fragrance

If you take on rose growing and you start reading all the descriptions that are offered on a particular variety's fragrance, your head swims. It's like reading about wine notes on your palate, or more recently -- of dark chocolate. I bought many a dark chocolate bar in Paris based solely on the description of what I would taste once a small morsel would dissolve in my mouth. Last night I broke into one of those bars and I'd forgotten what I was supposed to be tasting, so in the end it tasted like... chocolate. Good chocolate, but still, chocolate. 

With rose fragrances I'm in a whole new to me ball game. I'm learning to differentiate between honey myrrh (Bathsheba Rose), lemon, apple and raspberry (Earth Angel Rose), notes of tropical fruit (Bolero Rose), fruity spice (Moonlight in Paris Rose), almond blossom, cucumber and lemon zest (Desdemona Rose), and so on. I find myself avoiding the buying of rose plants with modest fragrance ratings, even though I have so many roses that if only half gave out any fragrance at all, it would be one big perfume factory out there. I do have to wonder if it will be like chocolate: maybe they will all just have the fragrance of... roses?

Morning. Millie slept in a little longer and had no accident. I was happy with that until it was breakfast time and she refused to eat any of her beef meal. She has been less enthusiastic about her meals lately and I'm wondering if it's her tummy, her age, or if the meals that I give her are simply boring. 

She was good company for my own breakfast (once she moved to make room for me...)

She doesn't spend the entire time snuggled by my feet, but she always gives me a handful of minutes like that and I am intensely grateful. I cannot imagine my days here without a Millie looking into my eyes, trying to read where I am at, what I have in store for her, which way the world is heading.

I take her to doggie daycare on an empty stomach. I tried, I really tried and spent a couple of hours coaxing and cajoling -- she refused to eat. Still, she was otherwise her usual bouncy self so off we went. She is sleeping over at Julie's tonight because Ed and I have a date -- our annual one, it seems! -- and I thought she'd like it better at Julie's than in a crate for several hours in the evening. 

From Happy Dogz, I went to the big box Kohl's store, where I had to take an Amazon return, and of course, the clerk there did a little mini commercial for me on their Sephora products (there is a Sephora within the store). I assured him that I am not a Sephora person, but he gave me a 10% coupon nonetheless and I wandered over to look at the rows of cosmetics (forget it), creams (I'm well stocked) and such, to see if there is anything that I would even consider buying. And in poking around, I came to the shelves of perfumes. I love a good cologne, but the reality is that I never use it. I often take a bottle with me to Europe and if I remember, I spritz it on before a dinner out, but this is such a rare event that my two or three bottles of the stuff are still mostly full. Nonetheless, I saw that they had a whole shelf of Jo Malone perfumes (a brand that I like because at least in name they smell fresh and honest). Maybe I can find a rose scent just to wear for the day while I dig around in my rose bed? 

Again, the name and by implication fragrance of each bottle befuddled me. There is one called Peony and Blush Suede. As I recall, most peonies don't have that much of a fragrance. I read a further description of this particular bottle: This is a voluptuous and flirty fragrance, full of blooming peonies and opulent notes of jasmine, rose, and gillyflower. A juicy bite of red apple brightens the scent with a fruity twist. Accents of honey unfold into a sensual base of soft, blush suede. At once charming, fun, and totally seductive. My God! All that in one bottle? No wonder it's so expensive. And another one, called Bergamot and Sea Salt. Does sea salt smell? I sampled that one! Heavenly indeed, but I would never have guessed that it carried any notes of sea salt to my nostrils.

The world of fragrance is at once mysterious and intoxicating and alluring. I walked away without using my 10%, but I did douse myself with Bergamot & Sea Salt on one side and English Pear & Sweat Pea on the other. That last one sounds so very perfect, but maybe it's the imagery that is messing with my senses, because the scent itself is one of... lovely perfume.

The day is sunny again and I work in the garden. Planting bulbs of course (I only have 24 left for tomorrow!). Digging a hole for another rose,  moving a daylily and a false sunflower. Taking stock. 

 

And in the evening I am out for dinner with Ed at Sardine and it is wonderful. We sit as we have sat at so many restaurants -- squeezed onto a bench together at a table that should have us facing each other. He orders his favorite, I order mine, and I break with my wine-free existence and order a bubbly rose from Alsace and the whole evening is just pure pleasure. They gift us a sorbet for our anniversary and I have to smile at the red cross on Ed's shirt, and the red sorbet -- a dramatic burst of color for two people who lead very undramatic lives. But good lives. Happy to be close, happy to be intensely busy in our own peculiar ways, just happy to be as we are right now.

 

 

 

with so much love... 

simplicity itself

At the end of the day I still will have 85 more bulbs to plant. Some leftover daffodils, but mostly tulips, which I regret because tulip blooms are nice but the decomposing plant afterwards is a mess and if you want a repeat bloom (I at least had the smarts to get repeat bloomers), you have to leave it alone until it looks totally dead. None of bulb planting is enjoyable, but, I am making progress, I planted today's batch with Millie looking on, so at least I had company. But you'd think the last thing I would want to think about would be the acquisition of more bulbs, and yet, this is what I did today: I looked through all the amaryllis bulbs out there and decided on the three (just three!) that would be my companions indoors this winter. I dont much care for the leaves that you have after the flower is long gone for the year, but I'll worry about that in spring. If they get too unruly, I'll give up on a rebloom and compost them. 

So, is the day all about bulbs? Well not really, but content wise -- they're a substantial chunk of it. The rest of my time is spent on the lovely rituals that Millie and I have developed on days that we have together, at Steffi's House.

Breakfast, of course. At sunrise.

With Millie.

 

 

Then she plays in her yard and I plant 18 bulbs (just outside the fenced area; no way am I going to put anything that's toxic anywhere near her free space).

At lunch time I call Ed and ask if he'd like to meet up with us at Tati's. He does. I brush Millie thoroughly before our outing. She looks so fine! Maybe a hat for her cafe moment?  Pup cup time!

 

 

 

We are a handsome trio!

 

 

 

Well, Millie is the show stopper. People actually ask to take pictures of her. She just smiles. 

 

 

Ed and I discuss his upcoming sailing trip. The pros and cons of it. He'll likely go and I'll switch to taking care of the farmhouse and animals for a while. The captain of this particular sail (on the Atlantic again) is a former Navy guy and a submarine commander so I have few worries that they wont be able to manage, even in big storms. 

In the afternoon, I zoom while Millie naps.

And then we have visitors! A neighbor stops by with her dog (who is perhaps the only dog around here who has shown interest in my wonderful pup). While the dogs have a fine romp around the house, the neighbor asks me if I would join their newly formed Mahjong group. She asks this on a night that I already neglected to go to the neighborhood book club meeting, which only goes to show how difficult it is for me to leave the house in the evening. Oh, but it would be during the day -- she says. I hesitate. Winter is long. But Mahjong? Isn't that a game for old retired ladies? I suppose I should face up to my own demographic! 

I tell her that once a week is too much for me. She persists. Could I join them once a month? Even my protest that I have never played Mhjong, don't know how to play Mahjong, am not much of a game person -- none of this puts her off. If I could learn, you can learn -- were her parting words. Perhaps. AI tells me it takes about an hour to figure out the rules. But it takes 1-2 months to be decently good at it and that's not if you play only once a month. And the problem is -- I hate being bad at something! Why don't I play chess with my grandson? Because I am not good at it. Why don't I play tennis with Ed? Same! Still, someone appears to have the stuff needed for the game and I know I should make an effort to extend my reach beyond just my garden. I offer a "maybe," but as she leaves, I return to studying rose websites and read the latest comments of rosarians in various rose groups. 

And I wonder -- why am I not shy about growing roses? Surely three months ago, even two months ago, I was not good at it, and yet... I suppose the answer is that I did not now how much I did not know. I assumed incorrectly that my gardening experiences would translate into good rose growing. (They do and they don't.) And I assumed incorrectly that my dog ownerships of the past would prepare me for working with big rescue dogs. And I assumed when I joined the employ of a restaurant as a line cook (at L'Etoile) that my knowledge of food prep at home would be enough for me to fit into a fast paced world of high end restaurant cooking. It helps to sometimes not know how bad or simply inexperienced you are at something. You plunge and eventually you surface and realize that you can swim across a lake and make your way to shore. With Mahjong, I have no illusions. I am a complete neophyte. Aren't I too old to learn new tricks?

 

A quiet evening. Perfect for the quiet mood I am in almost every night of my life now.

with so much love... 

not that much fun...

Gardening on a cloudy and cool day, where your soil is awful and what you're putting in goes below ground (bulbs) so you do not have instant gratification of any sort? Not that much fun. Waking up to see that Millie is now having repeat accidents at night? Not that much fun. Doing three UPS returns, and one Home Depot return, and shelving for now a Kohl's return? Not that much fun. Realizing that even after a morning of outdoor work you still have 103 bulbs to plant? Not that much fun. 

Having my joyous pup with me for breakfast, with blooming roses (not from my garden), warm milky coffee, mellow classical music playing and an open book before me? Bliss. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping outside and finding several roses in full bloom, like this one...

Enchanting. 

Seeing the delight in the eyes of the staff at Happy Dogz as Millie bounds in, displaying her fullest post-groom fluff?  

Total pride -- that's my girl!  With a beauty that starts from inside her heart!

Picking up a grandchild who is never mad at me, never complaining about what we do, or where we might go? So wonderful.

Picking up Millie then, together?

So sweet.

Driving home in fading daylight, knowing that we are only at the beginning of the dark quarter of the year? Not that much fun. 

Bringing out a good bar of dark, but not too dark chocolate? Intoxicating!

On balance? Such a good day!

with so much love... 

that have known me...

Are you a café addict? I am. Always have been. In postwar Poland, this was a common indulgence. People didn't eat out. They didn't travel much. They may have owned a TV, but there was nothing really you'd want to watch. They took walks. And they met up in cafés. In part perhaps to escape a crowded home situation. You couldn't hope for privacy there, so you met up with friends in a café, usually over a cup of tea and a piece of pastry. Ciastko. (It is interesting to me that none of my Polish boyfriends ever wanted to do this, preferring either home visits or long walks.) I loved those cafés (kawiarnie) and I continued to love them when I moved to the U.S., even though there was no such entity here then. Not until Starbucks came on the scene and a flood of others followed. [Perhaps you don't remember -- the first Starbucks opened in 1971 as a sort of espresso bar in Seattle. It might as well have been Europe. Not at all within reach! The Starbucks expansion did not happen until much later. I remember being thrilled when it finally arrived in Wisconsin, in 1997, though by then we had local roasters filling the void.]

Unlike those Polish boyfriends and unlike my ex-husband who also wasn't really a café guy, Ed and I have always liked café meetups. We had our own place -- the Oasis Café (which we referred to as Paul's, because we were with Paul the entire time he owned and ran it). Ed and I would go there after I finished work, and we'd go there on weekends. He's read, I'd write and occasionally we exchanged stories. Bliss. We then switched to Finca -- a café that also had wonderful owners from El Salvador, giving the place a sort of Latin vibe. Finca was closer. It became ours until Covid shut everything down, after which we drifted, untethered, restless, until our bike rides took us on a favorite route to McFarland where we settled on Grace Café. Loved those moments with him there! However, the arrival of Millie initially meant that bike rides with Ed had to be put on hold and again we drifted, until I learned that Millie was welcome at Tati's in the new development where I now live, and so now that place is ours, and I love it as much as I did all the ones that came before it.

*.    *.    *

Millie is a dog with a sensitive tummy. That is the reality and despite my switch to pricey human grade food, she continues to have flareups and I expect this will be her pattern into old age, all the psyllium and probiotic powders notwithstanding. She is a worrier when faced with the unfamiliar, and that surely doesn't help. This means that she continues to have the occasional nighttime accident. I can always tell I'll have a clean up job, when 7 a.m. passes and she is not restless to get going. Not in a hurry? Oh oh...

No matter. I'm well equipped with good products that easily clean up any pup mess. She looks on anxiously, wondering if she is in trouble. She isn't of course. She knows she should go out, but if that option isn't available to her -- well what's a girl to do?!

We have a beautiful time over breakfast. My breakfast. (She eats earlier.)

And soon after, my once-a-month cleaners come (I pre-cleaned everything thoroughly before their arrival!) and Millie and I do a rapid exit. I have her monthly grooming appointment scheduled for today (she needs these... despite my daily brushing, her hair easily clumps and thus cannot be kept long), but I still have time to kill before that appointment so I take her for a run in the dog park...

... where as always, she is. spirited, but also shy with unfamiliar scents, relaxing completely only when she sees us getting closer to the exit. 

I drop her off at the groomer's and I still have a few minutes to kill (I pay only for one hour of cleaning, but I want to make sure I do not interfere with that). I go to Finca Café. 

Such memories! It is unfortunate that I am reminded of the pandemic here, but I am also reminded of days before that, when the sunshine streamed in through its large windows and we felt the warmth of their fireplace on a very cold winter day. And mostly, I am reminded of all the beautiful moments I have enjoyed with Ed. So many of them were quiet ones, where the joy was in being in each others presence, nothing more. [I could have asked him to join me here today, but he was busy offloading a toilet to someone, which sounds totally gross but he swears it's clean -- sitting unused in the barn after I replaced it during the farmhouse remodel. At least he was giving it away as opposed to selling it!]

*.    *.    *

And what gardening work awaits me in Steffi's Garden? Well, I'm in a holding patter here. Four container roses and seven in-ground baby ones are in transit (I hope). I'm really pushing it with planting them so late. Several nurseries advise against it, several more claim it's fine so long as the dirt is workable. I guess I land somewhere in the middle. The only reason I continue with this project this late is because the weather has been so weirdly warm and is slated to stay this way for the next ten days (at least). Not even a light frost in sight. So, dig another hole, fix the other ones, and wait. Eventually I'll have to mound the roses. That's a big project but probably I wont get to it until December because they have to drop their leaves first and that's just not happening yet.

Aside for the rose plantings, I'll have six perennials to put in as well. But not today. And of course, the bulbs: 128 of those. Also not today! I need to spend an hour or two digging out some very large dandelions or else my lawn-pedantic neighbors will kill me!

*.    *.    *

I bring my girl home. Adorable! 

People say that doodles are a class in itself. Happy, barky, playful, intelligent, spoiled. Of course, the spoiled part isn't a trademark of the dog, it's a trademark of the people who care for them. Doodles are demanding (in terms of grooming and, too, because they are so playful, spirited and smart) and people who expect just a doggie companion for their family are often overwhelmed by these pups. And then there are the rest of us. who are just so in love with the personalities and sweetness that they present and we just can't say no to their humble demands.

I belong to that club.

 

 

*.    *.    *

Ed comes over for dinner. I have lots of leftover shrimp. I garlic them up and we have ourselves a shrimp feast. Over NA beer and the show we like to watch together.  Almost as good as an afternoon together at a café.

with so much love... 

 

 

cars

Millie and Ed have this in common -- neither likes being in a car. For Millie, I have to think it has to do with the uncertainty of what comes next. For Ed, cars are boring machines. Like airplanes, they trap you for long distances. He's cramped, he's sleepy -- a bad combination for a driver. To my knowledge, he has never purchased a new car -- a waste of money. But though he detests driving the thing, he doesn't mind crawling underneath to fix emergent problems. In the 21 years I have been with him, I've seen him go through three cars -- all visual wrecks, purchased at very low prices. Used, with problems that he then fixed. The last one, a little Hundai, dating to 2000, finally died and so for the past few weeks he's been on the lookout for a replacement.

He found one that he thought might be okay -- an '09 Hundai Accent again, but with several years of improvements on it. The owner lives in Janesville (a 45 minute drive south) and so this is going to be our excursion for today: to Janesville, to consider a car. 

But first, Millie and I have our usual beautiful morning.

 

  

 

And then I do some rose business: I donate two Baffins to a neighbor, and I put in trellises for a new positioning of the front climbers. I'm hoping the trellises will be strong enough. Saving money on plant supports is a textbook example of being penny wise and pound foolish. A heavy rose can bring the whole structure down. Still, I'm going to take a chance and stay with the cheap ones. With support structures you're left deciding between a Hyundai Accent (a used one at that) or a  Mercedes-Benz. There is no in-between, 

And while I'm on the subject of roses (am I ever not on the subject of roses these days?), let me say that I am not the only one carrying gardening into what I think of as "nearly winter" season. Several of my planted roses too, have forgotten that they should be laying down their heads and going to sleep for the winter now.

(I am really not a fan of red roses, but I do not have the heart to mess with this one -- Frida Kahlo, one of my very first purchases, when all I cared about was putting in something with a strong bloom. Kahlo is a very strong bloomer.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now Millie naps, while Ed and I drive to Janesville, 

It reminds me so much of all the trips he and I have taken together to various points in Wisconsin and beyond. And I have to wonder -- why have we stopped? Again, I think that's on me. I never want to drive anywhere, because like Ed, I find driving to be tediously boring. I've turned into a very local person who occasionally likes to go to France. My weird orbit!

Ed tested the car and found it to be acceptable. It surprised him that the owner let it go for $1600. He would have paid more. He'll be spending the next several days detailing it, switching out the wheels, fixing minor glitches. 

Ed and I have such different interests! And yet, here we are... 

 

Having already left Millie in her crate for a couple of hours, I decide to forgo gardening and stay in with her. I have plenty of tidying and dinner prep work to do!

Yes, the young family is here for the evening meal, probably the last one we will have with any amount of  daylight in it. [Next week, we have a clock fall back. I've been preparing Millie for that change, but, like Henry, she is resistant. Wakes up at 6:30 and can be stalled until 7, but not later. Move that back an hour and see where it gets us...] 

One of the grandkids had a run in with their big, overly friendly dog last night, which resulted in a front tooth break (yes, it was an adult tooth). I was glad to see that the trauma of that was tucked away, for now anyway. All was calm. 

For one fleeting moment, even the dogs were calm.

 

 

(The canine calm did not last. Their play is always... energetic. Carpets fly, friendly growls are plentiful.)

I alternate dinners here for them between seafood and chicken. Tonight was seafood night. 

 

 

 

 

 

Evening. A quiet moment for me to take stock. Of how good the day was. Of my chocolate supply. Of Millie's growth and development. Of how lucky I am to have a garden that will, come spring time, bring color to the neighborhood. To my life.

with so much love... 

it ain't over til it's over

That's a Yogi Berra quote, by the way. Did you know that? (We are heavily focused on baseball this month here in Wisconsin.) Perhaps if you're not a baseball fan (generally speaking, I'm not a baseball fan, only because I think it can be boring, unlike football which I dislike profoundly because it's brutal) -- then you might not know that Yogi Berra was a baseball super star (MVP several times in fact), but he was also known for his kindness, inclusivity (gay rights advocate, spoke up for racial tolerance), financial smarts, devotion to his family, humility. Rare qualities in a person of great fame. 

I thought of him today as I picked up my Rose Book and added one more rose to my list (which thus stands at 95  96 planted -- or will be planted -- roses, and 7 potted ones). I look at the weather and again, there is no freeze in sight. So my gardening window is still open and I got this itch to take out (and give away) the two William Baffin climbers and put in something more in line with what is in the garden now.  Why? A rose is a rose, no? Sure, but the first William Baffin came from the farmette and even though it's a three year old, it has produced scant blooms. That's the trouble with William Baffin -- it's known for miserly repeat blooms (if any). And the second one is an even worse match  -- it was put in by my landscape person back in May. Those were the days when I couldn't do much on my own because I had a renter in Steffi's House. My landscaper chose and put in the rose, and by now I have moved or given away most of what she had planted. Yet there stands her choice, the Baffin rose, in the most prominent place of the front garden, growing bushy and crazy big, with no blooms. And no, it's not that it's working on root establishment. It's just that kind of a rose.

To garden is to move, to give away, to start again and again. And while I'm at it -- there's the rose tree that needs to come out (I'm keeping her, albeit in a pot), and something else that needs to go in. 

My thoughts are on my roses. As usual. Not over till it's over.

 

But, I do understand that there is life outside the Rose Book. For example, Millie and I have a fine breakfast hour...

And then Ed calls and suggests a walk. We are up for it!

(I pick him up at the farmette: Ed, you do know that there is a chicken following you? Yes, she does that all the time now...)

 

 

(at the dog park: late autumn colors)

 

 

 (Miss floppy ears)

 

 

Followed by Tati's -- now a real favorite for Millie. It's the routine of it that's so attractive for her. Ed always sits in the same spot, she always gets her pup cup, what's there not to love?

(did you know that dogs can smile?)

 

 

Back at home I realize that the weather could stay this way forever and I will have spent the last years of my life just thinking about, and learning about, and scheming about roses, and nice as that image may be today, it would be a shame to bypass everything else. 

Reluctantly (very reluctantly!) I take out my spring bulbs, lay them out on the counter and try to draw up a plan of what will go where. Interfering with this is the dahlia project. There has to be room for both -- bulbs and dahlias, and they have to coordinate well with the remainder of the garden. Someone once asked -- what would you rather have, lots of space for roses,  or lots of roses without much space. I've found myself in box number two, and I think that is a good thing -- I cannot let the garden grow so big that it becomes a burden. Nevertheless, lots of roses means I need to think before I plant. Allocate things with care. Too crowded is never good. Plants need room to breathe. 

Maybe tomorrow I will actually begin putting bulbs in the ground. You never know!

What a fantastic month it has been for us! August was tough, September was wobbly, and then came October. The month where for me at least, many good things happen.

with so much love... 

 

same

I have been wondering -- is everyone, even those who are, say 73 years old, terribly rushed all the time, not finishing all that they need to do in the course of the day? Or is it just me? Why is the day so short?! (And no, one hour added once, next weekend, wont help.)

Ed said to me the other day -- you plunge into these things and there's no moderation. Dogs, cameras, gardens, roses, kids -- it never ends.

Well I suppose that's one way of looking at it. Or you could say I get enthusiastic about projects and devote myself fully to doing things that bring me satisfaction, joy, pleasure. Nevertheless, as the day catapults forward at a breakneck pace, I'm left thinking -- shouldn't there be time for just being unoccupied? Maybe even bored? 

Today, I am not bored. 

Millie and I are up and out at a compromise point: not before sunrise (the day before yesterday), not after sunrise (yesterday), but just at sunrise, which today is at 7:21 a.m.

 

 

Yes, it is another beautiful day here in south central Wisconsin. Probably in all of Wisconsin. Perhaps even beyond Wisconsin. So... what if I get completely used to it and get all grumpy and sour when cold wet air returns?  What if I wake up one morning this winter not liking snow?

   not likely.

I take my breakfast to the sunny window of course. The peonies are grocery store stuff and they're cringe worthy since the season for them is ... long ago. But, it's rare for me to love a grocery store flower in late autumn so I turn my back to the wrong season issue and bring home this beautiful three pack (one still hasn't opened)..

 

 

 

Millie naps, I try to process some bills and returns, Millie wakes, we go to doggie daycare.

If I thought yesterday that I might start sorting through daffodils and crocuses and bluebells and tulips -- well, that was an unrealistic expectation. There was still garden fixing to do out there. Last strips of sod to rip out and mulch to put down. Last rose hole to dig out (I mean it! Last one!), Set up corner garage space for wintering over pots of roses and tree roses (in addition to my final tally of 94 planted roses (three still in transit), I will have three tree roses and four new pots with planted baby roses that I hope will survive in the garage. I have bubble wrap and cardboard flooring all ready for them! A trellis to build for two climbers, plants to water in the front yard.

Coincidentally, the expert on Public Radio's Garden Talk today was Rita Perwich -- she is the author of the recently published Natural Rose Gardening: the Organic Guide to Growing Amazing Blooms. Since I was hurrying to get stuff done (what a surprise), I only caught snippets of her Q/A segment. That's okay -- she was a poor choice to give advice to Wisconsin rosarians since she lives in California and has no idea about our growing conditions here. But I do have her book which is a great source of practical information for those times when your plants are covered with aphids (buy some ladybugs!), or worse -- thrips (release some Amblyseius swirskii or Amblyseius cucumeris -- beneficial bugs that you can buy online). I'm guessing those will be her recommendations -- I haven't gotten the book yet. But what I did find interesting was something that I have learned already, on my own in my two months of rose growing: the best defense against disease or pests is to be vigilant. To observe your roses daily. Yes, daily. I make the rounds every morning, snipping and removing where appropriate. Taking note. If day lilies required intense oversight in July and part of August, roses need your walk-through from April through November. 

 

 

 

And finally, when I put down the shovel, the clippers, the hose -- it is time to pick up the kids. The boys, then the girl (who was so busy chatting to her friend that she passed my car without noticing it.)

 

 

 

 

They're all freshly after parent-teacher conferences, where the parents learned some obvious truths and, too, some less obvious ones. For example -- two of the three kids were independently praised for being very kind to their classmates. A different two of the three were described as leaders, though in very different ways! And two were seen as very funny. All three were doing well academically, so that's a relief I suppose, though one was described as perhaps a tad inattentive to teacher's directives.  (The other two were highly amused by this.)

I offered them all a trip to Barnes & Noble as a reward I suppose. Or maybe because I myself enjoy these Friday outings to a bookstore. And whereas on our first Friday trip there this year, the younger two balked, right now, everyone looks forward to it.

And there is a Starbucks in the store, and I do offer a snack there. 

As on previous Fridays, I drop all but Snowdrop at home. She and I go to pick up Millie...

... and then she goes to her Youth Group meeting while I bring Millie home.  

I study the weather web page. No frost in sight for the next ten days (it could change of course). Fabulous news for my roses. And for me, since I'm always running behind schedule. I'll be planting the bulbs without wearing a cap and mitts. (This week for sure.) Will that be the last gardening task for the year? Not by a long shot. I need to heap chips and dirt around each of the 94 roses (after a couple of hard frosts that will have them drop leaves, which I will then have to rake up to keep spores and larvae out of the soil). I need to plant the pots with the baby shrubs and dig out my one planted rose tree. I need to feed what remains of the lawn, and mow it one last time, leaving some length so that whatever is burrowed at the base isn't shredded to pieces by the mower. And I need to do a winter trim of the perennials. And water everything solidly until the ground is frozen. Gardening into December?? Seriously?? And I wonder why I have so little time for anything else...

with so much love.. 

 

this weather!

If it's pleasant and then rain comes and then it's pleasant again -- well, you have a rhythm there that allows you to fit in all that you set out to accomplish. You work outside on grand days, you pay bills on wet rainy days. You pay attention to your writing too, because you're indoors and have the time for it. 

We do not have such a pattern this month. It all has been excruciatingly lovely -- every single day of this month. Oh, maybe one day it rained. Maybe there was a second one when I was away. But apart from that -- it's been sunny and delightful for outdoor work. T-shirt weather! Snowdrop is still wearing shorts to school. (Ed is in shorts too, but he's nuts in that he wears shorts in the winter too.)

And so I work in the garden and then the clock moves forward too quickly and it's time for me to pick up kids or Millie or both and then it's evening time and boom -- the day has moved on.

Now, this is fabulous for my gardening. With all the great weather, the roses do need to be watered, but that surely is better than having them drown in downpours. And apart from the one night of maybe a tiny light frost (though I swear we had none), the night temperatures have also been warm. My plants are working hard on developing their roots. All is good.

But I have no time to read, write, shop, pay bills, fold laundry -- not any of that. Not the mundane, not the creative. So forgive me if this is rather... brief and banal. Some day the weather will turn on me and I will go back to indoor work and perhaps (though it's not a given) post more creative texts here.

And speaking of creative, a neighbor stopped me while I was working outside today. She had a gift for me. (I'd given her a couple of plants, she was grateful.) What she likes to do is gather up broken plates. People give them to her, she finds them, collects them. Shattered china. Out of these pieces of tableware, she makes mosaics. And this one is for me. Since she thinks of me as the neighborhood gardener, she was sure to include bits of flowered plate pieces. With a little mirror in the middle.

And how was my early morning? Oh, just extra fine!

 

(Millie waits for me to get ready, keeping an eye on possible movements outside) 

Another misty walk, this time after the sun already made an appearance.

 

 

 

Breakfast? The olive tree brings in a bit of nature to my sunny seat. A flower, Millie, a book. Coffee and granola with yogurt and fruit. And honey. My Polish roots always lead me to drizzle a good honey over whatever it is that I am eating for breakfast.

Millie goes to day care, I take boxes to the recycling center and food and compost buckets to the farmette.

(Ed's container garden on the picnic table...)

 

And then I work on ripping out more sod (for the dahlias!), and planting a rose (my replacement plant), and starting in on one more hole, for you know what.

And before I know it, it's time to pick up Snowdrop. And Goose. And the boys. And then Millie. In that order, with various drop offs along the way.

 

(she laughs when I tell her she's wearing a scowl) 

 

 

(picking up the boys at Taekwan-do) 

 

 

Do not expect creativity to surge tomorrow. The weather is going to be... perfect. I may have to start in on my bulb planting.

with so much love...