Monday

Next week we'll sign the legal documents to purchase Golden Grain Farm. For now we traipse over there every day to make sure the furnace is running. This is snapped from behind the picture window in the living room, and the batteries must have been dying, and it was dusk.

Tuesday

Every year Everett and I make sugar cookies before Christmas. He is meticulous and especially loves the cutting and decorating.

Wednesday

Once in a while you can find a clean countertop in the kitchen.

Thursday

Sometimes we don't get to the new house till after dark. The green light is above the doors of the quonset, which is alongside the driveway.

Friday

Grandma turned 91 on Friday so I drove to town, bought candy, nuts and flowers, and went to see her. When I arrived she was in the common room doing exercises with a good-sized group of the residents. Here they are rolling a ball around on their bodies.

Afterward we went to Grandma's room.

The farmhouse in the painting behind her chair is the one where she and Grandpa raised their children. Karen and I spent many happy days there as children, ourselves. It's gone now but in my dreams and memory it remains a beloved place.

Saturday

My heinous plan was to be in Wadena at 10 a.m. when the farmers' market opened up so I could buy rosettes (mm, treat), were I lucky enough to find any. But last night Scott and I went to a party and were up later than usual, the end result being that I was still snoozing at 10:00. (Never mind; Scott slept most of the day and only got out of bed when I rousted him at 7:30 this evening, to make sure he was all right; and he's only made it as far as the couch even now. Here it is, almost 9:30, and I am in my pyjamas with my teeth brushed and ready to climb under the quilts and read a while. I doubt it will be long.)

This is the first time I've seen rosettes with mini-marshmallows stuck into their centres, but I bought two trays from the first table, before finding them at several others. Taking no chances, me. I curbed the instinct to buy flatbread and lefse, two other Scandinavian favourites that were also on offer. A girl can only eat so much. Besides, those I can make myself if I quit being so lazy any one of these days.

The rosettes I've never made. They are deep-fried and I think (Joanne?) made of flour and egg. And sugar of course.

Instead of the usual 6 or 8 tables at the market there were 40, so I picked up honey and perogies and several items made of llama's wool, for Christmas gifts.

***

"Love is in the heart, not in the head."
(courtesy of Marya's webpage, thanks emdot)

(((((((((((((((((((()((((((((((((((()(((((((((((((()(((((((((((