lazy morning

How luxurious! My daughter is in town until early afternoon. We head out to the neighborhood where she will be living starting September. Night storms cleared the sky, but it is still very very warm outside.

We talk about meals that will be eaten in and around her new home. We stop in at a grocery co-op and nod our heads appreciatively over this item, that one – favorite things on the shelves of a store just across the street from where she'll spend so many waking hours.

We eat brunch at Lazy Jane’s. Welcome to the neighborhood – they greet her. Here, enjoy this scone while you wait for your food. 

















It’s a hot day, but not too hot for a walk afterward. Up one street, down the next, admiring gardens where owners have taken care to plant flowers that will inevitably bloom their heads off.





And now she’s off, my girl is – back to her work in Chicago. But she’ll be back. With her sister. In a few weeks. Because when you live that close, it’s just a bus ride away.

Two people separately in the past week say to me – you are at the core such a... well, happy person. It’s true. I could fight it, but it will come back – the conviction that so long as you (and your loved ones) are on your feet and able to toddle along, you've got a reason to grin shamelessly.

the whirligig

From dawn to nightfall – I haven’t the minute that I need for Ocean. You surely understand. This is how it looks: finish the writing of the ad for the condo. Zip out with daughter to downtown farmers market. Except that you can’t zip anywhere downtown when Paddle and Portage is in progress.





Visit Café Soleil for a last time before they move to their new fancy digs. Sentimental. I baked for Satruday markets here not too long ago. But, our cafés change staff so fast that no one (but the chef) is there from the days of my apprenticeship.






Shop at market. The basket fills. Weeks’ worth of produce. Yes, the French beans and baby potatoes continue to dominate, but there is so much more...















Flowers. I need flowers. I cannot even try to sell a condo without flowers on the table and in the kitchen.








daughter with bouquet


There. Shopping done. Market sights and pleasures duly recorded. Time to rest? Like these two?





Not us. Ed scoots over and we set out to hike. And swim. When my daughter wrote about visiting, she asked meekly (this after realizing that there would be a heat wave here at the time) – might there be a place to swim?

Sure. We've got it all.

We pick up the Ice Age Trail near Merrimac and head toward Devil’s Lake. It is a hot and buggy hike, but who would fuss on this glorious Saturday when skies are blue and summer is in full bloom.














And after a few hours, we look for the descent toward the beach. We find it.









...and we swim.

At the shore, a wedding is taking place. Alongside a grilling family and another and another...









I mean, it’s Saturday at Devil’s Lake – you can hardly expect quiet. And it pleases me no end that so many people are enjoying the Great Outdoors.


We swim, yes, forward and back, all three of us, and then we refill our water bottles and head for the car. And we drive home. Not for long though. A quick shower, a walk down to the theaters for a movie, and finally a late late dinner outdoors. Seaweed salad and sushi.









I’m home now. At the condo of your dreams. (Not mine for long. Too big. Too expensive. Sigh...) My daughter is asleep, Ed, too, has disappeared to consider the world and the day from a reclining position.

So, surely you’ll understand – I can’t write much today. Too full, too tired, in a happy sort of way.