a Monday in May

Thankfully, the day was cloudy and cool, with a sprinkle every time I dared step outside. Farmhouse notwithstanding, my work life orbits around paper and computer screens. I needed the time to put in some solid hours of crunching work product.

You could say that the day is consumed by work and by untangling snafus associated with the move. Most anything these days can be accomplished on line. Indeed,  this is the first time I have moved without sending a single notification of a change of address by mail! Impressive. More computer clicking.

Ed, can we speed up the Internet connection here?

What can’t you do with the basic service?

It takes me forever to upload stuff!

Like what?

Photos, for example!

What’s the hurry?

Yes, Ed knows no hurry.

By late afternoon, Ed is ready to quit replanting tomatoes and I am ready to pause with clicking away on my baby Apple. We zip over for a coffee break (Ed does not drink coffee, but he does not mind the concept of a coffee break) and follow it by a trip to the second closest grocery store for a quick restock of essentials (milk and fruit and Klarbrunn... everything else can wait). Why second closest? Because truthfully, Walmart is closer (4.5 miles, where as Copps is 5.1), but the idea of shopping for groceries at a mega-Walmart store makes me slightly unhappy.

It feels chilly outside. All that talk of warm weather? Forget it. Not today. Back at the farmhouse, I pull out a few random box elder twigs from the raspberry patch. Ed and I discuss the problem of the front steps of the farmhouse (they’re crumbling, useless and unsightly) and then put the project to the same side where we’ve wedged back porch renovation ideas. Call it the "sit on it" side.

I look over at the constantly multiplying daffodil patch...





And then back at the sheep shed, now made pretty by the fruit tree buds and willow branches.





Even on a cloudy day, this place is a charmer. In my eyes at least. And especially in May.