returning

To sleep at 1:30, up at 3:45 for a cab at 4. For the first time since I can remember (ever?), I did not wake up without the aid of my alarm.

I was a tad nervous about relying on a cab without having a cell phone to back me up (or a hotel clerk to do it for me). I never do cabs unless there is absolutely no possibility of using public transportation. At that hour, there wasn't another way. I checked all the stove burners, shrugged at the linen napkins spread everywhere (I washed them, but they did not dry on time), locked up the apartment (with a smile at the pleasure of returning soon to it) and went downstairs.

Warsaw is quiet at this hour, but it is not without life. A man walks his dog, a car speeds toward the river and yes, there's my cab, waiting for me.






At night, the ride to the airport lasts exactly 18 minutes (ha! match that, Paris!). My driver listens to the news where talk of changes in taxation dominates (Polish politics are brutally divisive right now so I avoid commenting on what I'm hearing) and then he turns down the volume and his curiosity takes over.
Where are you going, Germany?
No, Amsterdam actually.
I would have let it go at that, but it feels dishonest. As a stopover. Then to the U.S.
I have a friend who moved there a dozen years ago, he tells me. On the sly. The wife joined him by coming in through Mexico! Their second daughter was born there so she is a citizen. But they're doing ok -- construction jobs, house cleaning -- that kind of thing.
We talk a little about the weather there, the weather here and as I get ready to leave (it really is a short ride!) he says -- you know, despite your living over there (cat's out of the bag), you speak perfect Polish! No accent at all. A hesitation sometimes, but really I couldn't tell!

Well now, how things have changed! When I used to go to Poland just once a year, my American accent was spreading into every corner of my speech. But writing to Pani Karolina daily and coming to Poland so often now has changed that in conversation, I am back on track!

The first flight is on time (ah, it's going to be a cloudy day again in Warsaw)...






... and indeed, I land in misty Amsterdam early. (So pretty to see the countryside lightly covered over with a gauzy blanket of fog!)






I'm tempted by the huge displays of various tulip bulbs in stores (it's Holland after all!) but I hold back. I want to be done with gardening for the year. I need a pause.

My first unhealthy breakfast of this trip (at the airport)...






... then off I go and 9 hours later, I am in Minneapolis, and finally -- Madison.

Exactly halfway between the airport and the farmette stands Snowdrop's home. Would you be able to go by without stopping to say hello? I certainly couldn't do it. The reward? A surprised and  exuberant little girl who seems to have grown in leaps and bounds in the last week!











It's incredible that the day started at Tamka (the street of my Warsaw apartment) and ended with Snowdrop. Two distant worlds, joined in one day.

Ed and I drive up to the farmette. I see that the trees and flowers have all entered into their late fall stage. Except for one plant -- but that's tomorrow's story!