competing interests

Ed! Did you see that? They carried the torch on a zip line over the River Seine!

Um, no. I missed it. Ed makes a point of not watching the Olympics and especially the ceremonies leading up to the games.

Normally, I'm neutral about the opening stuff. One big show, lots of noise. I used to watch to see what the Polish team wore, now I think everyone is dressed to look like school children in a boarding school. Nonetheless, these opening ceremonies are in Paris! Out there, along the banks of the River Seine -- they showcases the city in a crazy beautiful way and I wish I could just watch this all day. But I can't.

Fact is, it's a stunning day, a really beautiful day out here in south central Wisconsin. I'm out snipping lilies (402 today, so holding steady for a while at this lower level) early, because I want to get that job done by the time the guys come at 9 to scare away the mosquitoes. There are many reasons for doing the lily cleanup before rather than after. Trust me, it's better this way. And the garden! Like Paris, it's best when the light is just so. Morning light is often just so.

Breakfast? I bike to Tati Cafe to pick up these:

I love this morning ride -- not long, to be sure, but still so satisfying on a sunny and still cool morning.

The day, each summer day, has its official beginning, my own opening ceremony, on the porch (I have this perennial sweet pea vine that blooms and blooms despite finishing the season in the shade!).

And then I go out and do something that is a real no-no, but I don't care. Breaking rules now and then is allowed when you're 71. (What's my vice? Well, there are many, but this one is throwback to the past: sitting out in the sun and letting those warm rays work their feel-good magic.)

If I would live by the wise saying that I should always listen to my body, then I'd be out there daily, facing the sun, enjoying its warmth, drifting in my thoughts, letting myself go limp as tension flows out and good vibes soak me from top to bottom. My body is darn happy in sunshine. Unfortunately, medicine has challenged my body on this one (and on wine too, damn it!) and so I have to actually ignore what feels good (a nice sun soak and evening wine -- two glasses used to feel soooo perfect!) and go with the science. Except on days like this one. Because, like I said, at 71, you have to sometimes let loose!

(Looking out at my flowers, from a sunny position on the red chair)

And then I get to work. I am officially signing on to the deportation of all illegals: meaning I want to remove all weeds and invasives that have crept into my flower fields and which I've ignored because of the heat, the bugs, the preoccupation with lilies, with life itself. But today, I get to work. The mosquitoes are momentarily gone. There's no better day for doing this then right now. (I am not in favor of other deportations, in case you're wondering. Anyone who has worked in a restaurant kitchen in this country knows better than to suggest something so totally nutty and cruel.)

And I work hard.

Really hard.

Buckets and buckets of weeds, pulled ruthlessly from the fields closest to the courtyard. I cannot do all of them. The terrain is too vast, and haven't the strength to put in a ten hour work day. Leave it to the next generation, of, say, nearly 60 year olds!

 

Besides, I have to pick up the kids.

Tired bunch. But soon made happy by snacks and farmhouse books and play. 

 

 

 

And a glimpse at the Eiffel Tower on TV! I'm THAT kind of a grandmother! 

Evening: I warned Ed. I want to watch a replay of the Olympic moments.  I mean, yes, I know he and I are in the middle of a film noir series on Netflix. Ripley. It's dark and awful but for some reason we're hooked on it. How about an episode of Ripley followed by boats of people waving flags in the rain in Paris?

A rerun of my photo from late June...

With love...

 

it's a beautiful day

All my grandkids know the song I sing when I am with them and happy. It's called "It's a Beautiful Day" and I made it up years ago, when I wheeled around the first babe that came along, coming close to now ten years ago. The focus of the song is on them and I do stand behind the sentiment in the lyrics. A confirmation of what you already know -- that they are a source of joy and wonderment. But it is also true that they are not the only source of joy and wonderment. There are days that are just plain beautiful and full of wonderment, no matter who is around. 

Today is one such day.

Sunny and mildly warm. Without the humidity. (And tomorrow will be even better, because we are going to do one more spray of the "natural" (haha) stuff, to ward off the latest army of mosquitoes.) Life is sooo good! Optimistic thoughts abound!

And I'm down to 374 snipped lilies this morning. It is, frankly, a relief to be declining in numbers. Even if the lilies may be calming down, the phlox, is really exploding. There's plenty of color in the garden. Here, take a look:

(the path leading to the farmhouse door...)

I bike over to Tati's coffee shop and bring home pain au chocolat for breakfast. Supreme contentment!

Not done with biking yet: Ed and I pedal over to Stoneman's Farm for the corn. 

More outdoor stuff: we (finally!) pick some of the garlic. This is a big deal for me because Ed planted too much and in my opinion, it overwhelmed the courtyard, sometimes blocking the lily field just behind. Of course, the lily field is almost done for the year, but still, it's good to reclaim the courtyard again. Admittedly, the garlic looks fabulous. We're losing so much to animals and birds in the veggie field and it's nice to know that there is one thing no animal out there will pull out and devour. Yay garlic.

In the afternoon I pick up just Snowdrop today. 

Toward the end of her visit, she asks to go to the local Farmers Market. I'm not sure why she likes it so much, but we're happy to take her along. (Oh! Maybe it has to do with the cherry pie and cheese curds! She always talks us into getting both.)

Home then. Her home. Where I check in with her mom for a few minutes out on the deck, before turning around to do a very late stop and shop at the grocery store.

Yes, it's a packed day. Just half of the activities and events would have felt like it's one hell of a busy day. 

And yet -- all that sunshine -- on the bike ride, picking garlic, chatting on the deck -- it felt so perfect. Not busy at all, just very very perfect.

(evening at the farmette)

 

 

with love...

 

 

a good day to sit back

Wet, gray, too cool for a July morning. No matter: sweatshirt on, bucket in hand. I snip lilies.

The number is going down. Yay. 401 today. By the end of the month, I no longer will feel compelled to clean the beds every single morning: the lily heads can fall off, slowly. Every once in a while I'll help them, but mostly, I'll be done. April, May, June, July. Months of work. The rest of the summer? Well, there's a lot more to summer than just snipping lilies and pulling weeds!

Today's garden:

 

 

(today's froggie)

(today's glads)

Today's breakfast:

And then I settle in to do some reading. I'll share one article, from the NYTimes. This one. Seemingly about the Olympic games in Paris (they begin this Friday), it really caught me by surprise (though perhaps it shouldn't have, as it was written by the paper's Paris Bureau Chief): it speaks of a Paris that I know and love. It describes a city in the way that I would describe it. I have been asked more often than I can count -- why do I always go to Paris? What's the draw for these repeat visits, most of them alone? Typically I brush off the question with some platitudes and rehearsed lines, finding it too hard to explain in just two or three sentences. As I read the NYT article this morning, I smiled: he said it for me! This is why!

And then I go back into the flowers fields. A friend stopped by and wanted a tour. And she was properly enthralled and I thought -- maybe I dont do this just for myself. Maybe it really is worth the effort. Maybe I can keep on doing this, correcting it as I go along.

(I show her my secret path spot. I think it gives the best view of many fields at once! I photograph it frequently, though I can never get its full glory into one shot.)

And now it's time to pick up Sparrow (his sister has another commitment this afternoon).

Sparrow is not a boy who would be raring to go someplace after school. At the same time, he often looks to his older sister to set the tone for an afternoon at the farmhouse. In thinking about what special activity I may offer him, in the end I defaulted to his same favorites: building, story telling, art. I'd have added number stories (numbers thrill him, they really do), but in the end I let that one slide, substituting it with a trip to the ice cream store. I mean, if you want to make the little guy really happy, vanilla ice cream in a waffle cone and a box of dominoes is the way to go!

Add to it permission to pick flowers. All the grandkids love to pick flowers for reasons that are unclear to me. It's not that they want to put them in a vase to admire once inside. They just like to pick them.

Evening: Ed bikes, I collect my thoughts. It's good to do that, particularly when you have a string of packed days. It's too easy to just rush into your next project and the one after. Maybe just a few minute pause to think through the best moments. There are so many!  Review, smile, then move on to what's ahead. 

with love...

wet again??

Dark skies, pounding rain, rumbling thunder. I wake up to another storm system barreling through south central Wisconsin.

Wait, wasn't this supposed to be my day of the Great Garden Clean Up? Don't I have three days worth of spent lilies to clip?

It's a wet, wet morning. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We eat breakfast in the kitchen.

Eventually the storm system moves on. There's even a ray of sunshine coming through. For a minute, not more than that. So shouldn't I go out and work the flower fields?

Yes I should. 

Not only do I snip away at hundreds of mushy and wet lily heads, but, too, I cut off stems from lilies that have cycled through all the season's blooms. 

It's a huge, wet, project, filling many buckets and many hours of the morning.

(looking good now)

 

 

 

 

And I dont sit down to recover either. Once done, I snip away at Ed's hair (once he decides it's too long, I have to hack away at it) and then move on to get the kids: pick up at school, bring them to the farmhouse.

Well, not straight away. They twist my arm to stop for ice cream.

Then home. Well, their farmette home.

I tell them that tomorrow marks the midpoint of their vacation. They're not yet at the point that they miss school. That doesn't come until you head out to get new school supplies. For some reason, getting fresh folders and pencils and markers really leaves you breathlessly eager to put them to good use again. For now, vacation rules! 

For me as well. I never pick up kids now who are tired, disappointed, or overwhelmed by the social let alone academic demands of the day. They're just plain happy. (And hungry!) To five and a half more weeks of happy.

with so much love...