Wednesday

Sometimes I feel my late summer garden is like the kid you groomed, coached and cajoled to be a proper, polite and well dressed member of society, only to see him or her turn scuzzy, unruly, and terribly indifferent to your admonitions.

In other words, the garden looks a mess and honestly, there's not much I can or want to do about it.

Even as there will be the occasional outlier plant. The late bloomer, or the do-gooder of the bunch.





Breakfast is late because suddenly my mornings are less rushed. Oh, I'm up early (damn free loading non egg laying cheepers!), but I don't rush to get the day started.

(On the porch.)





The bugs, though less in number, still make it difficult to do much outside and so I appreciate the flowers in the yard that keep producing color without help or interference. (If you plant sedum autumn joy, or some such variant, you're going to get color. In autumn.)






As the clock strikes the noon hour, I'm off to pick up the little one.

As I enter her school, I see her right away. She is wearing some other child's shoes -- not that I realize this -- and she seems entirely engrossed in trying to understand something (possibly why a strange pair of shoes adorns her feet).  As I ask about her day, I hear again those wonderful words -- she is such a happy child!


Today, she has a bit of a longer day with me and so I pack her into my car and we drive over to the corn farm for a few fresh ears of corn for supper.

And oh, what a shock! They're telling me that this is their last sale day! Their last day? The reality sets in. Summer's done.

Oh, but Snowdrop - how she's grown this season! The first time we came to the corn farm this summer she was terrified of the John Deere. Not anymore!






She helps me pick the best ears of corn...






... and then we go home to the farmette. It's still buggy, but not so much that we can't walk slowly, taking in all that is around us.






And not so much that we can't feed the chickens some of their favorite bread, which the girl likes to share with them.






(Cheepers fed, she runs home to the farmhouse.)






Happy. Yes, it well describes the girl.






I gave her a new book (one with a strange little tale, but I'm trying to be less predictable than I was with my own daughters with my choices) where a penguin toy figures prominently in the story line. She insists on sharing it with her three farmhouse penguins.






She and Ed chase a paper airplane...






And eventually, Ed goes off for his Wednesday night bike ride and Snowdrop and I eat dinner. Which includes the delicacy of delicacies -- freshly harvested corn.





It's been a fine day for us all.