Nothing about this week is ordinary. Nothing. As I noted earlier, I am to have my second week of house guests, or rather just one house guest, starting tomorrow and I want to prepare well for her. And so I am up at 5 and right after opening the coop (and chasing Henny out -- Henny, who has perched on Java's egg as if it were her own), I admire the way the garden is starting to unfold...
(Only in nature does deep orange work well next to deep pink.)
(A summer iris arguably even more beautiful than a spring iris.)
(The extraordinary day lily.)
And then I fix, I clip, I transplant, plant, and finally I water the beds that I hadn't had time for yesterday.
All this takes me up until 10. I am very tempted to go back to bed and get up maybe tomorrow, but I push aside such indulgent thoughts and get our breakfast out on the porch rather quickly...
... because I am due at Snowdrop's home in a few minutes.
And this, of course, is not ordinary, since on Mondays, the little girl typically comes to the farmette, but here's the deal: she is going to go on a vacation starting early tomorrow, thereby justifying a different routine for today.
But within that, we do the usual. The walk. The coffee shop. The pushing of the stroller. Still, I know that this is the last time we'll be stomping through her neighborhood for a while and so I hand you a few photos that will seem awfully familiar, even as for me, each one is so very unique...
(Playing hide and seek in the coffee shop...)
(Pushing the stroller...)
(Back home, studying the trucks and cars book...)
Is this it then? No more Snowdrop on Ocean for a week? Oh, quite the contrary! Her parents are sending her on a vacation to the farmette! Just because I live close by, doesn't mean she can't sleep over at grandma's house for a fistful of days!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to continue my preparations: menus to plan, activities to schedule...
I'll leave you with a solstice full moon tonight. I see that it is the first solstice full moon in more than 50 years. Strawberry moon. Beautiful over the fields to the east of us.
Goodnight, moon... goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere (from the beloved book by Margaret Wise Brown).
(Only in nature does deep orange work well next to deep pink.)
(A summer iris arguably even more beautiful than a spring iris.)
(The extraordinary day lily.)
And then I fix, I clip, I transplant, plant, and finally I water the beds that I hadn't had time for yesterday.
All this takes me up until 10. I am very tempted to go back to bed and get up maybe tomorrow, but I push aside such indulgent thoughts and get our breakfast out on the porch rather quickly...
... because I am due at Snowdrop's home in a few minutes.
And this, of course, is not ordinary, since on Mondays, the little girl typically comes to the farmette, but here's the deal: she is going to go on a vacation starting early tomorrow, thereby justifying a different routine for today.
But within that, we do the usual. The walk. The coffee shop. The pushing of the stroller. Still, I know that this is the last time we'll be stomping through her neighborhood for a while and so I hand you a few photos that will seem awfully familiar, even as for me, each one is so very unique...
(Playing hide and seek in the coffee shop...)
(Pushing the stroller...)
(Back home, studying the trucks and cars book...)
Is this it then? No more Snowdrop on Ocean for a week? Oh, quite the contrary! Her parents are sending her on a vacation to the farmette! Just because I live close by, doesn't mean she can't sleep over at grandma's house for a fistful of days!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to continue my preparations: menus to plan, activities to schedule...
I'll leave you with a solstice full moon tonight. I see that it is the first solstice full moon in more than 50 years. Strawberry moon. Beautiful over the fields to the east of us.
Goodnight, moon... goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere (from the beloved book by Margaret Wise Brown).
