A Sun to set! Like that Wizard of Oz moment, where gray and gloom turns all greeny and pinky.
A warm day today! I think we hit 6C, which is a lovely temperature after the negative C’s we’ve been having. This evening, the sun came out and reminded us that it is still hot and shall be warming us very, very soon. But first, some Christmas. Oh and some January.
“Richter” one of the new bulls on the farm ( named by Brent for his amazing 9.5 score on the bull scale ), is enjoying the bright while snuggling into some hay. You’ll be with the girls soon, Richter, munch up you’ll need the energy.
The sun also shines on the hills and a farmer tidying up before he takes his daughter to fencing.
The sun also warms up the brick walls of our old Gascon farmhouse. The cold is winning, but the fire inside keeps hope alive.
Tosca is finishing up her great find. Could be a small bunny, an old bone or maybe she’s practicing her smile for when a small puppy might arrive. Or is that a growl…
Mint is out without a coat, sweeping up. I’ve tried several times to chuck that old broom, but the kids keep bringing it back into their games. I must admit, it’s a solid broom, but too short for me to use. Evidently, it can fly!
Last night, Otto read his poem while I was cooking Bolognese. Were I to write a recipe on how to make Bolognese, I would absolutely include the part about your eight-year-old son reciting a poem in French as you bubble your onions in butter. The dish surrenders to this whispering and yields six portions without despair.
As the bready beasts were bubbling away, this is when we talked of Marcie. “Marcie is in love with CHARLIE!” Lucy lays down. “Charlie loves Peppermint Patty!” Lucy says. “I thought Marcie loved Peppermint Patty?” I add. “NO! Charlie Brown loves the little redhead girl,” Otto corrects. “Peppermint Patty loves Chuck.” “Why is the ‘Little Redhead Girl’ called the ‘Little Redhead Girl, anyway!?'” Good question, Otto. Things, other than Bolognese, got a bit heated. Otto has been reading the Peanuts Gang. He loves the adventures of Snoopy and Woodstock. He puzzles about this redhead and all the dialog between girls and boys.
And this is “Pyro,” Otto’s Halloween costume. It’s not even October and I’m off sewing or buying stuff for the nextest holiday. Lucy is busy committing us to the big evening dress. I must admit, I admire her planning.
Tonight, I watched the sunset. I know people who can take a photo of a sunset. I am not that person. I can never get the color right. The sound is missing. The nervous excitement never comes across as I watch the sunset, then the brown dots in their rectangle, then pasture as planned by Brent, then more flaming clouds, then brown dots, then a beautiful gold or is it red or is it now purple. The photo of each sunset needs more than a thousand words to convey its beauty. If you try, you can see a gorgeous sunset every day-to-night. That sun does that sunset thing all the time. Even through Seattle gray, you know it’s somewhere, west, setting. Each sunset is a unique and special snowflake. I miss them so often because I can’t be bothered or I’m bothered. Tonight, though, I caught it because the pizza was served and the kids were happy and stationary. So I slipped out. I’ll simply say without photographic proof, ” I saw the sun set tonight. It was pretty.”