Saturday, June 06, 2015

the twists and turns of a Saturday

When I think about how many breakfasts Ed and I have managed not to eat together (when I'm not traveling), the answer surprises me: it's zero. Even when I still worked and had to be up before dawn to prepare classes, I'd wait for my cup of coffee until the morning meal. If Ed had been putzing on his machining project and feeding a sudden appetite late at night, he'd cut back on morning foods (just fruit today, he'd say). But it would still be a breakfast, at a table, me with my granola or oatmeal, Ed with his bowl of fruit.

But today, that breakfast became a problem. Ed had forgotten an event scheduled for 9 that he wanted to attend. I was just putting out plates on the porch when he rushed in to tell me that he was already late. No time for a meal.

I would have waited, but I myself had a date with my daughter and Snowdrop -- market time! -- and so I proceeded to take a photo of a place set for once just for one -- me. And of course, that's when I hear the sound of his motorbike and I see Ed whiz into the photo, returning from his meeting...

farmette-11.jpg time to eat with me after all.


So -- zero. Somehow, without much effort, we have never missed that morning meal together.

Alright -- let's talk flowers. This time, you get the peonies again, but these guys really are special since they give depth and color to the lush garden by the farmhouse when little else is blooming. They look especially sublime in the early morning light.


And now here's another curious thing about today: when I arrive at Snowdrop's home, I find her ready and waiting for the stroller walk downtown (about 40 minutes each way, plus however long it takes to walk around the market square on this most crowded market day ever!).

I'm waiting patiently, grandma!

And because it's early for her and she is rested, fed and excited to begin her day, I bend down to take the famous serious faced stroller photo and instead, I get this (she's returning her mom's smile):


The walk is lovely, the market is pulsating with people and produce -- and here's something new this week:

strawberries! already?!

It is grand to be at the market in these early weeks of the growing season -- each new food is a wonderful surprise.

After, I say goodbye to Snowdrop and her mom back at their home...


...with a wave and a see you later, old chum! -- and I will see her later, as she will be spending the evening at the farmhouse while the young couple goes out.

At the farmette Ed asks which of the many farmette jobs I'd like to get to this afternoon. Perhaps foolishly, I suggest we weed and chip the tomato field. It needs both. Badly. We do have a lot of tomatoes -- it's hot and tedious work. But, in a couple of hours we're done!

(the field goes on forever...)

I call it now the tomato field (rather than a veggie field) because a horrible thing happened overnight -- all the peas and beans were completely devoured by some animal. Honestly, I think we should give up on growing things that sprout tender young shoots. There are too many interested parties lurking at the sidelines, waiting for the most perfect moment to begin their feast.

I cannot easily bend and dig, so I sit and dig and move across the tomato field on my seat. My back is sending signals that perhaps I should not overdo. So I do not overdo.

Returning to the farmette courtyard, I note that the cheepers are waiting for us under the willow.


The hens like our company. Oreo? He and I have another one of our usual skirmishes, only this time he's not deterred by my water gun. He's soaked solid, but he wont go away and again Ed has to lock him up.

Anyone wanting to take in a lame rooster who hates everyone except for Ed?!

Once Oreo is behind his fence, the farmette grows blissfully quiet again. I take the time to admire each new flower...


... a speck here, a cluster there -- the bed is beginning to show off its true colors.


And now it's time for supper preparation. From the kitchen, the views at this time of the year are great in all directions. I always favor the front beds. Let me give a grateful nod to the flowers at the side.


And what's cooking at the farmette today? Pizza! Ed suggested that I make the NYTimes crust and that's just fine, since it's easy and delicious. Add to it mushrooms, onions, garlic, basil -- over a marinara sauce with two cheeses on top -- what's there not to like?!


Snowdrop comes over and we have a playful set of hours. Because it's a beautiful evening, we spend a good bit of time outside.


There really isn't a more beautiful sight for me than that of a little Snowdrop luxuriating in the grass...


Or reaching for the dancing leaves of the birch...


I'll leave you with that last photo. An evening doesn't get much better than moments spent watching a little one clutch birch leaves. Somewhere in that wee head there must now be an association between what's in the hand and what grows out there, on the farmette lands.



  1. Yippee! Ed saves the day, and breakfast! Good job, Ed! :D

    Sorry to hear about the loss of your peas and beans. Hope the tomatoes survive. Over here, we appear to have a squirrel that likes to steal our cherry tomatoes. They take a green one here and there and leave the tooth-marked green on the deck. But once the tomatoes start to ripen we find bits of fruit here and there on the grass below the deck, evidence that someone is enjoying them.

    Until last year, I never would have thought that a squirrel would be interested in tomatoes.

    1. Similar problem here, but I think it's chipmunks that go for the tomatoes. This year I'm putting them on the porch (potted) in hopes the chipmunks/squirrels won't be so bold.

      Just next summer, Snowdrop will be toddling around, picking her own tomatoes!


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