A couple of days ago it snowed again, so once more we've been stuck on the smallholding. I'm unwilling to try walking the four miles to town with Megan in a sling - in case I slip on the ice and accidentally destroy her. To save us from cabin fever, Phil suggested we go on a little walk around the land this evening, and I persuaded him to wear Megan (he has really good grips on his boots!) which gave me a break from carrying the stone or so that she weighs (now when anyone tells me they've lost a stone, I am extremely impressed. Before Megan, I had no idea how heavy a stone was). We wrapped her up well in several layers, as well as leg warmers and a Peruvian hat with ear flaps, then attached a fleece blanket around her over the top of the sling. She looked like she was being carried in a royal chariot.
It was getting dark as we left the house and headed up the track, the remaining patches of snow shining out bright white in contrast to the dark wet patches. Megan was happy to be out in the air, and stopped her fretful teething for the duration. Then something strange happened. Phil noticed that Meg was staring at the darkening sky, a look of consternation on her face. We turned to see what it was that had caught her attention, and saw the moon. As you know, Megan loves light fittings, but her reaction to this - the most regal of all the natural light fittings supplied with the earth (save the sun, the Mother of all Light Fittings) - was not giggly and light-hearted. Instead she took the moon very seriously indeed, giving it her full attention. She was very calm and very focused. It seemed like an important moment in her life so far. It crossed my mind that this was the very first time she had seen the moon. How amazing to be witnessing all of these firsts. And somehow it is as though I am experiencing them for the first time too, by proxy, through Megan.
Happy Winter Solstice & Merry Christmas
3 years ago