Hot. The kind of hot that makes you not mind the coming of winter. At least it wont be so sticky and steamy in December! (Will it?)
There is, however, the upside: luxuriously long breakfasts on the porch...
The rebloom of flowers I had given up on for the year...
Too, it is splendid to ride Rosie to the Farmers Market on the Capitol Square! I meet up with older daughter and grandgirl there.
Though it is a toasty 86F (30C), there is enough of a breeze that Snowdrop is not convinced that her sweater should come off. So be it. Somewhere along the way she learned to love croissants and sweaters. I'm confident both are a passing phase.
(On the Capitol steps...)
(A quick stop at a shop that, unfortunately, is in the habit of dispensing balloons -- delighting kids, frustrating the parent/grandparent who then has to deal with a kid holding on to said balloon...)
In the afternoon, I tie up farmette loose ends. House keeping, garden keeping -- all the things that pile onto a weekend day for nearly all of us. I admit it -- I am a person who loves order and so a weekend clean up is a boost. When all is tucked in and put away, I am at peace.
[Separately, I love day-to-day order. Perhaps you read the article in the NYTimes suggesting that at the very least, you should make your bed to begin the day right? Indeed! I cannot imagine not making the bed (though Ed has taken over this task, as he is up nearly always after me). If I were never to see the bedroom again until nightfall, I would nonetheless tuck in every corner and fluff up the pillows just so. Order! Bliss...]
We haven't had rain for a while and though most perennials will weather a short drought, I do want to help along those that are just this year establishing themselves. And so I spend some meditative moments watering.
(A delicate and not unpretty autumnal front garden...)
(Looking toward the porch...)
And when evening rolls around, it's not hot anymore. And I do not expect it to be so hot again for a good nine months.
Ed and I play tennis in the secret courtyard among the pines and the breeze is lovely and comforting, buffering any harshness to the day, the week, the year.
It's a beautiful day after all.
On this Saturday, Snowdrop is at the farmhouse for an overnight. It's been a while since we've made pizza here for her!
As the pie bakes, Ed goes out to put away tools he's been using to bring down a partly fallen tree. Snowdrop finds him there and bums a ride...
... then follows him to the garage, to make sure he does everything just so...
She is bedecked in her mother's best necklaces tonight. A funny combination: the strands of beads, the wild ride...
It's getting late... A snuggle with a yogurt bar...
One last wild run in her p.j.s...
And then it really is time to wind down.
Do you want to go out on the porch and watch the bats swoop down?
No....
They wont swoop onto the porch. They're just gathering bugs in the night sky for their little ones in the barn.
This definitely gets her attention. One bat, another... It's a beautiful show!
What's that? -- she asks.
The sound? It's the song of the cicadas.
What are those?
Night bugs that call out to each other. Their buzz is their way of saying "I love you! I love you!"
I love you, I love you! -- she repeats it, satisfied.
Frogs, cicadas, bats -- they all come out to wish her, you, all of us a good and restful night!
There is, however, the upside: luxuriously long breakfasts on the porch...
The rebloom of flowers I had given up on for the year...
Too, it is splendid to ride Rosie to the Farmers Market on the Capitol Square! I meet up with older daughter and grandgirl there.
Though it is a toasty 86F (30C), there is enough of a breeze that Snowdrop is not convinced that her sweater should come off. So be it. Somewhere along the way she learned to love croissants and sweaters. I'm confident both are a passing phase.
(On the Capitol steps...)
(A quick stop at a shop that, unfortunately, is in the habit of dispensing balloons -- delighting kids, frustrating the parent/grandparent who then has to deal with a kid holding on to said balloon...)
In the afternoon, I tie up farmette loose ends. House keeping, garden keeping -- all the things that pile onto a weekend day for nearly all of us. I admit it -- I am a person who loves order and so a weekend clean up is a boost. When all is tucked in and put away, I am at peace.
[Separately, I love day-to-day order. Perhaps you read the article in the NYTimes suggesting that at the very least, you should make your bed to begin the day right? Indeed! I cannot imagine not making the bed (though Ed has taken over this task, as he is up nearly always after me). If I were never to see the bedroom again until nightfall, I would nonetheless tuck in every corner and fluff up the pillows just so. Order! Bliss...]
We haven't had rain for a while and though most perennials will weather a short drought, I do want to help along those that are just this year establishing themselves. And so I spend some meditative moments watering.
(A delicate and not unpretty autumnal front garden...)
(Looking toward the porch...)
And when evening rolls around, it's not hot anymore. And I do not expect it to be so hot again for a good nine months.
Ed and I play tennis in the secret courtyard among the pines and the breeze is lovely and comforting, buffering any harshness to the day, the week, the year.
It's a beautiful day after all.
On this Saturday, Snowdrop is at the farmhouse for an overnight. It's been a while since we've made pizza here for her!
As the pie bakes, Ed goes out to put away tools he's been using to bring down a partly fallen tree. Snowdrop finds him there and bums a ride...
... then follows him to the garage, to make sure he does everything just so...
She is bedecked in her mother's best necklaces tonight. A funny combination: the strands of beads, the wild ride...
It's getting late... A snuggle with a yogurt bar...
One last wild run in her p.j.s...
And then it really is time to wind down.
Do you want to go out on the porch and watch the bats swoop down?
No....
They wont swoop onto the porch. They're just gathering bugs in the night sky for their little ones in the barn.
This definitely gets her attention. One bat, another... It's a beautiful show!
What's that? -- she asks.
The sound? It's the song of the cicadas.
What are those?
Night bugs that call out to each other. Their buzz is their way of saying "I love you! I love you!"
I love you, I love you! -- she repeats it, satisfied.
Frogs, cicadas, bats -- they all come out to wish her, you, all of us a good and restful night!
