Tuesday - 291st

The air is thick with a prestorm menace. You wouldn't need a weather person to tell you that we are about to have a significant snow event. I wish we weren't teetering just below the freezing mark. We're bound to get periods of wintry mix and that's never fun. No one likes ice mixed in with that dense shower of snow.

But none of this begins in the morning. For now, our roads are clear and the farmette lands have only yesterday's light snow cover.

Breakfast feels especially cozy on these wintry mornings. 

The kids come, the morning of play unfolds.

(Someone got a haircut at home!)

A new game is introduced, whereby Snowdrop wants to pose for photographs.

This one too is part of her creation. 

We do squeeze in some outdoor play time as well, but I tell you, that prestorm air feels shivery cold. We don't stay out long.

At home, I check and recheck the pantry supplies. Getting a storm today through tomorrow, and having another holiday period come at us immediately after, with a second snow event anticipated on the first day of the new year has you counting your eggs and milk cartons. One more delivery, just one more, late at night as the storm comes at us full force.

A frittata for dinner. I mean, you have to bring out your comfort foods on days when your nose is one cold icicle all day long.

Monday - 290th

There is a winter storm warning for tomorrow afternoon and evening. Exciting for some people, nerve-racking for others, and a combination of the above for still others. I'm in that third camp, hoping for good driving conditions as we shuttle the kids to the farmette, then home, but loving the idea of good skiing with Ed and good outdoor play with the kids. Or at least with one kid. The youngest little one still has reservations about this whole snow play deal.

But this is not on my mind early in the morning. I'm enjoying the one or two inches we have on the ground right now as a result of last night's dusting.

It's cold, but not Arctic-blast cold. Still, if your furnace isn't churning out the warm air, the house can get cold very quickly. And a text from my older girl reveals that their furnace is churning out zero heat. In fact, it's just plain dead.

Now, everyone has different reactions to a dead furnace while there's snow on the ground: My daughter is just plain cold, the kids are antsy because they sense parental anxiety, my son-in-law worries about what mechanical issue may have arisen. Replacing a furnace in the dead of winter is hard enough. Doing it while you are isolating because of Covid is, well, super hard. The one person who does not worry is Ed. He takes on the challenge of figuring out what ails the furnace and he does that without actually laying an eye on the machine. (We have a working breakfast as he studies online instructions for this particular furnace.)

Yes, he could go over to their house and help my son-in-law in the diagnostics and fix of this huge piece of machinery, but why go when you can zoom your way through the whole inspection? As he would explain to me many times, you can't just set out to fix something when you don't even know what tools to take or what parts may have to be replaced.

The mom drops the kids at the farmhouse and Ed and the dad zoom through some troubleshooting steps. And they get it to churn out heat again! At least for now. One can hope that a second failure wont coincide with the winter storm.

(One child always arrives with jacket off. It is true that you can do a thirty second dash from car to farmhouse door and not feel the bitter cold, but still, I am always amazed how she opts for that run rather than a snug walk with a warm coat zipped up tight!)

(Ed and son-in-law on Zoom; Snowdrop excited to see her father on a video call...)

Play indoors...

What you're doing? Pizza for lunch. Can I help?

 

 

 

Play outdoors...

I must admit, I do enjoy a bit of fun out in the snow. Sparrow insists I hold his hand all the time, but at least he is giving it a good try. Snowdrop? Oh, she just loves this new arena for her pretend play and story telling!

In the evening I deal with groceries. I'm cooking a lot these last two weeks of the month and so is everyone else it seems, because grocery deliveries are harder to come by. I snag one for today and given our precarious weather, I'm glad I don't have to worry about it until.... 2021!

Can you believe we are moments away from a new year?!

Sunday - 289th

Two young families that I love so deeply! Each unique and perfect in my eyes. Loving and kind. Playful and smart. I'm sure you recognize these traits, or similar superlative qualities in your children. If they are older, I'm sure they know how hard it is for you to go through these months on these new pandemic terms. For most of us, it's a rare day where we can all see each other in real time rather than through a Zoom or Portal screen. And when we do, even if only outside, with social distancing, etc, it's magic!

I had a double dose of magic: an Illinois park meet up with the younger family in the morning and a Wisconsin farmhouse meet up with the older family. 

There isn't much time to think about it now, or to write about it, perhaps even digest it, but then, there will soon come those long winter months when I can see neither and I will be happy to come back to these images. These scattered family times aren't valuable just in the  day they take place. They stretch into the future and keep me afloat as we wait for the days when we can be well, more normal.

For now, not many words, but a heck of a lot of photos!

 

It's not too cold today -- just around freezing. I'm up early and Ed, in joining me for breakfast, comments -- too bad you don't have sunshine for your outing.

He helps me load the car with Christmas presents and I am off. 

Two hours later, I'm at Raven Glen Forest Preserve - a place for which I will always have total fondness, because it's where I have been able to spend time with Primrose and her parents, even at the height of the pandemic.

And here, two hours south of the farmette, the skies are a gentle blue gray! Lovely!

 

I load some of the gifts onto a sled. Primrose spots this right away when she arrives. There's no snow here, but a sled can be pulled without it!

A walk to the lake. Primrose is holding on to a book that was part of the gift pile...

We were here in the thick of fall and now we are so on to winter! The lake is frozen now.

(Studying a chunk of ice from the lake...)

First attempt at slip sliding (aka skating, of sorts!)...

And loving every minute of it.

Happy girl!

A mango and gingerbread snack...

A dance, a song, a distanced hug. See you in the awesome new year!!!

Two hours later, I am at the farmhouse, taking out the pots for tonight's dinner.

A quick but very sweet, remote Christmas gift check in with the Chicago family (we'd exchanged presents, but it wasn't practicable to open them in the park)...

And now the Madison family comes and it is as any Sunday -- noisy and lively and one could only wish that this was the norm, not the exceptional month when we can do this without worry.

(Snowdrop goes right for the Wobble -- beloved until the moment when she drops the heavy board on her foot!)

(Sparrow, on the other hand, goes for the tiny Legos, still not believing his luck in gaining access to them...)

(An after dinner exhale on the orange couch...)

It's snowing outside. I step out and watch them navigate the quickly accumulating white stuff. 

 

 

 

A gift. This Sunday was a gift.

Christmas 2020. It ends for us tonight.

288th day and a holiday pause

 There is no excitement, no splendid meetup with kids or grandkids. (Another set of very isolated grandparents is visiting with the young family this weekend). No celebration, no cooking craziness in the kitchen. It's a winter day, a quiet winter day. A pause in December's whirligig of activity. 

A working breakfast, in that Ed is trying to keep the handle on my 40 year old pot from falling off. All my pots are very old (except for the nonstick medium frying pan, which gets replaced every five or six years). And they work beautifully! Except when a handle decides to disengage...

There is a lot of catch up work around the farmhouse. Tidying, putting away, washing. But by mid-afternoon, we're ready for a substantial walk. We drive down to one of our favorites -- the Brooklyn Wildlife Area. And we do wear our blaze orange stuff. It's still the hunting season and indeed, we spot at least four hunters with their big rifles and their hounds.

But apart from that, the trail is empty and the air is bracing and the path is ... not too slick!

The next three photos are all about the sky, because really, in these hilly areas, you climb up a bit and look out, and feel yourself always to be dazzled by the enormity and great beauty of the sky. Today we actually veer off the Ice Age Trail (to avoid some hunters) and are rewarded again and again by lovely views across the forests, farmlands and prairies. With a moon, showing off its belly, up above.

And, too, we see an unusually large number of airplane contrails (some actually casting a shadow in the sky), crisscrossing the heavens as if in search of something. There must be little wind up high, or else they'd long be dispersed.

 

One more sky, just a few minutes before sunset. Over a corn field, of course.

By the time we return home, it's growing dark.

Supper? If you like eggs (as we do), here's an idea from Xi'an's Famous Foods chef Jason Wang: scramble up some eggs in a pan, but take them off the skillet just before they're done. Then throw some chopped green onions on the same pan, cook on high for literally less than a minute, then add some roughly sliced tomatoes, and now return the eggs, add a little soy, a dash of salt and you have yourself a super supper! I also roasted some tetsukaboto squash, because we have so much of it from our CSA!

 

And a salad. We are the true salad crunchers. Every day. Green stuff, today with chopped up beauty heart radishes to brighten up a winter plate.

Christmas Day

 Glorious sunshine and bitter cold. 4F (-14C) when I step outside to feed the animals. THe path to the barn feels as solid as rock. Beneath the surface there'll be bugs, frogs and sleepy bumble bees, hiding away for the coldest of the cold months. I wish them a happy rest!

(Tuxie, whose fur coat surely keeps her snug...)

And to the rest of us who haven't the ability or desire to sleep away the season -- well, happy Christmas! (Or, happy winter if Christmas is not your thing.)

Breakfast, just a little special, with Panettone, that Italian sweet bread that is enjoyed by so many all over the world on this day. (I have to smile at the size of this one, which, by the way, I did not bake: just big enough for two. Perfect for 2020!)

I have a lot of baking and food prep for this day, but I do not plunge into it right away. The New Yorker pulled together a handful of holiday-themed stories from years past and they sounded so deliciously tempting that I allowed myself a pause to read just some of them. As a gift, the magazine is making them available for sharing. Here's their description, with my links to each story: 

In “Hack Wednesday,” by Margaret Atwood, a Canadian journalist reflects on her marriage and past decisions as Christmas draws near. In “The Burden of the Feast,” Bobbie Ann Mason recounts growing up on her family’s Kentucky farm and explores the nostalgic allure of holiday cooking. In “Winter in Martinique,” Patrick Chamoiseau describes his enchantment with the Christmas pigs that his mother raised while he was growing up in the Caribbean. Lorrie Moore writes [in Chop-Suey Xmas] about the complexities of celebrating Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Christmas all at once, and James Thurber offers a parody of “A Visit from Saint Nicholas,” drawing inspiration from Ernest Hemingway. In “Year’s End,” by Jhumpa Lahiri, a college student returns home for the holidays to discover that his loved ones have changed in his absence. In “The Christmas Miracle,” Rebecca Curtis conjures a tale of a family gathering that is thwarted by the mysterious deaths of several cats. Finally, Frank McCourt recalls [in Christmas Past] an unconventional holiday dinner that he had with his landlady and her son after returning to New York from a stint in the U.S. Army.

Which ones tempt you? For me, can you guess? Yes, the Kentucky farm (good!) and, too, the disappearing cats (funny, in a strange sort of way)!

There are moments throughout the day when I pause and again, the emotions swell. For the health care workers. For the empty places at tables, for whatever reason. For all of us for whom the vaccination cannot come fast enough. 

(Setting the table for dinner...)

Most of my day is in the kitchen. Baking. The planned buche de Noel takes almost as long as to grow a whole forest of trees. I had tried many recipes over the years and finally, exactly twenty years ago, I settled on one with orange flavored cream and a bittersweet chocolate ganache.  

And the main course? Cornish hens -- another traditional holiday dish for us. I get them ready for the oven.

In the late afternoon, the young family comes. Snowdrop is soooo excited to give me a gift, chosen by herself..

Sparrow is still recovering from a sound afternoon nap, so his mommy helps with the presents. He certainly is on board with the idea of presents!

We all exchange gifts and they are all wonderful! One always wonders what a child will glob onto from the pile before her. Surprisingly, Snowdrop really liked the Wobble. 

The things you can do on a wobble!

I'd thought Sparrow would be too young to enjoy this, but, if Snowdrop likes it then he surely must give it a try...

And now we connect with Primrose!

She, too, gets asked about favorite gift. You can't take a child's word for it, but as of this moment, among all her toys, Primrose chooses .... a pair of scissors and demonstrates the incredibly fun activity of... cutting (while mom gives the old shrug that kids bring out of us so well and so often!)

Okay, the cornish hens are very ready!

The yule log is ready too, but it needs additional touches. Snowdrop applies her artistry...

Later, much later, I have Ed take one more photo before they all take off under a star studded sky. I'll end with this picture, wishing only that the extra little space on my knee had Primrose on it too

I clean up to one last round of holiday music, putting away the last dish to the strains of Silent Night.

With love.