Tuesday

I've been accused of always chasing the new. Never content to stay in one place, forever reaching for something elusive, speeding my way to the next thing and the one after.

How very inaccurate this is! Listen, a person who eats the same breakfast of oatmeal, kefir and fruit on the porch every single day (much to Ed's amusement) is plenty happy to stay with the tried and true.






I like repeating things that instill feelings of warmth and contentment. Haven't you noticed how many times I'll go back to the same garden view in my posts, only minutely changed from day to day?






A person who plants perennials is asking for repeat performances!






As I warm up in the courtyard sunshine now, looking toward the face of the farmhouse, I smile at the tiered repetitions that I've put in place: always the day lilies at the top (any minute now!), interspersed with a few oddities that give you that needed surprise, followed by the lower tier -- which is varied and colorful, and finally, the lowest level -- the tier of potted annuals with cosmos and nasturtium (soon to bloom!) planted in between.






None of this do I ever want to change. Oh, I'll put in new flowers in other beds, but the main fields remain firmly in place -- like a Broadway show that keeps on running, season after season. A few cast adjustments as some stars move on, but the essence remains the same.

Snowdrop is not unlike me in this respect. She loves to travel and adapts to the new without any show of discomfort, but in the everyday, she really loves her routines. The stroller, waiting for her after school: she looks for it every single time and on the rare day that it's not there, I better have a good explanation!

We go to the playground and unless there are children claiming space on the structures, she'll want the same swing...






... the same help with the climb up the pole, the same perch on the life guard chair.

Oh, wait! Today, for the first time, Snowdrop discovers that she can work the bubbly. What good is her newfound skill?? She can't reach the water!






And though she doesn't require it, Snowdrop surely is happy if I have the same croissant for a snack in the afternoon (followed by maybe a scone bit, but most certainly by the same bowl of fruits).


But we're not just creatures of habit and of course there is the excitement of returning to things you cannot do everyday, but can do on some special days, perfect weather days, summer days. The community swimming pool comes to mind.

It's not so crowded right now, possibly because we're just coming out of a cool spell. But there's plenty of sunshine and Snowdrop is thrilled to be here again.

Oh oh -- that new tankini from Gap? The bottoms are way too big! Snowdrop is a tall girl, but she is slight. I thought size 3 would be great. It's not. The bottoms fall down within a second of being pulled up.

It's good to carry spare panties in your bag. And it's especially good when they match the swim top. Sort of.






Snowdrop is absolutely ecstatic to be in the water today. I do not know why it strikes her as so perfect right now, but it does and the girl is all squeals and giggles the whole while we are there.






And she is brave again, "swimming" this way and that way, not minding the splashes and the occasional dunk.






It is very very hard to get out...






(Oh, that pool is just so tempting!)






Afterwards, as I look forward to reading a favorite book with her and then, once she is safely home again  -- to my summer farmhouse Aperol Spritz, to be followed by a supper of those beloved (same old) mushrooms with asparagus and farmette eggs (thanks, Scotch!), I think  perhaps the best days for me are ones that have plenty of beloved repetition. And every once in a while, I break away, just to remind myself that there is a bigger world out there. (And indeed, I'm leaving in a couple of days to do just that.)