last day Friday

Tidy up your life before you take off -- that's my advice for anyone getting ready to travel. You'll stay focused on your trip and return to calm rather than chaos. It's worth it.

For me, this would extend to tidying up the garden, which, unfortunately, with so much rain, has sprung an extended network of new and old weeds, all coexisting in a splendid fashion.

But a cool and wet morning means I have little interest in spending any time outdoors. Ed asks - should I put away the rooster? I don't even hesitate -- don't bother.

I'm leaving tomorrow morning, but if you're expecting diversity of destinations, you'll be disappointed. I'll be gone 2.5 weeks and I'll be in one country the entire time. Five days in the middle of nowhere, three nights in a city, five more days out by the cold waters of a northern sea, three final days in a city. Voila. Except they don't speak French there.

And today? Well, it did strike me that the cold and blustery weather is something I'm likely to get in the days ahead (no shorts or sun dresses in my suitcase and that's saying something!). On this Friday I attend to the details of daily life inside the farmhouse (after breakfast of course, which, again, is in the kitchen).





(I want to note Ed's new pink shirt here. He went to his Friday machinists' meeting and claimed that no one commented.)

And then I visit Snowdrop.

She pulls at my heart, that girl! She gives me her most perfect hours -- every play minute today makes her happy. I want to tell her I love her to pieces even when she falls apart and cries her heart out, but she does none of that today.

I try a new taste for her -- mushed banana. I offer no commentary, just photos.





























Yes, I think we would agree -- avocado over banana.


Toward the end of the afternoon, I take her out for a neighborhood walk. Immediately she gives me her stroller countenance.





I think a commenter has it right: Snowdrop loves this ride where she can zen out into her own world.

(She is in her navy play suit and I slip on her navy hoodie, as there's a cool nip in the air. Snowdrop typically elicits comments from passersby. Babies do that. Today, at two separate times she got the sweetest smiles from guys passing her: hey, aren't you the big guy! one said with a fond smile. He's totally chilling -- from another. Put your baby in navy and the world says -- boy.)


Finally it's time to leave. I hold that girl tight, really tight. Will I miss her? Will I miss her!

She gave me a bunch of hearty belly laughs today -- right from her heart. It's the image I'll have with me -- her rolling rumbling laughter.


 



At the farmette, it's nearly dusk, insofar as you can tell on a cloudy day like this. Ed and I work a little in the yard. I transplant a daylily. We pull weeds. I feed the cheepers bread while he holds Oreo. I take my photo of today's bloom.





I love all this so much! Imagine how strong the pull of the other side of the ocean for me to want to take off.

Postings will be off schedule until I settle into the next time zone.

Goodnight for now. See you in travel.