Saturday, June 04, 2016


Nothing about this day follows a predicted path. I had low ambitions and images of many hours on the porch reading about bizarre rules of French grammar. That was not to be.

Early morning: a bit wet, but with signs of a clearing. A touch cool, but with promises of something more summer like.

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I look around the garden, pull a random weed and go back to the farmhouse to sleep.

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But not for long: the one detail that is in the calendar for this day and that must be taken care of is a visit to the Dane County Water Resource Engineering facilities where the distribution of native plants is  taking place. This is a project that I don't fully understand but approve of nonetheless. It involves growing and selling native species and I signed on to participate all the way back in January. You had to decide which of the natives you wanted and agree to pay ahead (the charges are slight compared to what plants typically cost) and then to show up at a specific hour on a specific day (today) to pick up what was grown for you.

In other words, quite early in the morning, right after breakfast...

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... Ed and I find ourselves stuffing some 36 tiny plants into the trunk of the car.

And this starts a chain of events that is so typical for us: one thing leads to the next and before you know it we own ten goats, forty frogs and eighty pine trees that need a home. Okay, it wasn't quite that outlandish, but it did lead us to decide that as long as we're in the planting mode again, we should expand the roadside flower field, grow another row of grapes (the first is doing so well! Shouldn't we capitalize on our successes??) and generally toil at ambitious planting on a day that was supposed to be, well, more relaxed.

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And the evening? Another turnaround. Snowdrop's mom suggests that I stop by if I'm in the area and of course, since I live only 9 minutes away, you could say I am always in the area. So I take out old rose-ah-roo (my moped) and zip on over. To a joyous, giggly girl.

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And yes: we look at The Book. She has seen many photos of herself, but never in a book.

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I watch Snowdrop play and I am just so in awe of how quickly she changes. When I saw her just a few days back, she seemed one way. Today, she appears to have leapt into a brand new stage of life. Or is it that everything else around me moves slowly, so that her growth seems rapid fire by comparison?

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As I ride rosie home, I think how a child is like a June evening -- you leave in sunlight, you come back with the possibility of rain, or the other way around. Before your eyes, everything's transformed.

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At home, the cheepers are underfoot still, wanting their evening treat. The air is cool, the evening is absolutely stunning.