Wednesday, July 26, 2017


So how many day lily buds burst into full bloom each day here, at the farmette? Can you guess? (Ed's guess, and mind you, he lives here is 46.)

I speculated yesterday whether it would be fun (or a burden) to count how many spent blooms I snip in my morning garden rounds. Today, impulsively, I began to count.

One, two...  (I begin with the long roadside bed...)

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Onto the driveway bed -- eighty-six, eighty-seven... Sorry, Ed, you're so off!

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Indeed, I snip off more more than two hundred spent flowers in just the one bed to the front of the porch...

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The Great Bed has the most diverse collection of flowers, but there are plenty of lilies there too...

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Okay, done. All beds neatened. Only ninety minutes to do the job on this day, so the tally must have been less than, say yesterday.

And still, it is high: 702 blooms showed off their lovely colors yesterday, all of them clipped into several bucket-loads of spent blooms today.  (That does not count the lilies by Ed's sheep shed because I don't snip the blooms there. He doesn't care and, well, honestly -- they do eventually fall off on their own.)

Breakfast, at last.

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With the deep satisfaction of having a well cared for garden. (Looking out from the porch...)

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By the way, have I complained about the weather today? No? Well I should: sticky, with the perpetual rain in the forecast, and perhaps not surprisingly, we see again an upsurge in bugs.

It's quite frustrating to be in the thick of summer and to feel the constraints of the season in this way. The rains, the bugs -- these are not just farmette issues. We, in Wisconsin, endure the long winters for the gifts that come with summer. When those gifts are moderated in this way, we feel a tad cheated.

Well, never mind. On good weather days, Snowdrop and I spend our afternoons at the pool. If today doesn't lend itself to this -- she'll adjust.

And in any case, I made an appointment (on the suggestion of her parents) for the little girl to get a haircut at Lyndsy's haircut place (which conveniently is sandwiched between Snowdrop's school and the coffee shop).

I myself very much like longer hair (actually on both girls and boys!), but Snowdrop isn't making it easy to keep it that way. For the most part, pony tails irritate her and predictably, her fine golden hair (often sprayed by sun lotion or bug spray) looks like it has been through a hard period of play by midday. (Here she is today, waiting for a snack at the coffee shop.)

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It's her third haircut at Lyndsy's and surprisingly, she remembers the routines well. If she was once even slightly apprehensive, not so today!

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And as before, I have to say, Lyndsy does her a great service by giving her a terrific bob.

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It's perfect for a delightfully active little girl!

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I want to reward the little one with a trip to the playground and as always, she is enthusiastic about the swings...

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But quite suddenly, we feel a light shower...

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... and eventually, more than a shower...

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We hurry back to the car and drive to the farmette, passing the beautiful field of harvested ...maybe  oats? -- with the cranes working their way majestically through the rows of fallen grain.

Snowdrop and I watch for a long while. How can you not love the image of these beautiful birds in the field of summer gold?

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At the farmhouse -- dance, Snowdrop! dance to the polka music you've grown so fond of!

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And later -- quiet play. Toy foods, beloved babies. You know what she's like.

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Once again my daughter and I had planned to attend the Wednesday summer concert on the square tonight and once again it was cancelled because of the weather. As I drive Snowdrop home, the rains pound against the windshield. I am impressed that the little girl is not scared. Is she getting used to it?

A summer day in Wisconsin: 702 spent blooms, fistfuls of mosquitoes, a day of blinding rain.

I wouldn't live anywhere else.