November. Seriously? Mentally I’m still in September and I have trouble remembering it’s the sock time of the year. Because socks are vile things. OK, OK, they do serve a very useful purpose. I just don’t like socks.
Ingrid wakes up every morning and runs to the window hoping to see snow. I remember that. November is my birthday month and I was always hoping the snow will be there when the day arrives (lucky for me the birthday is at the end of the month, so it almost always did arrive). So I watched the color bleed of the world, day by day, slowly, relentlessly. Waiting. Enjoying the wait. Of course I loved the snow, but waiting, anticipation was as much fun.
I guess it can be hard to like this weird kind of reverse spring that November is. Just think about it as a month of finding happiness in the pursuit (and no, I don’t mean the pursuit of Christmas presents).
Case in point. This is just one of these small, totally random things my kids are doing. Alvar found this small, plastic, yellow boat in the sandbox (I did or did not say “there you are” when he found it. It’s supposed to be in the bathroom to be played with in the tub. I didn’t know it’s a desert boat) It was filled with frozen rain water. The best fun was breaking the ice. After accomplishing the mission they moved on to other important tasks. Swing. And then we roasted some apples (camera retired at this point)