moments of pleasure

Which wise person reminded us that the greatest pleasure, happiness, contentment -- call it what you want -- comes from the smallest things, events, moments in your day? Was it Epicurus and his philosophy of modest pleasure? Socrates, for whom the secret to happiness was not in seeking out more, but to figuring out how to enjoy less? I'm thinking actually of someone like the German poet Wilhelm Busch, who claimed that happiness is found in paying attention to everyday, minor occurrences. I think Tolstoy made a similar claim. Beauty in small things. It's an idea that has been repeated over the centuries, and yet, here we are, waiting for the big events to sweep us away. A wedding, a lavish cruise, the best camera to take the best photos. All good, I'm sure, but I had to smile as my daughter wrote this morning how much joy she had in seeing her two younger kids, and especially Sandpiper who starts kindergarten this year, enter the school on go-to-school day yesterday. His own space to hang his jacket and backpack, his own school supplies, his own classroom. Here, let me post (with her permission) two photos from that first school visit (as a student -- he'd been to the school as a sibling numerous times for various sibling events): 

 

 

 

 

 

 Also from yesterday -- an evening photo of mine, this one of Millie being blown away by the sight of the moon (or so I'd like to believe!):

 

 

 

This morning is again beautiful. I know this endless string of gorgeous days will come to an end. I will miss them. 

(here's a delight: the return of my hummingbird)

 

 

Though I must admit -- I do not last long on the porch. Breakfast, and a brief reading spell...

... and then Millie and I retire indoors. Without a breeze, the sun can get quite intense, even in moderate summer temperatures. I wonder if that warmth will make it possible to sit outside on a sunny winter day, as you would, say, in the mountains, where the sun's heat can often have you pulling off your jacket, even on snow covered hilltops.  

Millie's coat is getting long again. She gets hot quickly and so I pass on taking her to the park. We do walk over to Tati's and I'm happy to report that if you tell her "we're going to the coffee shop," she gets excited.

 

 

 

And once there, she looks expectantly at me. Don't you owe me a pup cup? -- her eyes ask. 

 

 

 

Later, we do spend some time outside in her yard. I have to water and snip the roses there. She loves going out to it with me. She runs, she rests. She very much believes it to be her special place. And it is. And I'm glad.

 

 

Much of the rest of the day is a throwaway.  I have a good Zoom call with Bee, but I can't say that anything else was productive (meaning there was an unhealthy amount of screen time in the mix). I'm still in shock how quickly everything flipped on that first weekend of the month when I found out my friend was ill. Trying to keep tabs on how all that is going, keeping in close communications with her family and friends -- this takes an enormous amount of time and it's draining. Ed can tune out trouble like you wouldn't believe. Me -- I can function alright (resilient!), I can find those pockets of pleasure, but just that. I aim for nothing higher. A real Tolstoyan attitude, no? Low expectations, eyes wide open to the beautiful day, the flowers and sunshine. My cool home. My pup. My cup of coffee at Tati's. Lovely moments, all of them. It's just that half of my head (or is it more?) is wrapped up in the gauze of that other happening -- the unraveling of a person that I've been very close to for a very long time. I suppose we all unravel in some way at some point, but when it strikes close to the heart, well, you close yourself off to the pleasures of the type Socrates told us we should give up on anyway. The big stuff. 

Okay, time to walk Millie one last time. If anyone is my round the clock source of tickled pleasure it's that girl. Always there. Always anxiously watching to see what's next. In reassuring her, I reassure myself. Good stuff ahead of us, my girl! Good stuff ahead!

with so much love... 

where have you been?!

Yet another beautiful day... Warm but not hot. Gentle breeze. Sunshine. Birds are going nuts on my feeder!

 

 

 

Yet another breakfast outside, on the porch, with Millie. And with roses clipped from my garden.

It feels so calm, so heavenly that my book drops down to my lap and I fall asleep. It seems that this is the pattern for me: if I let myself drift into relaxation, I get sleepy. Millie doesn't mind. She snoozes underneath my chair, equally feeling that bliss of a summer morning.

My plan for the day requires careful timing. I need to pick up some flowers at the farmers market downtown, I need to drop Millie at doggie daycare, and I need to drop off the flowers and then pick up Snowdrop and bring her home. I then need to feed her lunch, then take her for a haircut and yes, she talks me into purple hair once again. (She asks the hair person to make it more permanent. Thankfully, they dont do "permanent purple." Personally, I like it best on her when it fades a little, but of course, preteen girls have little patience for a grandmother's views in the matter of personal appearance. And then I'm to bring her home and I'll be picking up Millie and then that's it -- I will have done everything I've been tasked with for this day.

Let's see how it all unfolds:

First, the downtown market. 

(Remember when I used to post our skyline views? For the next five years all we get is construction views.)

 

 

The Wednesday one is much much smaller than the Friday one and this is definitely a plus. You go, you shop, you leave. And here's the best part: since it takes place on a wide street with big city sidewalk spaces, they do not ban dogs. This is Millie's first trip downtown and certainly first trip to the market there!

We come right up to my favorite flower vendor from years back. Where have you been?? -- she asks. I thought maybe you moved! I've been thinking about you! 

There is no good response to her kind concern. I tell her it's the dog, that I haven't really been to the market at all (just once, briefly). but that I will try to come to the Wednesday markets going forward.

Especially since Millie seems intrigued by the whole concept of "downtown." The people (who seem to find her to be deliciously cute, so much more so than the suburban types in my neighborhood who are just into their own dogs), the flowers... Well, maybe not the flowers. Millie sees flowers as potential nibbling material, nothing more.

I pick up Snowdrop, pausing to chat with my daughter for a few minutes. And on the drive to Steffi's House, Snowdrop excitedly tells me about her first "real crush" (it's mutual, gaga!), and all about her camp experiences, and it feels like I've finally caught up with her this summer. 

Okay, lunch...

 

 

 

... haircut and color...

then her home, then Millie, and then back to Steffi's.

So, where have I been all these weeks? Doing just this: keeping to a schedule. Moving from one thing to the next. With long pauses, when I can afford them, on the porch. and with my flowers.

with so much love...

 

a very long breakfast

My porch chairs, which I took from the farmette (Ed and I had purchased them when we first finished the screened porch there) are good for about a 90 minute sit. After that, the back feels rough and my feet need a lift. This is a good thing, or else Millie and I would have lingered from 8 til noon, that's how much I love watching the world from behind the wall of flowers. And sipping my milky coffee.

 

*     *     * 

It is quiet to the front of the house. Were I in the back, I'd hear the rumble of a CAT excavator. There are two empty lots on the other side of the back alley and today the construction people who will eventually build there, are clearing weeds and leveling the "dirt."  And once again I marvel about the timing.They're doing this just as I have finished major digging in Steffi's Gardens. I have hauled hundreds of buckets of stone and construction crap and clay soil there. A drop in the bucket for the lots. Once smoothed over, it will all become the base of a new construction project. But for me, this empty lot made gardening possible. What would have I done with the awful "soil" had I not had that wasteland in the back? Most likely I would have dumped it to the rear of farmette lands. But it would have required so many trips there, and lengthy walks to the back of the property. I thank my lucky stars that many aspects of garden creation fell into my lap with perfect timing.

 

*     *     * 

I spend a few minutes on the bench in Millie's Yard. (Let's face it -- this should be the proper name for our fenced space.) It is the best space for doing nothing. I glance at the roses -- one after the next -- and take in the various other plantings. 

 

 

 

Millie finds her shady spots. 

 

 

 

We are content here, in our bubble of flowers and shade.

*     *     *

By noon, I am sure Millie could use a walk. It's not easy to do this on a leash. She resists going beyond the block (in either directions). Unfamiliar scents cause her to do a doggie stall: sit down and refuse to budge.  And so to the dog park we go!

And walk she does. No running today. Too warm? Too timid? We dont see other dogs. Perhaps she needs their presence to set herself free. 

*     *     *

In the later afternoon, my daughter's friend (who is visiting from California) comes over to check out Steffi's House and to pay his respects to the aging person living there! I haven't seen him since Poland (he traveled with us there). It is so hard to believe that only two months have passed since that trip. Normally I do not clock in so many events into so short a period. Seems like a year at least.

 

*     *     * 

And in the evening Ed is here for a supper of leftovers. He comes at a time when the mood here is rather... subdued. Things are not going well with my friend. All I can do is lean on his shoulder and sigh.

 

with so much love... 

 

embers

I wasn't a Girl Scout (no such option was available to me at my New York City school), but I did go to a Y camp where I sang with the rest of them the song that I've subsequently learned is a Scouting song, titled Each Campfire Lights Anew. And as the embers die away, we wish that we could ever stay, but since we cannot have away, we'll come again another day.

The end of the reunion came today. Honestly, there is a sense of finality to this day that extends far beyond the reunion. I had had three big, no, huge events for this year's summer. The family trip to Poland. The move to Steffi's House. Planting Steffi's garden. And two smaller but no less important ones: Grandma Camp, and finally the Reunion. When I would check off any one of these, I would focus immediately on the next. 

Today, the last of them ended. I spent a morning with Barbara and then drove her to her young family's home. 

And now I am with my own thoughts, and I have no pressing events to which I should shift my attention. No plans. No crunch time because there is no deadline. I did everything I had to do, culminating in this weekend of our reunion, during which I could begin to unwind, or at least imagine life without an immediate event looming before me.

It would be very easy to feel the enormity of it all. A sort of PTSD moment where I fall apart at the idea that I am no longer beholden to an intense series of days. No preparations. No fears of failure. But also no craziness to fill my day. I can now finally sit on the bench in Millie's yard and enjoy a moment of rose gazing. Or read a book in my book corner. Or sip a milky coffee on the porch. 

I can, and yet...

I'm still picking up the pieces. And maybe I dont want to let go of it all just yet, because then I would have to confront my future days and in doing this, I would plunge into useless worry about my sick friend for whom I can do very little these days. 

Still, I am transitioning. Into something else. Though I am too tired to imagine what that something might be.

*     *     *

Barbara and I stayed up late last night. Way past midnight for me. Millie was delighted with the whole weekend and Barbara continued to be delighted with her, so it was a harmonious threesome that sat back and chatted (or occasionally barked) into the wee hours.

This morning, Millie did ask me to please get up at the usual hour and honestly, I was more than happy to do so, because the day is so lovely, the sunlight so gentle, the breeze so cool.

(two morning views)

 

 

 

 

Barbara came down for breakfast...

And here, we lingered forever. This time I do remember what kept us to the table: filling in some blanks. We've known each other forever, and yet there are many things that I either do not know or do not remember about my friend. Like where she lived as a young child. Or what dog she had growing up. Or what was the subject of her dad's work. Or where her daughter had had a bat-mitzvah. Endless details that to me are fascinating because they are like those missing puzzle pieces -- they complete a familiar by now picture. Of course, you never quite finish the project of sharing a past with someone, but still, you feel great every time more pieces are found.

 

 

 

We drove Millie to doggie daycare, we shopped for kombucha, because I had never tried it. (So many things your friends can teach you!) And then I dropped her off and came home.

*     *     * 

I'll be thinking about this summer, this whole year in fact, for a long time. Maybe while sitting outside and enjoying the dapple and dance of the maple leaves in Millie's yard. My tree planted yesterday, tree of love, friendship, of great beauty. 

I'm sure with time I will imagine new projects and develop new ideas on how to clutter up my life. For now though -- I'm giving myself one big exhale. 

with so much love... 

reunion

I'm thinking of Dickens, writing about peaceful London and violent Paris at the end of the 18th century. At several moments this weekend these words kept circling around in my head -- it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Dickens did a deep dive straight into the paradoxes of the human condition -- the hope and despair, the wisdom and foolishness. My weekend could have served as an example for him: all in one place, in one set of days, the calm and joyful, the worried and agitated. The best of times, the worst of times.

My friends' visit is fabulous. You cannot help but love a day of meals together, of hikes, Millie romps, tree plantings. And yet, weaving its way through the day is this ongoing drama with my ill friend. Sometimes it spikes, sometimes it runs parallel to a joyful moment, sometimes, but not often, I can put it aside. Happy as a clam, unhappy as a clam at low tide. Both at the same time. One doesn't displace the other. 

It's remarkable how adaptable and resilient we can be.

So, about those happy times:

Breakfast, of course.

And then a drive to Prairie Morraine dog park. Yes, with my dog. Of course with my dog. I've not taken Millie there before. She barely manages not to freak out at my local dog park. So many unfamiliar scents! People! Dogs! But yesterday, she managed the nearby park well and so today the three of us -- my reunited law school friends along with me -- drove out with Millie to Prairie Morraine. The park that Henry loved so much. Let's give Millie a chance to fall in love with it as well.

And she does. My pup is cautious, but also cautiously happy. I am gratified to see her not shy away from dogs, nor their owners. For the first time in my life, I am at this wonderful gorgeous park...

... with a dog that just wants to be friends with everyone. Cautiously, but with love and affection for the world and its inhabitants.

The walk is lovely, the weather is perfect. The prairie flowers -- black eyed susan, evening primrose, bee blossom -- in full bloom.

After a good spin around this huge park, we drive to K&A Greenhouse. Barbara had the idea that I should put in a tree that would provide some shade in the Millie yard My furry pup is always on the lookout for shade.. Maybe a river birch? We drive out to look at all the discounted now trees at the nursery.

The birches are tall and threatening to grow to heights and widths that would overwhelm the space.  Moreover, I am warned to be on the look out for birch leaf miner. And provide preventive treatment every couple of years, or else. That felt burdensome. I back away from a birch. How about a redbud? Dont like the leaves that are big and unattractive after the flowers disappear. A maple maybe? No! We have huge maples at the farmette! Talk about overwhelming! 

I have just the thing -- says the nursery person. You know that when they say "I have just the thing" you should be wary of the suggestion. And yet, I think he pointed us to the perfect tree -- a Korean Japanese maple called Jack Frost.

Such dainty leaves, promising great color come fall! And a reasonable height. Perfection itself.

And now we can come home for lunch.  And more discussions about hugely important subjects, so important that I can't at the moment remember any of them, 

Evening. Time to take Diane to the airport. She's due to travel to her own younger family. It's just Barbara and me for dinner tonight. (Pasta, salad...)

Oh and Millie. Until tomorow at least, I have Barbara. And Millie.

 

with so much love... 

reunion

A full day with my two law school friends. Luxury supreme. Oh, and ones who love dogs, especially Millie sized dogs, having themselves been dog owners of just such pups. 

We wake up to a beautiful day. Really gorgeous. Breakfast inside because it's more comfortable there. 

And now the important part: a tour of my flowers (Barbara is a grower, albeit in a New Mexican climate). Millie likes this! She shows off her toy and zoomie run.

 

 

 

Millie, this isn't about you right now! I want to focus on my roses!

 

 

 

Well, maybe it is a little about you! Should we go to the dog park? All four of us? 

 

 

 

Did I tell you that Millie is angelic the whole time? Turns out my pup loves gentle house guests! 

Ones that find working on a puzzle to be positively exciting!  

Lunch at home -- cheese, crackers, fruits...

Dinner at home -- frittata with asparagus, garden tomatoes, Stoneman corn...

 

 

 

And then we just talked. And sipped prosecco. And ate Jeni's ice cream sandwiches. And it was all so good...

with so much love... 

 

reunion

We do it every year: the three of us, best law school friends, get together for a long weekend. In recent years we've been meeting up in Wisconsin. Fond memories, easy for one of us, some family still here for another. We'd rent an AirBnB and spend the hours talking, sometimes over a jigsaw puzzle, sometimes a glass of wine (though that has gone down significantly -- no need to stock up on lots of that anymore!). 

For the last few years, I've been a bit of a wet blanket: three years ago, I had had knee surgery days before the reunion. I was in pain and probably complaining or at least not moving much for the duration. Two years ago I had a hacking cough that woke the dead (leftover from some bug that lasted too long). Last year? I can't remember what last year delivered but I'm sure I was in some ways either less able or impaired or something, because that seems to be my contribution to our time together and sure enough, this year I am the person with the mental baggage of someone who is still reeling from shock. From what, you ask? From the moves, the dogs, and most importantly from a friend being ill.

So, goal for me -- to take in each good moment and not spend our time fretting at something over which I have no control.

But first, my solo morning. My pup is being mischievous. After having a brilliant week of having no accidents, she has had three in the space of 24 hours. I think she is testing the waters. As in -- can I get away with not holding it in? I try to communicate no, without seeming like I am holding anything against her. These days you have to tread gently with dogs -- they have fragile souls that are easily thrown out of wack by a harsh tone.

Breakfast. Peaceful.

(another frequent visitor to my porch lavender)

 

I take her to doggie daycare and drive over to the airport to pick up Diane. Friend number one in terms of arrival, though not in terms of length of time we've known each other. Barbara, friend number two in terms of arrival, has been my pal since 1981. Diane? Only since 1982. 

A torrential rain hits me on my drive. Buckets of water coming at me from all sides. I can't see the road, I can't see anything at all except a light in the car, flashing to tell me all the safety features are disabled by the deluge. (This strikes me as unfortunate since you would think I need more, not fewer safety features while being blinded by a storm.)

I survive. Diane lands. Eventually. All rain is gone, we drive home. 

So long as we are on that side of town, I stop over at Madison Sourdough to pick up croissants and such. Diane has been traveling since 4 a.m. CT. I think the first thing on the agenda is to feed her.

We take it easy. Meaning we talk. 

 

 

 

And pick up Millie who of course has to voice her fears that I am exposing her to someone who definitely is here to strangle her and stuff her down the garbage disposal. (She gets over it quickly enough. Millie is a dog of loud "first time" greetings but a mellow albeit mischievous temperament.)

We eat supper of crackers and cheese and then I go out to pick up Barbara at the airport. Also a day of travel for her. I bet she is tired. I bet Diane is tired. Not me though! I can honestly say that I feel too tired to be tired. Still, we are reasonable people. We are also older people. We go to sleep just slightly after midnight!

 

 

 

with so much love... 

overdue

Overdue books from the library? No, not that. It's been a while since I have had those. I'm overdue with life! The everyday stuff. The roses in Millie's fenced yard need to be watered. The old cameras hanging around in the basement need to be sold. Compost needs a trip to the farmette. Overdue with clearing out the rest of the farmette possessions -- all to be sold or given away. Overdue with testing the water (is the softener doing it's job? I'm not sure..). 

And what do I do about it? Well, breakfast on the porch is very long...

(we have a repeat visitor in the mornings: a hummingbird that just loves the porch flowers)

 

 

Then Millie and I go inside and I take my book to the reading nook and within minutes I doze off. For a good hour.Mybe more...

And now I have to think in terms of priorities again. Roses first (while Millie plays in the yard).

Next? A trip to my daughter's garage sale (it's going well!! lots of kid stuff! cheap!). I say hi to Sparrow at his lemonade stand and pick up Snowdrop, to bring to Steffi's House, with a stop over at Tati's for a lunch date with Ed. I get coffee, she gets Boba, Ed gets lunch, Millie gets a pup cup.

 

 

 

 

 

Snowdrop rests and reads at my place and I make up some pasta for her real lunch...

 

 

 

It's a relaxed afternoon, deliberately so (she tells me she was up until 2 on a sleepover last night and she has a Shakespeare show this evening -- hence the black clothes, which are standard tech crew garb). And as she takes it easy, I water some of the side garden roses. They're overdue for a soak.

I do a lot of rose analysis before and after Snowdrop leaves. There'll be adjustments to make. Maybe this year, maybe next. Some roses need to be moved. Some will go in places that right now are sporting other blooms. I stock of my non-rosy flowers as well.

 

 

 

Moving things around now sets the stage for a good spring. Gardens are never "done." The work and planning and redoing and improving is ongoing. Is it a compulsion? Yes of course. But one that brings calm to the soul and a great deal of satisfaction. This morning, for example, I was sitting out with my breakfast and my Millie when a jogger passes by. She pauses and says -- your garden is so beautiful! 

I really do not look for compliments. They make me squirm and blush. But her words sent a message to me. One that I loved. My flowers are bringing enjoyment, to random strangers, in the way that flowers often bring enjoyment to people who happen to find themselves very close to a flower field. I mumbled a thank you, but what I should have said was -- I am so so glad you felt a spark of joy passing by the garden! It makes me happy to know that. Considering the rather somber Zoom call I was on late into the night concerning the state of health of my friend, I'd say that this brief morning exchange about flowers was a high point in my day. That and watching Snowdrop give Ed a hug. Ed is not easy to hug.

 

 

 

with so much love...