It is a day with its own twists and turns -- none of them harsh, none of them surprising.
To start with -- my day begins with an early errand. And because I am downtown in the pre-breakfast hours, I pick up the day's bread supplies early. And I think -- what's to stop us from having a Parisian breakfast today? I never break from my oatmeal habit at home (which amuses Ed no end), but why shouldn't I stray from the predictable every now and then?
It's odd how I have bifurcated my eating habits: those at home, which are fiendishly (attempts at) healthy and those during travel, which are decidedly less so.
Maybe the reason some of us love to travel is that it tears us away from tiresome routines? Maybe if I occasionally ate croissants at home, I'd be less excited to rush to Paris for my fix of wicked breakfast fare there?
That's probably an overstatement, but still -- today, this is breakfast:
Oh and a garden walk! Yes, there's that. There is always that.
(The dancing iris!)
(The venerable farmhouse.)
And then, because we're like every other civic-minded American, we watch the Senate Intelligence Committee hearings. Many, many years have passed since I clicked on the TV before the evening hours. Today, the set stayed on all morning.
The day gets a little tricky then. I pick up an eager girl at school...
And we do go to the playground, but so does the local kindergarten class. Snowdrop is transfixed: all those kids dashing madly this way and that! She sits in her swing and from this perch, watches and listens and then, deciding it's safe to participate -- adds her own two cents on what's happening around her.
Only when the class leaves, does she want to go back to her climbing routines.
(The captain of the ship!)
(Back to liking the slide...)
(Duck gets tail-end of croissant.)
The clouds roll in and though it's supposed to reach 80F (26C), it doesn't really feel like wading pool weather. She settles for playing with ahah in the sandbox...
... while the cheepers take advantage of the pool.
And of course, Snowdrop gets so sandy that I decide to throw her into the wading pool anyway, just to rinse her off. Once in, she doesn't want to leave.
Nap comes very late today...
In the evening, after Snowdrop is back at her home with her parents, Ed and I go to our local farmers market. It's a Thursday late in the day event and both he and I love it, though perhaps (or maybe not?) for different reasons. I love (among other things) the preview of what we can expect from the fields in the days ahead. He loves picking up cheese curds in exchange for our farm eggs.
And here's a fantastic surprise! Strawberry season has begun!
These berries are exceptionally flavorful (I'm fussy: I find most strawberries at the market very average) and we pause to talk to the farmer (and his daughter) about how they handle berry-lovin' groundhogs, chipmunks and squirrels. (Once again this year, we lost our entire ground berry crop to these critters, though we still have some hope that our raised berry pots may deliver fruit!)
And now the day ends. I wish I could show you a photo of a full June moon (called "strawberry moon" -- with good reason!), but the clouds have taken hold and besides, the full moon is due tomorrow. Even as the strawberries appeared today.
P.S. To the commenter whose question dangles unanswered because I lost my way in the demands of the day -- I buy perennials at Flower Factory, and bulbs -- well, there's always Farm and Fleet, but for the more unusual, you might want to try out the fall catalogues of White Flower Farm in Connecticut. I've been their customer since 1988 and I they've saved me from many gardening disasters with clever ideas and good solutions.
To start with -- my day begins with an early errand. And because I am downtown in the pre-breakfast hours, I pick up the day's bread supplies early. And I think -- what's to stop us from having a Parisian breakfast today? I never break from my oatmeal habit at home (which amuses Ed no end), but why shouldn't I stray from the predictable every now and then?
It's odd how I have bifurcated my eating habits: those at home, which are fiendishly (attempts at) healthy and those during travel, which are decidedly less so.
Maybe the reason some of us love to travel is that it tears us away from tiresome routines? Maybe if I occasionally ate croissants at home, I'd be less excited to rush to Paris for my fix of wicked breakfast fare there?
That's probably an overstatement, but still -- today, this is breakfast:
Oh and a garden walk! Yes, there's that. There is always that.
(The dancing iris!)
(The venerable farmhouse.)
And then, because we're like every other civic-minded American, we watch the Senate Intelligence Committee hearings. Many, many years have passed since I clicked on the TV before the evening hours. Today, the set stayed on all morning.
The day gets a little tricky then. I pick up an eager girl at school...
And we do go to the playground, but so does the local kindergarten class. Snowdrop is transfixed: all those kids dashing madly this way and that! She sits in her swing and from this perch, watches and listens and then, deciding it's safe to participate -- adds her own two cents on what's happening around her.
Only when the class leaves, does she want to go back to her climbing routines.
(The captain of the ship!)
(Back to liking the slide...)
(Duck gets tail-end of croissant.)
The clouds roll in and though it's supposed to reach 80F (26C), it doesn't really feel like wading pool weather. She settles for playing with ahah in the sandbox...
... while the cheepers take advantage of the pool.
And of course, Snowdrop gets so sandy that I decide to throw her into the wading pool anyway, just to rinse her off. Once in, she doesn't want to leave.
Nap comes very late today...
In the evening, after Snowdrop is back at her home with her parents, Ed and I go to our local farmers market. It's a Thursday late in the day event and both he and I love it, though perhaps (or maybe not?) for different reasons. I love (among other things) the preview of what we can expect from the fields in the days ahead. He loves picking up cheese curds in exchange for our farm eggs.
And here's a fantastic surprise! Strawberry season has begun!
These berries are exceptionally flavorful (I'm fussy: I find most strawberries at the market very average) and we pause to talk to the farmer (and his daughter) about how they handle berry-lovin' groundhogs, chipmunks and squirrels. (Once again this year, we lost our entire ground berry crop to these critters, though we still have some hope that our raised berry pots may deliver fruit!)
And now the day ends. I wish I could show you a photo of a full June moon (called "strawberry moon" -- with good reason!), but the clouds have taken hold and besides, the full moon is due tomorrow. Even as the strawberries appeared today.
P.S. To the commenter whose question dangles unanswered because I lost my way in the demands of the day -- I buy perennials at Flower Factory, and bulbs -- well, there's always Farm and Fleet, but for the more unusual, you might want to try out the fall catalogues of White Flower Farm in Connecticut. I've been their customer since 1988 and I they've saved me from many gardening disasters with clever ideas and good solutions.
