Tuesday

It's tough getting up after an evening of festivities. And it's tough to be out manicuring flower fields when the bugs are now in control of outdoor spaces Still, I have this sense of shared misery: I'm not the only one feeling post-party tired today, and I'm not the only one with bugs flying every which way, and finally, I'm not the only one with a garden that's slowly inching toward Fall.

With that fresh perspective, I head out to do some pruning. And of course, expecting a garden with diminishing returns, it all looks rather grand!






(Here are four photos of day lilies from various corners of the farmette -- all are just now about to peak.)



ruffled doubles




reliables




spiders




bold and bright


Lowering your expectations nearly always makes you love what you see.






On the porch, I feel an urgent need to preserve these moments of sublime idyll that so mark our mornings now. I set the camera on a timer.






Yes, there is this contentment. The feeling that life has been very generous in giving us countless mornings over a bowls of fruit and cups of coffee and whatever else we add to it.






The visual gifts all around us are so grand! At such times, I'll feel the deep appreciation of having things exactly as they are now and I'll stumble over myself trying to explain this to Ed, who will get that guy look of patient tolerance, and I'll feel even more inclined to come up with the kindest, nicest words... It's our lovely pattern of sharing a good moment.


All this week, Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse for the day. She shows up as always with a wide smile and a generous heart toward everything and everyone around her.

(Where is she going? Do you know? -- Scotch seems to be asking...)






From Snowdrop -- Where is ah-ah? 






He went to the store on his motorcycle.
Ah-ah?
Yes, to get some tools to fix one of his machines.
Ah-ah?
(She can say a lot with very few words.)






I lure her inside with a promise of a surprise -- a set of magnet letters to play with. A reward for her continued love of identifying the alphabet.






(And here's another, rather predictable, reward...)






I bring out a magnet board that she had rejected many months back. It's a different story now! She definitely has ideas on how things should look on it. Grandma, farm magnets on one side...






... and letters on the other!






She points to the record player. Being rather lazy about music selection, I'd been playing one album daily. She wants to hear it again. She obviously knows the songs and today she is driven to dance. And I mean dance! None of this tame stuff.











She is one rock and roller!












Evening. Snowdrop is back at her home and Ed is busy with his machining project and I take rosie the moped out for a spin. Ed had just buffed her up and refreshed her mechanicals and she feels speedy and powerful.

There is no better time to ride your motorbike than on a hot summer evening.

I stop first at the corn farm to pick up some ears for our supper. If you live n Wisconsin and if you care about fresh produce, then surely in August you'll be eating corn and tomatoes. Both are staples for us now.

(The corn farm is also home to the horned cattle. As a commenter pointed out -- they're not really longhorns. These guys are Scottish Highlanders.)






I swing onto a particularly lovely stretch of rural road. I know just the spot where the prairie is vast and beautiful. I pause there to take it in.






And I stop again just before pulling into our driveway. It's pretty here as well, in the mishmash of crops grown by the truck farmers for the local markets.






I could end with that, but I think, instead, I'll end with another photo taken on this day with a time release. This time it's with Snowdrop.






Her smile is my smile. Yep -- plenty of grins spilling out from both of us today.