August first

Could it be August already? The first of the month? Such a memorable day for gaga nina! Let me get right to it:

In the very early morning I am in a bit of a hurry. I spend hardly any time on my flowers. Snip off a few dozen spent lilies. That's it. (Still, I pause to take in the Big Field.)






(And I make sure the flowers by the porch are looking at their gorgeous best.)






And then I go inside and, early that it is, I nonetheless get  a start on dinner.

Once I have something going in the oven, Ed and I sit down to breakfast.






And because it's Monday, well, you know -- here comes Snowdrop!





Or should I say -- here comes the birthday girl?

That would not be incorrect. It is my older daughter's 35th birthday today.

I tell Snowdrop -- we must prepare! The cake is baked, but it needs to be frosted. The risotto tomatoes have to be diced. Presents need a final touch, tables and chairs have to be arranged outside -- come on, little one, there's lots to do!

But can't I first say hi to the cheepers?

Of course.






And smell the flowers? And visit ah-ah in the sheep shed? And pick a tomato? A blueberry? One final raspberry?

Of course.












Though in fact, I'm not keen on staying out too long, not only because of the preparations, but because we are in a bug swell right now. Sure, lotion helps, but I hover around Snowdrop nonetheless to make sure nothing lands on her and she is very tough to hover over.












Back at the farmhouse, we get to our tasks. And of course, she must try everything. Tomatoes!






Sweet girl, we must make orange sauce for the cake!
Sauce? She remembers the word from our pizza making. Yes!

I give her a little dish of it and she dips a cookie bit for a taste. She approves.






I realize, though, that it may be tough to get the cake frosted with her eager hand reaching for everything. I distract her with mommy's presents. For a while.






Ah-ah comes in. Another happy distraction. For a while.






Finally I suggest an early lunch. With a favorite side dish.






But in fact, Snowdrop is an easy and delightful co-conspirator. She'll help at times, or she'll be off gathering all her stuffies -- she knows every last animal and if one is missing, there must be a search! Then there'll be a long snuggle.






...Eventually she settles in to "read" to them, with her most amazing vocal inflections which, I swear, mimic mine with that book!





In all, she is a joy to have by my side.

During her nap, I finish off the cake.






And in the evening, the whole gang is over at the farmhouse -- the young family of course, but in addition, three of my daughter's best college friends who live on the coasts, but who have come to Madison to celebrate their friendship.






We eat out on the porch at grouped together tables. The evening is lovely -- really perfect for an outdoor meal.

(The young couple.)






(Friends.)






(Farmhouse reliables.)






Cake. Birthday wishes. Oh, do we all wish her well!






(Snowdrop has chosen this day to say the word "happy," again and again.)






And so ends a beautiful day. Good night Snowdrop, good night birthday girl, and good night to my other little one up north! (Wish so much you were here with us...)

And now onto August.