I wake up knowing I should keep my medical appointment this morning. I should I should I should.
I do, but of course it proves to be a time suck and since I am healthy (that's a best guess... I am 64 after all!), perhaps I could have skipped it just this once.
No no, neglect the garden, take care of your health!
(Leaving a garden unattended for now...)
My early morning drive is past the crane fields. I am alone and though the birds do still seem majestic, I can't share that swell of emotion as I pause to watch. Better to witness them with a small child!
Two and a half hours later (I told you it was a time suck), I am back, on the porch, having my one quiet moment with Ed, over breakfast.
Do I have time for the flowers? I do not. Still, maybe just the lily field by the porch...
It looks much more light and airy, doesn't it? And yet I pick off 100 blooms!
I stop work at 100. The rest of the garden -- meh. It will hold. Until... well, I don't know when. Next year!
The young family and I had a complicated but workable strategy as to how we could do it all, fit it in, make smooth the transition as they move from one home to the next. But as I begin to gather together the necessary components of play with Snowdrop (don't forget the swimsuit this time!), I get that phone call from her mom: the school called, the child is sick.
Uff!
Parents pick her up and bring her over. Mom snuggles babe for a while and dad goes to sheep shed to coax two out of the three cats out of their hiding places.
Parents leave. They have movers loading a truck!
Babe tries to rally. She eats her fruit and has enough energy to tell me she needs to cook. She reaches for my pots.
I suggest she use her own...
But really, perhaps it's best if you napped, Snowdrop!
She does. Oh, does she need that nap!
Afterwards -- well, you know how kids are: one minute they seem to be recovering, fine, up and running...
... next minute they feel sick again.
Bedtime. A story, read in a modern way (on a phone)....
And then many more, read conventionally.
Such an evening! Did I worry that the farmhouse would be September 1st-like quiet, too quiet?
Not a chance.
I do, but of course it proves to be a time suck and since I am healthy (that's a best guess... I am 64 after all!), perhaps I could have skipped it just this once.
No no, neglect the garden, take care of your health!
(Leaving a garden unattended for now...)
My early morning drive is past the crane fields. I am alone and though the birds do still seem majestic, I can't share that swell of emotion as I pause to watch. Better to witness them with a small child!
Two and a half hours later (I told you it was a time suck), I am back, on the porch, having my one quiet moment with Ed, over breakfast.
Do I have time for the flowers? I do not. Still, maybe just the lily field by the porch...
It looks much more light and airy, doesn't it? And yet I pick off 100 blooms!
I stop work at 100. The rest of the garden -- meh. It will hold. Until... well, I don't know when. Next year!
The young family and I had a complicated but workable strategy as to how we could do it all, fit it in, make smooth the transition as they move from one home to the next. But as I begin to gather together the necessary components of play with Snowdrop (don't forget the swimsuit this time!), I get that phone call from her mom: the school called, the child is sick.
Uff!
Parents pick her up and bring her over. Mom snuggles babe for a while and dad goes to sheep shed to coax two out of the three cats out of their hiding places.
Parents leave. They have movers loading a truck!
Babe tries to rally. She eats her fruit and has enough energy to tell me she needs to cook. She reaches for my pots.
I suggest she use her own...
But really, perhaps it's best if you napped, Snowdrop!
She does. Oh, does she need that nap!
Afterwards -- well, you know how kids are: one minute they seem to be recovering, fine, up and running...
... next minute they feel sick again.
Bedtime. A story, read in a modern way (on a phone)....
And then many more, read conventionally.
Such an evening! Did I worry that the farmhouse would be September 1st-like quiet, too quiet?
Not a chance.
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