It is not an idle day -- not by any stretch of the imagination. It's odd that a post from my farmette home base should be necessarily quick and brief and that posts written during a canoeing trip suffered none of the rush I feel now, but that, in fact is the reality of this week: I only have time for a few words here.
I cannot emphasize enough how peaceful the garden is now that a rooster has gone to his hen harem.
The girls seem content to keep an eye on us and the bickering I feared would seep in with Oreo's departure never happened.
Even Isie boy is coming out more often -- this morning he joined us on the porch for breakfast. In true cat like fashion, he took center stage.
Ed and I do take the time to play tennis. We've played far too few games this year and the weather -- breezy and mild -- is perfect for it.
Then comes the tedious part of surveying our veggie patch (mostly tomatoes and cukes). It is, of course, overgrown with bindweed and we spend a handful of hours pulling it out. But the crop of tomatoes looks promising and the cucumbers are already huge.
And we're getting a smattering of blueberries...
(The girls follow us to this western-most corner of the farmette. Are they bolder without their overseer, or are they simply more attached to us now?)
Then in the afternoon I play with Snowdrop.
She is, as always, full of cheer and she puts her entire being into whatever project she sets forth for herself.
Reason enough to wear down! I take her for a walk...
...but make the mistake of both raising up her stroller seat and flipping the direction of our round-the-lake walk. Poor, poor Snowdrop: surely missing her mommy (who is out of town for a couple of days) and now this! She barely holds it together until we return home.
Changes can be rough, though maybe they do teach you something. For example, Snowdrop learned that a loop can be walked in either direction. A new way to reconsider old configurations.
We have guests this week at the farmhouse -- Ed's friends from college days. We eat dinner, they recall people and places from years past, but mostly we all go back to the events of this past week. The skies turn darker, the bats fly out and do their nightly dance, the fireflies take flight as well. That and a cool breeze: the best of a summer night.
I cannot emphasize enough how peaceful the garden is now that a rooster has gone to his hen harem.
The girls seem content to keep an eye on us and the bickering I feared would seep in with Oreo's departure never happened.
Even Isie boy is coming out more often -- this morning he joined us on the porch for breakfast. In true cat like fashion, he took center stage.
Ed and I do take the time to play tennis. We've played far too few games this year and the weather -- breezy and mild -- is perfect for it.
Then comes the tedious part of surveying our veggie patch (mostly tomatoes and cukes). It is, of course, overgrown with bindweed and we spend a handful of hours pulling it out. But the crop of tomatoes looks promising and the cucumbers are already huge.
And we're getting a smattering of blueberries...
(The girls follow us to this western-most corner of the farmette. Are they bolder without their overseer, or are they simply more attached to us now?)
Then in the afternoon I play with Snowdrop.
She is, as always, full of cheer and she puts her entire being into whatever project she sets forth for herself.
Reason enough to wear down! I take her for a walk...
...but make the mistake of both raising up her stroller seat and flipping the direction of our round-the-lake walk. Poor, poor Snowdrop: surely missing her mommy (who is out of town for a couple of days) and now this! She barely holds it together until we return home.
Changes can be rough, though maybe they do teach you something. For example, Snowdrop learned that a loop can be walked in either direction. A new way to reconsider old configurations.
We have guests this week at the farmhouse -- Ed's friends from college days. We eat dinner, they recall people and places from years past, but mostly we all go back to the events of this past week. The skies turn darker, the bats fly out and do their nightly dance, the fireflies take flight as well. That and a cool breeze: the best of a summer night.
