A Gloriously Freezing 2015
After discovering the Viking Child fast asleep on the sofa to a film that was only half way done, it's easily assessed that he ignored the very generous post-New Years bed time, and decided to hail 2015 by staying awake til approximately 9am with Disney films. All 6'1" of him is curled up in as tiny a ball as his form allowed him to roll into, covered only in a flimsy crochet afghan that is bare protection against the current cold temps leaking indoors. It's very, very cold out. And I believe our water pipes have frozen. The sun is shining, so hopefully enough warmth will thaw our ancient plumbing. One of the charms of living in this rambling, beautiful old place. I pray for world peace, for unending human kindness, every belly sated with food, and my blessed plumbing free of ice.
All frustration aside from obvious rule breaking, the Viking is an absolute cherub when sleeping. He's a mess of long, curly hair that's framing his overly beautiful face like a baby Arch Angel. I can't get over how his face is all the angles and planes of a man, and so happy his youth still rounds out his cheeks and chin...at least for a little while. Fifteen. Sigh. My middle Snapeling is fifteen. This year will issue new ages to all my babes. I feel as though I stopped gaining years at twenty-eight, but my babes keep tallying. Viking Child grew about 9 inches this last year, and I don't exaggerate. Never have I seen a boy grow so much in such a short time. It's been his year of consistant starvation, lethargy, and achy bones! I won't even think about how much money we've spent helping his poor self stretch so fast.
Hearing from my precious Mother, who is nestled away in her manor house in Germany once again, was a treat. It's wonderful thinking of her and my Father nestled away against the snow in their beauteous home. They have chosen a small, quaint room as the space they spend most their time in together, with their squashy chairs and endless supply of old films. I adore them. Jet lag will keep her from her studio and Father from his library, I'm so infinitely proud of them. My father, the great historian of his age, and my Mother, the nurturer and Artist who helped him to become the Great Man that he is. I hate that we are separated by so many miles. Our little castle hidden away in our groves is filled with precious memories of them, Photos, art my Mother has created for us, artifacts and wonderful books from Father. It is a poor substitute to their company, but I will hold on to anything that seems to make them closer.
I hear our roosters crowing. Apparently the freeze doesn't clog bird pipes as it does underground metal ones.
I see the last of the leaves of the great trees have been taken by the winds and frost, they're skeletons now. Very pretty. The Troubadour Child's room is flanked on two sides by endless windows, and when I walked into his room this morning to put away his clothes, I remembered how like a tree house his space is. His gargoyle collection, my Great-Grandmother's velvet burgundy chairs, and dark wood furniture is deliciously Gothic with the spindly branches criss-crossing as the back drop. I love Winter, and I love my Troubadour.
Christmas was a mass explosion of art supplies for all the Snapelings. Their Nana's convictions of a necessary creative outlet led to all Snapelings receiving renewed supplies of paints, water color paper, eisel for the Youngest Child, and countless other bits and bobs that make all thier rooms resemble her studio. It will be wonderful to see the what new works we will hang this year.
The Snape did, in fact, stay with us all evening. While The Eldest Child and I sewed, Snape and The Viking Child made us laugh with their dry, acerbic wit. New Year's Eve was a lovely occasion! Quiet, simple, and sweet. Today we will have The Snape's Niece and her family over for food and company. I adore this sweet lady! She is the epitome of a fairy tale's Good Witch. Quirky, gentle, deep thinking, whimsically dressed, and generally and very sadly misunderstood by the masses. It will be an enjoyable afternoon. The Great Room needs a good cleaning though! And this reminder will now end this post!
All frustration aside from obvious rule breaking, the Viking is an absolute cherub when sleeping. He's a mess of long, curly hair that's framing his overly beautiful face like a baby Arch Angel. I can't get over how his face is all the angles and planes of a man, and so happy his youth still rounds out his cheeks and chin...at least for a little while. Fifteen. Sigh. My middle Snapeling is fifteen. This year will issue new ages to all my babes. I feel as though I stopped gaining years at twenty-eight, but my babes keep tallying. Viking Child grew about 9 inches this last year, and I don't exaggerate. Never have I seen a boy grow so much in such a short time. It's been his year of consistant starvation, lethargy, and achy bones! I won't even think about how much money we've spent helping his poor self stretch so fast.
Hearing from my precious Mother, who is nestled away in her manor house in Germany once again, was a treat. It's wonderful thinking of her and my Father nestled away against the snow in their beauteous home. They have chosen a small, quaint room as the space they spend most their time in together, with their squashy chairs and endless supply of old films. I adore them. Jet lag will keep her from her studio and Father from his library, I'm so infinitely proud of them. My father, the great historian of his age, and my Mother, the nurturer and Artist who helped him to become the Great Man that he is. I hate that we are separated by so many miles. Our little castle hidden away in our groves is filled with precious memories of them, Photos, art my Mother has created for us, artifacts and wonderful books from Father. It is a poor substitute to their company, but I will hold on to anything that seems to make them closer.
I hear our roosters crowing. Apparently the freeze doesn't clog bird pipes as it does underground metal ones.
I see the last of the leaves of the great trees have been taken by the winds and frost, they're skeletons now. Very pretty. The Troubadour Child's room is flanked on two sides by endless windows, and when I walked into his room this morning to put away his clothes, I remembered how like a tree house his space is. His gargoyle collection, my Great-Grandmother's velvet burgundy chairs, and dark wood furniture is deliciously Gothic with the spindly branches criss-crossing as the back drop. I love Winter, and I love my Troubadour.
Christmas was a mass explosion of art supplies for all the Snapelings. Their Nana's convictions of a necessary creative outlet led to all Snapelings receiving renewed supplies of paints, water color paper, eisel for the Youngest Child, and countless other bits and bobs that make all thier rooms resemble her studio. It will be wonderful to see the what new works we will hang this year.
The Snape did, in fact, stay with us all evening. While The Eldest Child and I sewed, Snape and The Viking Child made us laugh with their dry, acerbic wit. New Year's Eve was a lovely occasion! Quiet, simple, and sweet. Today we will have The Snape's Niece and her family over for food and company. I adore this sweet lady! She is the epitome of a fairy tale's Good Witch. Quirky, gentle, deep thinking, whimsically dressed, and generally and very sadly misunderstood by the masses. It will be an enjoyable afternoon. The Great Room needs a good cleaning though! And this reminder will now end this post!
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