Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Tuesday in Chicago

Yesterday, the city seemed full of new possibilities. Today, I've settled in. Predawn sky? I glance from my bed... Pretty. Yawn. Back to sleep. Yesterday, I saw new photo opportunities emerge (on my walk to Primrose's home). Today, I didn't think about pictures at all. I thought about babies and children and my children. And Ed.

He has been navigating between trying to get the lowdown on the rattles and clunks in my car (it seems to be so rusty in so many places -- this is the problem of living through eleven years of wintry, salty roads), and tending to the cheepers and Stop Sign, and working on chopping up the two trees he felled this month, and getting ready to build pieces of furniture that my mom purchased for her apartment.

My own schedule in Chicago is much lighter: I have my day with Primrose and granted, there's a lot of up and down and round and round, but this is all I have to do. No cooking/clipping/washing/clearing/driving/dashing/ferrying and sadly, no time with Snowdrop and Sparrow. It is always like this: I miss the ones I do not see.

This week is a rare treat for me -- I see a lot of the grandgirl who lives farthest from the farmette. (I tell her all about it. She seems excited. You slept there just last month -- I remind her. Of course, for a baby who is just four months old, that's a chunk of lifetime ago!)


Once more I have breakfast while Primrose naps...


When she wakes up, she is all grins and chortles.


Feeding time. Well, she is stoic. She knows grandma tries to make it fun, even if she can't quite be a mommy. At least not of a little baby!


If you do something two days in a row, it's a routine, no? Our practice has been to head out after this late morning meal. Primrose loooooves adventuring!

(Getting ready to set out...)


(I see you between the bars of the crib!)


Primrose has had a lot of stroller time in her life and it shows. She loves it, as much as some babies may love car seats and car rides. You put her in and she is at once quiet, happy, calm, excited.


Today, we head out to a different neighborhood. You cross the river, navigating a warehouse district that may one day be Amazon land, or at the very least, a place of new construction. The views to the city are quite special.


On the other side, we come to the Sheffield neighborhood (a northern extension of Lincoln Park), where the turn of the century houses are lovely to look at. The community has prospered, really for well over a century. There are places to stop by and refresh yourself. They are well worth the walk. Floriole is Cafe and Bakery is one such spot. Primrose has been here more than once (or twice or even three times).


The pastry selection is small, but everything looks as good as it tastes -- a rarity, in my opinion.


I order lunch. Primrose wakes up from her stroller doze. I consider leaving her in place, but decide against it. Here's a time release photo where the little one is surely wanting a bite of my avocado, pea shoot and poached egg toast. Soon, little one. Just not yet.


(Happy to be told that the day will come when she, too, can point to a pastry and say -- I want that one, please.)


And then we walk home and cycle through a few more feeds, naps and play sessions.

And toward evening. we repeat ourselves again, greeting the mom as she gets off her commuter train.

It's always my intent to scoot off quickly once the parents are home, but today, I linger for just a little while. Primrose is about to put on her concert. I want to be there so that I can one day say -- it's true! The piano maestro started to plunk out tunes on the keyboard when she was just four months old!

("I'm ready. Are you ready, grandma?")


And away she goes!


I'll end my post with that enthusiastic playing.

What? You think I should have included a view from my room? Well alright. The clouds parted for just a wee bit and the city turned orange at sunset. Worth posting, I suppose...


Even as I think the stellar moments today weren't in the sky. They were in the music, in the happy smiles, in the boisterous joie de vivre that my grandkids exhibit every single day of the year.


  1. Primrose is beautiful. Those gorgeous eyes! As it is every summer, your garden is truly lovely.

  2. You and I each have three grands. And the interesting thing is, the three are very different from one another. I find it fascinating to watch each entirely unique person grow. One shouts with joy. Another gives me a funny sideways grin, as if to say, just between you & me, we are amused. :)


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