surprised if we had more than four inches total and it is a fluffy pile of inches. Clamp it down and it's like a squashed sponge cake, only not as sticky.

(Breakfast, with a pretty view...)






I shovel the driveway. Ed offers to blow it out, but is it worth starting the great machine for it?

But more importantly, is it good enough for cross country skiing?

Weeeeell...

Ed and I head out to our nearby county park. It's exciting to be going skiing again. It's our first chance to do it this winter!






It's so pretty here!






But it's not a good run. There just isn't enough of a solid cover and Ed worries that he's scratching his skis. He takes them off. I try to take a downhill turn and fall hard when the boards catch gravel.

We continue on flatter ground, Ed still off skis. And now he crosses a patch of ice and falls even harder than me.

We proceed more cautiously, both on skis now and honestly, it is a fun hour despite the difficulties, but my oh my, would we love a good old snowstorm. (Not the damaging kind -- just a wet, lovely, thick snow blanket for our winter landscape.)

(Driving home... The whole band of forested land is the farmette.)






In the afternoon, Snowdrop comes over. And of course, she is terribly excited about building "the biggest snowman ever!!"

This is the best we could do:






Ed calls it our snow-clump. I tell Snowdrop the snowman looks better if she kneels next to him.






Ever the optimist, she asks -- can we build a snow house?
You can't blame me for not trying...






But grandma, it doesn't have a roof!

I explain to her that the roof (and the walls and everything in between) will have to wait for more snow.

We take the little sled and scoot about the farmette. And I have an idea.
Snowdrop, there is a secret house out here that you can enter, and it has a roof and it's very beautiful. I point to the tall firs that grow toward the far end of the farmette land. You can climb into it, see?

She does see. She scoots underneath the vast branches.






Just big enough for her. Fairly dry, with the scent of pine needles.





Can I come in?
If you ring the door bell!

But it's really to cramped for me. It's hers. And she is very reluctant to leave it!







Come on, little one! We can visit the cheepers!

Yes, that does it. Feeding them in the barn still ranks as a favorite of hers.






Can I play with them for a little bit?
One quick minute!






Indoors again, she is full of spark!






Her parents come over for dinner and she ropes them into her stories.






And of course, when Snowdrop talks, everyone, even Ed listens!






It's a beautiful day, a holiday of course. True, the snow presented small challenges, but more significantly, it delivered such great joys! And I am sure as anything, everyone will sleep well tonight!

Sunday

Let's sweeten up this cold cold day with an Ocean romp -- at least in the morning hours -- with Snowdrop.

She is sleeping over at the farmhouse and she wakes up late, happy, and hungry.

Breakfast number one. Mmm, corn flakes.






Not done yet! Mmm, granola.





It's very cold outside. Barely touching 0F (-18C). I look out the kitchen window: a cat, so orange and fluffy that if she were your pet you'd call her fluffy, walks up the barn path.
Ed!
He's downstairs, looking for his jacket in a flash. Is it a stray cat? Should we feed her?
From Snowdrop: I'm going with him! I want to help!

Jacket over p.j.s, cap, mitts. The cheepers hear the commotion. They think it's all about them of course.





Snowdrop feeds the cheepers, Ed puts out kitty food. But the cat is gone. She was, as the others were, merely passing through.

Bath time, dressing time. It's so cold that I want to see an undershirt underneath her tunic.
Grandma, I don't need the sweater dress. I am very warm like this.
Snowdrop is at that age: she wants a voice in the major decisions affecting her life.






Sometimes you stand back and let her take the lead. At other times, you show her that it's pink and has a penguin who wants to snuggle next to her...






Breakfast number two. With Ed. This one is the big morning meal and it has her favorites these days: scrambled eggs and bacon.






She should be going home, but, well, there are the characters and the stories...
Can I play for one little minute?






(Good grounds for a tease...)






Okay. Let me do the dishes while you play.
I'll help!






Eventually we head back to her house. So cold, so very cold! On the upside (and there is always an upside), we may be getting some snow tonight.

... and we'll build a snow house and a snowman...
... with pine cone eyes and a carrot nose...






It is a quiet afternoon. I resist cleaning, I defer taking care of anything at all. Our family dinner is postponed until tomorrow. I open up my kindle and read.