More storms pass through, more rain feeds the thirsty plants. Hey, that's enough! They're not that thirsty! The day is a little cooler, the clouds a little denser.
Maybe I should use this opportunity to slow down.
True, there is so much that I could do right now. Plant -- yes, of course. Put in the post-frost seeds. Dig in the day lilies that arrived from Oakes. And pick out the millions of maple seeds that have sprouted this year. Everywhere! Ive already plucked out more than I could count. Weed out creeping charlie, garlic mustard, quack grass... spread more wood chips... Put in a Clematis vine by the new trellis built by Ed. Oh, the list is endless!
But it will remain endless all spring and most of the summer season. And so perhaps I should tread lightly.
It's tempting to just take a pause. Brew a cup of tea -- whoa, I haven't paused for tea since the good weather came to us! But, I go out, just to take a breath of fresh air and Ed is there too and I tell him how some day we should clip some of the bushes by the driveway and he says -- wanna do it now? And we never even get to the bushes, because as he takes out the big clippers, we pass the giant crab apple that has some dead branches, and now we're clipping and hauling, and moving on to the peach trees -- clipping and hauling and the idea of a pause is lost in all those sawed and clipped branches and maple seedlings pulled from the ground.
A few photos from the day:
Our beloved farmhouse always looks good to us, but it especially looks grand now, in the beautiful month of May.
One of the daffodil fields: it's struggling a little after the downpour, but is still lovely!
The big girls, showing off:
Breakfast!
In the afternoon, I bring Snowdrop to the farmette. She has bits of leftover pain au chocolat in her hand. We throw out some crumbs to the little girls. It's their first croissant treat!
Snowdrop had spied the dandelions growing in the front yard. She knows she can pick those without limit. Off she goes!
(I also let her pick any fallen daffodils. Oh, happy child!)
Perhaps you can't see it, but in her right hand (below), she's clutching a few forget-me-nots. I had planted a clump yesterday and I asked her this afternoon if she remembers their name. I had to nudge her toward the answer and she laughed hard when she realized that she forgot forget-me-nots!
(Ready for indoor books and snacks...)
Toward the end of Snowdrop's visit, it looks very much like the rains are going to come down hard again. I suggest to Ed that he corral the little chicks and get them into the coop. He goes out, but comes in after a few minutes looking a bit troubled.
I can't find them.
Did you look... -- and I list the usual places where they like to roam. Nothing.
Snowdrop and I go out to help in the hunt and very quickly we find them marching along in the old orchard -- a new favorite of theirs. But herding them toward the barn proves to be difficult.
I'll help! I can run really fast! -- this from the sweet girl, who sees how ineffective we are.
It's comic, really. The rain begins to splatter on them, on us. We chase them, we manage with one, she escapes. This continues for a long, long time. Ed is ready to give up. Eventually, they will learn to go in the barn, but this is their first rain and they seem so puzzled by it all.
We try again and with all of us moving this way and that, we eventually succeed.
I am relieved. We are all relieved. I'm sure the young chicks are relieved. But for me, it is especially important to get this done quickly. After Snowdrop goes home, I throw together a salad, reheat bowls of chili and put in a few necessities into my backpack. After supper, I catch a late bus to Chicago.
Tomorrow, I'll be spending the day with little Primrose and her mom. For now, I'll leave you with a view out my window tonight.
What, not as fun as a twelfth floor room view from last week? Ah, but it's a treat nonetheless -- the room has windows on three sides...
... and the clerk, remembering me from my last visit and intuiting my tiredness, handed me a Goose Island, an Anti-Hero India Pale, plus a Fiji water to enjoy as I looked out onto the city. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but tonight, I popped one open, for the sheer fun of it.
Maybe I should use this opportunity to slow down.
True, there is so much that I could do right now. Plant -- yes, of course. Put in the post-frost seeds. Dig in the day lilies that arrived from Oakes. And pick out the millions of maple seeds that have sprouted this year. Everywhere! Ive already plucked out more than I could count. Weed out creeping charlie, garlic mustard, quack grass... spread more wood chips... Put in a Clematis vine by the new trellis built by Ed. Oh, the list is endless!
But it will remain endless all spring and most of the summer season. And so perhaps I should tread lightly.
It's tempting to just take a pause. Brew a cup of tea -- whoa, I haven't paused for tea since the good weather came to us! But, I go out, just to take a breath of fresh air and Ed is there too and I tell him how some day we should clip some of the bushes by the driveway and he says -- wanna do it now? And we never even get to the bushes, because as he takes out the big clippers, we pass the giant crab apple that has some dead branches, and now we're clipping and hauling, and moving on to the peach trees -- clipping and hauling and the idea of a pause is lost in all those sawed and clipped branches and maple seedlings pulled from the ground.
A few photos from the day:
Our beloved farmhouse always looks good to us, but it especially looks grand now, in the beautiful month of May.
One of the daffodil fields: it's struggling a little after the downpour, but is still lovely!
The big girls, showing off:
Breakfast!
In the afternoon, I bring Snowdrop to the farmette. She has bits of leftover pain au chocolat in her hand. We throw out some crumbs to the little girls. It's their first croissant treat!
Snowdrop had spied the dandelions growing in the front yard. She knows she can pick those without limit. Off she goes!
(I also let her pick any fallen daffodils. Oh, happy child!)
Perhaps you can't see it, but in her right hand (below), she's clutching a few forget-me-nots. I had planted a clump yesterday and I asked her this afternoon if she remembers their name. I had to nudge her toward the answer and she laughed hard when she realized that she forgot forget-me-nots!
(Ready for indoor books and snacks...)
Toward the end of Snowdrop's visit, it looks very much like the rains are going to come down hard again. I suggest to Ed that he corral the little chicks and get them into the coop. He goes out, but comes in after a few minutes looking a bit troubled.
I can't find them.
Did you look... -- and I list the usual places where they like to roam. Nothing.
Snowdrop and I go out to help in the hunt and very quickly we find them marching along in the old orchard -- a new favorite of theirs. But herding them toward the barn proves to be difficult.
I'll help! I can run really fast! -- this from the sweet girl, who sees how ineffective we are.
It's comic, really. The rain begins to splatter on them, on us. We chase them, we manage with one, she escapes. This continues for a long, long time. Ed is ready to give up. Eventually, they will learn to go in the barn, but this is their first rain and they seem so puzzled by it all.
We try again and with all of us moving this way and that, we eventually succeed.
I am relieved. We are all relieved. I'm sure the young chicks are relieved. But for me, it is especially important to get this done quickly. After Snowdrop goes home, I throw together a salad, reheat bowls of chili and put in a few necessities into my backpack. After supper, I catch a late bus to Chicago.
Tomorrow, I'll be spending the day with little Primrose and her mom. For now, I'll leave you with a view out my window tonight.
What, not as fun as a twelfth floor room view from last week? Ah, but it's a treat nonetheless -- the room has windows on three sides...
... and the clerk, remembering me from my last visit and intuiting my tiredness, handed me a Goose Island, an Anti-Hero India Pale, plus a Fiji water to enjoy as I looked out onto the city. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but tonight, I popped one open, for the sheer fun of it.
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