Snow Day the First

The first deep snow in which the girls played for a great length of time froze them to the bone. It was about 6 degrees, and the windchill brought the temps. to below zero, but Millie was so fearful of that day being their last chance that I brought them out. Susannah and I were numb in about ten minutes, but Millie and Annika, though just as numb, played for another 45 minutes before I brought them inside for hot chocolate. When I see ice blocks securing bare skin to wrist-sleeves, I know it's time.

Millie likes to munch that ice once she's indoors...


So does Annika.


Unlike Millie, though, Annika complains about the cold of it in between munches.


Susannah's reaction to her first taste of snow was doubtful.



Her second wasn't much better.


But she had fun, anyway, for the ten minutes of sub-zero, frostbite danger I let her wallow in.



Millie used her almost-hour wisely, by shoveling snow.



Weighing the pros and cons of giant misdeeds (look carefully at her arm bundle and tell me she's not thinking of doing something naughty).



Our window was spared (by her, at least; she decided to wait for my knee to do the dirty work), and she went excavating and mountain-climbing with her tuzzins who gleefully joined them for a bit.


The clothesline served as climbing rope.


Annie played, too. Here is proof.








She also became mired in snow before we went in. This is her requesting help in the most mournful tones imaginable. She now tells me, perhaps due to this formative day, "Me not wike a [s]now's wunch [crunch]," and Millie has to hold hands with her as they walk through any deep drifts.

Snow Day the Second

Next time, with the weather no longer bitter, they played in soggy snow. Thank you, March! Susannah loved it. She tried to walk through it, but face-falling convinced her of the superiority of snow-crawling. I let her play with abandon.



I meant abandon literally, but I had to step in when I saw her doing things like this (note the pulled off mitten)...


And then this, which made me laugh quite a bit.



All the while, her sisters constructed a snow tower that rivalled Babel in its heights.




And they played in dirty mounds of snow, with variations.











They ate dirty snow, too.



And they threw it at each other.




Lastly, they rediscovered the lilac bushes, the same ones that had been hoping they'd been forgotten for good. (And I've since given the girls a lesson on appropriate trees to climb. One-- they must be sturdy. Two-- they must not belong to other people who may not appreciate midget climbers. I failed to mention my own breaking of those two rules on untold occasions because, in my bottomless pool of mother's wisdom, I choose what's best for them to know.)

Lamb the First

This day was our first lamb, so even though it wasn't super fluffy or cuddly, the bit of warmth in the air was enough for this lazy Mama to listen to her children's pleas.

This old school backpack carrier has become a great help now that Susannah's chubbiness strains the limits of my (limited) strength.



Millie licking the snow.... I think.



We tried for a family portrait, minus the working Gypsy.
Susannah shows up in this one, but my big head takes up the rest of the frame.


The girls show up in this one (painfully smiling), but Susannah's shy. So, now, in your mind's eye, piece Susannah from the top onto the rest of us in the bottom, and you'll have a fine picture of the four of us.


Millie follows the invisible animal's tracks instead of the more obvious ones to her left. Those are for tracking amateurs.




Annika looking at the mostly frozen stream.



Millie making snowballs by the playground.


The twirlybird is frozen, but Millie tried to give it a whirl.




And then the sun went away, we froze, and we all ran home.

You Guessed It-- Lamb the Second

The next warm day, Susannah again tethered to my back in that wonderful thing, we retraced our steps to the park. We took two apples and found untold pinecones, sticks, and stones. An endless supply of these treasures exists, which is a good thing, because children never tire of them. It's good for the girls to be outdoors again. Our shared exhilaration enlarges my spirit, too, especially after being cooped in the house for three weeks or so, except for the once-a-week adventure to Ithaca for worship with the saints.


Apples:



Mildred always wants me to inspect the blemishes on apples to see if they're fit to eat.





Pinecones and playgrounds:

They're making "pinecone prints." I know because I asked.



Being short makes Annika awfully grumpy.


Sticks and stones:

They're making stick tracks. I know because I asked.



A lot of this happened before they began stick-splashing.
We went home a bit wet.




This is the stones part, only they're watching the splash. The stones are sinking.



And we went home. Jiggety-jig, little pig.



The shutter didn't open all the way, hence the nifty, accidental frame.