Monday, March 18, 2024

countdown

I'll say this much: I picked a good time to be going away (later this week): the cold snap has settled in for the long haul here, in south central Wisconsin. Or at least for the time that I will be away. It's all a matter of unplanned luck though. I did not pick this period to travel -- it's been in the books for almost a year now and it falls on school spring break. I'm traveling with the oldest grandchild, to a country that used to be a favorite destination for Ed and me, but one that is totally unfamiliar to the girl. 

We leave on Wednesday and neither of us is ready for that departure. I purchased books to get in some background reading. We've looked at none of them. Packing? Ha! 

So today, after the walk to the barn...

 



And after breakfast...

(Ed's on the floor tending to a cat's needs)


I stare at my open suitcase and make some decisions about what to take.

And then, after school...

 



And after an abbreviated time at the farmhouse, I take Snowdrop and Sparrow home, and I do the same for the girl: with her assistance, we pack up her bag for our trip. (What about Sparrow, you ask? Fact is, he's much less ready for such travel, nor does he particularly ask for it. His idea of adventure is very different from hers. Too, I am definitely not feeling strong enough to make such a complicated trip a success for two kids. Snowdrop was a light challenge even two years ago. By now, she is so good at managing on her own that I can have downtime each day and not worry about keeping her happy. Too, if things unravel, she can handle it.)

The packing is not without guesswork. The temps in our destinations have been bouncing around a lot and we can expect some cool evenings (and a mixture of warm and cool days). How do you prepare for that? The proper attitude, in my view, is that it doesn't really matter what you pack. Take something warm for those colder days and a good pair of shoes. All else is trim. You can re-wear or wash if you're a fanatic. Yes, there's always something that you'll wish you had brought along. More often though, you work with what you have and don't give it a second thought.

In other words, packing took no time at all.


In the evening I cook up my farro-cauliflower dish for supper. It's one that will have leftovers for Ed (in addition to yesterday's leftovers). He claims he doesn't need them, but I do know that he likes not to fuss with food in the evening. Reheating something in the microwave is about as simple as it gets.

We watch the next to last episodes of the least season of Loudermilk. That show has given us periods of loud laughter every evening!  In your everyday, if you can find just one wee source of merriment -- you are golden.

With chocolate. And love...

Sunday, March 17, 2024

trees and greens

I swear, Ed loves all trees. Indiscriminately. Why else would he refuse to cut off a limb of the honey locust that overhangs my flowerbed? Why else would he be so thrilled to put in pawpaws to expand our fruit and nut tree farm? Why else would we use this day to get ready for the arrival of the persimmons trees this week? And spruces and pines a couple of weeks down the road? Because the farmette needs more trees? I hardly thinks so.

It's cold today.  Significantly so. Just a couple of degrees above freezing. I have to stay happy with what blooms we have now, because we wont gain anything more in this weather.




Breakfast: reheated croissants and rolls. Perfection itself. 




And then comes the garden exploration. First project is one that is Ed's brainchild: to put up a new strawberry station in the new orchard. We are forever trying to figure out how best to grow strawberries, in small quantities. For the kids and for the occasional indulgence. They no longer grow by the sheep shed (too much shade!). They did not grow well in bins on the ground (every animals that passed by ate them just before their moment of ripeness). They did not grow well in baskets on the picnic table (ditto) and last year, they did not grow well in baskets on the tree stumps because we covered them with nets and they got so tangled in them that you couldn't weed or eat anything that popped out, which was very little anyway because it was such a dry summer. Snowdrop would pick the fraises des bois routinely at the rate of one berry per day. We let her have them all because, well, there were so few that it hardly mattered. This year, Ed thought that maybe we could hang the baskets between trees in the new orchard. Thus we don't have to cover them with nets. They'll be out of reach for the chickens, chipmunks, groundhogs, etc. I see a problem with this system: too far from the water source and too far for a daily check in, but he has convinced me that it's worth a try, so we're giving it a go.




Next project: update our tree planting map. Perhaps you'll remember that about five years ago we began tearing into the land back of the barn, planting a total of some 60 trees. Hickory, hazelnut, chestnut, walnut, plus a few maples. Because Ed had the idea that we could tap syrup from the maples when we're like about 90+ years old (when they reach maturity, which will happen after we've turned into stardust, but I admire his optimism). Since then, most of the hickories have said "nope, this terrain is inhospitable, good bye." We've replaced them with more walnuts, and last year -- Ed replaced and added pawpaws. And we've put in the pines and spruces at the northern border. Half of those failed. It was a bad year to be planting trees (away from a steady water source: Ed has to wheel buckets to the trees to water them, which, predictably, he did not do often enough during our drought year).

I should note that all these trees were babies when we planted them! I mean, really wee ones. So that even the ones that grew, did not show much of a spurt in our tough climate. They're still babies!

This year, Ed wants to move out the last of the maples and replace them with the persimmons. Plus we want to replace the failed firs. We bought bigger trees and we plan on watering them, even if it takes buckets upon buckets of water delivery all summer long. 

And so we set to work. We mark the trees that have to be moved out. We find places for the soon to arrive persimmons. We makes sure there are spots for the firs. 

Yes, it is good to be outside, good to be engaged in farmette planning with Ed, and terrible to be out on this very windy and freezing day! After our walk through the "new nut forest," we give up any thought of working outside. It's just too cold.

I turn my attention to dinner preparation. In the warm kitchen. Dumb outdoors...

And yes it's St. Patrick's Day. Yes, people like to go green on this day. I do none of that. We have a birthday in the family today, but not in Madison, so all I can do with that one is send happy thoughts and wishes via the magic connections that we now have available to us. And dinner has nothing green in it except for the grown-up salad. (are you surprised that none of the kids especially like salad?).

They come toward evening, but of course, it's light outside now. And that in itself is lovely!


(ah! I see a bit of green on them!)



(Ed's out locking up the hens, we dive in...)



A weekend behind us.  True, it ended with a bitter cold barreling in at us, but hey, it's still winter! Spring does not arrive until 10 pm our time on... Tuesday! Until then -- button up your coats, it really is cold outside.

with love...


Saturday, March 16, 2024

Saturday

Here's a fun fact: today is the last Zero day for me until... April 13th. That means that from tomorrow onwards (until the 13th) I have at least one grandchild and sometimes a whole bunch more in my schedule. This is significant for many reasons, but one especially stands out: taxes! I need to devote time to doing them because those free days aren't there for me between now and mid April. And so, when Ed asks (full of hope and curiosity) -- what do you have scheduled for today? I have to say, very reluctantly -- I have to do my mom's taxes.

Now, this isn't a huge deal. It's a pain, it's boring, it's a waste of time (why do we do this each year? everyone elsewhere on the planet has found an easier way, why do we torture ourselves with such stuff?), but in the scheme of things -- it's just something that you need to muddle through. Still, I'm a little glad that it's not a beautifully warm day out there, because then I would be doubly frustrated, bored, pained. (I'll do my own on April 13th. Something to look forward to, right?)

As I said, a meh day weather wise.




(the new ones still choose the tall firs as their daytime safe haven)



I drive out to get bakery items, looking for that little pick me up that transforms our breakfast table into a feast (at least in our view).




And then -- to work.

When I do the tax forms, I fall into an "I'm determined to get this dumb work done" mode and that provides enough motivation to see me through to the end. So, too, today I set as the goal finishing up my mom -- both federally and with the state of Wisconsin. Turns out the feds were easy. One hour and ten minutes. Done. 

Then comes our beloved state.

A new e-filing system is in place. (This is where I start repeating "I should have just done the paper forms and sent them in.") And it is clumsy. You think you're merely filling out basic questions to see if you can e-file and suddenly you find yourself typing in numbers that are part of the filing procedure. And doing worksheets. And calculating social security deductions and medical insurance deductions. Wait, did I just fill out a form? Or was it an initial request? What the hell just happened? And then suddenly I click on next page and I can no longer go back and I get an email telling me that I have just filed a return. Really?  Where is it? How come I'm not seeing a copy? Where are the calculations? And where is my damn personal copy to print out and treasure and sleep with, tucked under my pillow for safekeeping?

I should have done the paper forms and sent them in!

The point is, the new system leaves you feeling incomplete. You dont know if you've filed (and if I did file, how come no one asked me to pay the $100 that she owes?). You dont know anything! Now, I am no tax accounting expert, but I've filled out these damn forms for 52 years of my life (and for a bunch of years for my mom), and I am an attorney and thus not terrified of legal forms, and if I dont understand what just happened here, then I can assure the Wisconsin Dept of Revenue that there will be others equally or even more confused.

 

So I need to go to my happy place. Without Ed, because he, wisely, waited until I tested the tax waters. Besides, he has many Zero days to plunge into the tax inferno between now and April 15th. 

It's very late in the afternoon before I head out, because the Wisconsin whatever it is that I did, added a few more hours to my ticking tax clock for the day. 

And the wind perked up, and it was cold. But so very beautiful!




These two kept me company.



 

 

Oh, and I should report on what's blooming out here, on farmette lands: the first Syberian Squill is emerging out front,  under the maples...


 

 

And I think we can officially call tomorrow the beginning of our daffodil season. I mean, this is almost open, no?




 

Evening quiet. Everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody loves Saturday night...





Friday, March 15, 2024

Friday

We all know who the "happy people" in our lives are. The one who invariably make us content, who force smiles onto our faces when we're in their presence. Ocean readers certainly can guess mine: kids, grandkids, Ed. My close to the heart friends. Easy peasy. But how about happy places? Spots where you can count on finding peace, tranquility, warmth, contentment. Do you have one or two? Or more? 

I was thinking about these places today: I return to them often because they provide comfort and joy routinely. I'd have to be pretty down in the dumps not to think to myself -- it feels so good to be here!

Happy places. At the farmhouse, there are a handful: in the summer -- the porch. At all other times -- the kitchen table. In the evenings -- the couch. (I know! It takes so little!) Elsewhere? Our local park, and especially along the standard loop we do -- through the prairie and up the hill. Farther afield -- my hotel room at Le Baume in Paris. A table at lunchtime at Cafe Varenne. I suppose any well tended garden, but now I'm stretching to the probable, rather than the surefire hits.

There is magic in those happy places. They cause you to push aside the fretting, the yowling thoughts, the dreadful images from, say, a newscast earlier on. They always remind me -- yes, but there's also this to life...

Yesterday, Anne Lamott wrote another piece in the Washington Post about aging. (She is nearly exactly my age.) She wrote about routinely taking walks along a creek with a friend whom she has known since childhood. One line stuck in my head, one she quoted from another source -- when you're really pounded from all sides and you wonder -- what's the point? Where's the joy? This person thought for a while and answered -- well, there's always the morning.

Indeed! There's the morning where you wake up to a new day. And there's the porch and the bench in our courtyard (don't let me forget the bench!). And there's our local park, to which we return again and again, Ed and I, and each time we finish our loop I say, so very sincerely -- that was just beautiful!


(today's walk)


It's a sunny day. Cool, but who cares! That's spring out there!




The hens are happy once again. The crocuses are exploding with their brilliance. 

 


 

 


 

 

(the daffodils? almost!)


 

 

Ed and I start our morning with breakfast, still in the kitchen. It will be another month before we dare venture out on the porch.




And we go out for our walk. In the park. Content.

 

In the afternoon, the kids are here. 




As we start in on the next volume of the Greenhouse ghostly-mystery series (I wanted to postpone, but she begged!), Snowdrop throws a glance at my side table, where I keep my KenKen math book. Gaga! I just did those puzzles in school today! Aren't they fun? (For those who did not read this on Ocean -- KenKen logic puzzles appear daily in the NYTimes and they come highly recommended for those who don't want to slip into math nothingness as they get older!)

I am so glad that I am keeping up with my math abilities.

So ends the week. Actually, extremely well for me. Remember the bike ride Ed and I took on Monday to Paoli? Remember my words of wisdom to you on Tuesday? (Never do medical testing the day after you've done an even moderately strenuous activity...) Well now. I had a week of alarm bells going off as those high in the medical profession studied my results. Finally, the most wise and sensible of them all (my own doc) said -- repeat the test when her muscles have recovered after the ride. I did. Alarm bells were quickly silenced.


And now for my happy space. The couch. With Ed's toes digging into me, because he prefers a reclining position. 

With love.


Thursday, March 14, 2024

Thursday

Of the three, which would you choose for your (more or less) daily routine: ballet, yoga, or tai chi? 

So, now that you've chosen one, fess up! Do you do it? Why not?

I'd been a yoga fan for a long time. There's just no doubt about it -- it's good for maintaining flexibility. But with a knee that no longer bends at more than a right angle, it's a struggle to get motivated. I mean, if you can't do a child's pose, then where's the fun? 

I tried ballet this fall and I liked it! But it felt meditative with a tiny bit of flexibility built into it, rather than being physically challenging. I'm sure that those who practice ballet at a more advanced level will roll their eyes at my assessment, but for a beginner, the plies and frappes and tendus are only a very mild workout. I still go back to it, but more to achieve some semblance of calm rather than muscle strength. 

So now comes the third horse that's about to be unleashed out of the starting gate: tai chi. If yoga is for flexibility, they say that tai chi is for strength, especially cardiovascular strength. Sounds like something everyone could use, no?

As usual, I dig into the YouTube material first. Ah! No special clothes required! That's good! I can fail and there will be no financial investment. But, as I watch the video, I wonder -- can you really do this on your own? I've watched so many ballet classes in my life (my daughter's my grandkids') that I sort of know the drill there. Yoga? I've taken enough classes to keep me more or less at some stable place of capability. But tai chi? I know next to nothing about it! How do I even pick a good video? 

I watch a few. There's still knee activity, but perhaps I can adjust. Or, maybe you have some good tips on where to begin? Or perhaps you want to steer me away from tai chi in favor of... whatever! Drop me a note. I'm on the lookout for some added movement!


Meanwhile we have ourselves a quiet, rainy day.




The hens look out, turn around, stay in the barn. Crocuses fold up their flower heads and wait for it to pass. 




Oatmeal for breakfast. I mean, it's only right for a day like this!




And then I do my ballet, watch Tai Chi videos and take out my KenKen math puzzles (recommended by someone with exceptional math abilities!). I chose Volume 3, because it's called Stressless KenKen puzzles, with the subtitle: "Mind Stimulating Logic Puzzles That Make You Smarter." Yeah! Two down, 198 to go.


I pick up very wet kids in the afternoon. 

 

 

(a girl who loves rain...)


 

 

They are full of talk about leprechauns. These Irish mythical creatures may have had some standing in Ireland when my kids were growing up, but luckily, they did not make it to the homes of south-central Wisconsin families. In other words, I didn't have to deal with them on St. Patrick's Day. Since my girls have some Irish blood in them (not from me!), I made it an annual thing to dance a jig with them on March 17th. When they were older, they pulled out something green to wear. That's it. Not so this generation of American kids! They want to create leprechaun traps. They want to imagine that this green clad little fellow will come to their home at night. So I nod and smile and wish their parents luck! Cleaning up after a leprechaun who messes up your house while you sleep on the eve of St Patrick's Day. Fun!


(their five minute fascination with the "Cat Game")


 

 

 



In the evening, I reheat soup at the farmhouse for Ed, for me. So perfect for this wet day! Veggies, swimming in a broth, with a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. And a chocolate for dessert. March has been kind to us. We can certainly stand to put up with some cooler, wet days. For a while! 

with love...

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Wednesday

One more "seize the day" moment. Warm, partly cloudy, lovely. Yesterday, we hit a record high of 70F (21C). Today, we're just a few degrees less than that. (Tomorrow we return to what is properly ours in March: cool, wet, cool, dry, cool wet and so on.) Ed thinks we should aim big today, but I resist anything that has us rushing like kids chasing an ice cream truck. Better to go local, moving gently from one thing to the next. Rushing belongs to those under 70!

The hens are in a good routine. All are back to treating the coop as a home base. 




And the older girls are laying again. Weirdly, one lays huge monster eggs, the other -- small and rather oblong. Same breed, same age, same diet. Different... what? Temperament? We have no idea. The younger foursome spend the day moving between barn and the nearby fir trees. For all that crazy, wild run in every direction on their first free day here, they now seem completely disinterested in venturing out beyond this tiny stretch of land. That's just fine with me. Hiding under the firs is a great way to protect yourself from hawks. 

Walk back from barn: the crocuses! Oh, the crocuses! 

 


 

 


 

 

It's been a stellar year for them. It could be that I planted a good batch of bulbs at the right depth, but honestly, I think it's just the luck of the weather. Crocuses come out early. They'll survive the cold, but their blooms are fragile. We've had no snow, no big storms and rainfalls to topple these guys. Best crocus year ever!




I have more appointments, more errands for this morning. Indeed, I decide that I can lump everything into one neat stack and do it even before breakfast. Including the week's grocery shopping! The reward? I have fresh (grocery store) flowers for the table for our morning meal.




And now for out light walk in the local park.




We choose the longer trail through the woods, which promises a ton of birdsong! Robins, song sparrows, chickadees. Heavenly!




And that's how you quickly move from morning til school pick up time.

 

The kids never play outside during the school year. (They do at home, with neighborhood friends, but not at the farmette.) Still, on great weather days, there's that temptation to do at least a quick run in a field...







Before hurrying inside. 

 

 

 

For the food. And the book. (We're currently reading Greenglass House -- a mystery, a spooky story, with bits of the unreal sprinkled throughout. Even Sparrow, who cannot possibly understand the plot's twists and turns, kept repeating -- this is such a good book!)

 

(All the cats stay outside when the kids come. Too much energy in the house!)


 

 

Evening. A light rain. More to come. 

Soup's on! Feet up. Exhale...


Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Tuesday

Still warm, still spring-like, still beautiful out there. Uff! The pressure to seize the day is on!

 

 

 

But of course, life throws its own agenda. Chickens, cats, appointments, errands. A trip to the bakery. A morning of all the above.

And yet, how special it is to end up at the tail end of it all, at the breakfast table, with croissants and cinnamon rolls to boot, enjoying the calm of a stunning spring-like day.

 


 

 

We do go out for a walk in our local park. Nothing unusual, nothing too long. The sun is hazy, but the breezes (and there are breezes) are soothing and absolutely delightful, especially since we are not pedaling against their force! Walking into a stiff wind merely pushes the hair out of your face.




More errands, more quick runs, stops, drop offs. Tons of email messages. More appointments to make. Phew! [Here's a tip for you: never, ever schedule a routine CK total blood screening after you've just spent the day biking to and from Paoli. Why? You may walk away convinced that you have a muscle wasting autoimmune disease. At the very least, you'll be told -- let's do some more tests. Far easier to just sit on your butt on the day before. You'll thank me for it!]

And now finally the kids.

On this most splendid day, their moods match the moment.

(I have never said no to a grandchild who wants to pick "just one" flower...)



(never...)


Both kids (and too, their elementary school cousin in Chicago) are having stellar runs this school year. Will it always be thus? One can hope. But it's greatly wonderful to hear from teachers that these kids are okay! And kind. Good people, learning to exist in this complicated world of ours.

Dinner? Eggs! For sure eggs. The hens are starting to produce very very large eggs. Delicious and deliciously abundant. Throw in some CSA spinach, some mushrooms, maybe a bit of garlic, cheese, tomatoes, and you've got yourself a farmhouse supper. With a side salad. And with love...



Monday, March 11, 2024

Monday

So, you think you've got troubles? How would you like to be a living being with radiant feathers, virtually announcing to all who want to eat you that you are there, available for consumption? Or, how would you like to be a black and white cat (aka Pancake), who has to fight to get close to a food force (us)? So that you show up for your meal not all neat and pretty, but with gashes to your face and blood dripping into the dish? 

We live in the country and we see plenty of this -- the fighting spirit that keeps animals alive, mostly, but not always. A cold day for you means you have to reach for an extra scarf as you walk to the bus stop or your car. A cold day for Pancake means that there's little escape from it. You just have to be cold. 

Spring is the season of birth, which means that predators are especially aggressive as they strive to feed their new families. I get it. It's the way life continues on this planet. Every nature film we watch is filled with the challenge and horror of survival (or not). Still, as the hawks once again circle overhead, and our new young chickens display their innocence as they strut into the open field (so visible!), I have to say, it can be a very scary time for so many animals! 

At the same time, spring is most assuredly a time of joy. In my walk to the barn, I hear the song of house sparrows, American robins, blue jays, European starlings, and northern cardinals. Red-winged blackbird, black-capped chickadee. All that, on one morning walk!

(out they go, the three youngest -- always on the run!)



(ever expanding patches of flowering crocuses, as well as the beginning of Lenten Rose blooms)






Breakfast is late. Maybe it's the time gallop, maybe it's a Zoom call with my Polish pal, maybe it's that Ed is feeling sleepy this morning. No matter. Eventually, we eat.




Today turns out to be a Zero day. Meaning -- no grandchild duty. Their school is closed, their parents have taken charge. Add to that the most beautiful weather day yet -- mostly sunny, with a high of 63F (17C). I propose we seize the day and do a bike ride. A longer one, to Paoli. Google tells me that's an hour and five minutes on the bike trails. We're pretty good to keeping close to Google estimates. 

However...

The wind. Oh, the wind!

The ride is lovely, but even on my electric bike, it is brutally tough -- into the wind! We go over the estimate by a full ten minutes, panting!

 


 

 

(Once there, we pause at Seven Acres Creamery for a pick-me-up.)



On the upside, the ride back has the wind on our backs. We cut the estimate by three minutes! Even with the pauses to, say, take a photo or two.




The leap into longer days does mess with your view of the world. You suddenly feel that much closer to all that's starting to grow outside. Winter weather may come screaming back at you (last year, we had a heavy snowfall in April), but still, it's a passing event. Underneath it all, there is new life. There is stuff that thrills you. A plateful, no, a world full of great loveliness to discover, in due time.