Rose loves her walks, turning periodically and rushing back to me, sniffing me, licking my hand and taking off again. Sometimes I think she loves walking with me more than herding sheep. She is very purposeful, going in ahead, scanning the woods, sticking her nose in the snow, checking every scent, coming back to check on me. We are walking to Christmas Eve. Got all the food for Xmas Day brunch, my daughter and her boyfriend heading to the farm (we will have to acclimate Frieda and Pearl, as both believe they are running the world and in charge of all movement). Tomorrow we go to Maria’s mom’s house to exchange presents, and I hope to stop by the Rouse farm in the morning.

I got Michelle a crockpot (ssssh!) for Christmas, and I know she will use it, once she gets past the digital controls. When I asked if I could come by and photograph the farm and milking on Christmas morning, Ed said “well, it looks like milking any other morning.” This, I thought, is why I’m a photographer and he is a farmer. He’s literal. I haven’t seen the Rouse’s for a week or so, and I miss them.

I am looking forward to Christmas. My first as Maria’s husband. That in itself is special. We will be walking in the morning.