As the number of trips to Chicago grows (I'm running quickly through my packet of bus round trip tickets), I become less distracted by the city. In the same way that I no longer photograph Madison's farmers market in its own right (it is the combination of Snowdrop and market that prompts me to use my camera), I no longer feel compelled to take pictures of the neighborhoods that I visit in the big city. I am here to see Primrose and it is only when she steps out into the urban landscape that I think to myself -- wow, this is incredibly beautiful! And I snap.
On this trip, I am staying with the young family.You know -- these people!
I'm not here long. Weekends especially are a precious time for them. No one has to work. Both can look after their most special charge.
(Primrose, getting her hair "brushed")
I want to leave them to their days together, as a young family.
But we do fit in an outing. It's cool outside: a hoodie is most appropriate! A hoodie, with a smile.
We go to the local "pub" (Publican Anker) for brunch. The parents reminisce how Primrose was just a few days old when they first brought her here. Kids make you aware of the galloping pace of time.
Unlike that first meal here some seven weeks ago, Primrose sleeps only briefly now.
Still, she is at this moment (no promises for next week or next month or next year!) a good restaurant baby. Even if she does cast a suspicious look my way, as if to say -- wait a minute, you're not my mom or dad. Are you that gaga person?
Your parents haven't abandoned you to the wolves, sweet Primrose! They're right over there, see?
How I love these young couples in my life! I get a whiff of something ephemeral and at the same time eternal, just being in their company.
And then I come home to the farmhouse.
(Siberian iris, along the driveway.)
(A peony asks: okay, you're home... can I unfurl my petals now?)
Ed and I are not a young couple. We're active, but we can groan loudly after an especially strenuous day. And we are just a little bit (okay, a lot) set in our ways. You don't see that and you don't believe it about yourself until you watch younger couples navigate a day.
Still, the fact that we are together tells us something: there's a whole lot of elasticity left in our approach to the other.
Do you want salad with dinner today?
No, I just had one yesterday. They're all the same.
Really? (I admit I ask this in a not too friendly a voice.) I chop some avocado and throw pea shoots, arugula and butterhead lettuce into a bowl for myself.
Maybe they're not all the same.
It's just a salad, for Pete's sake.
Maybe I want one too.
Not today.
A whole lot of elasticity, don't you think?!
I go out for a short little walk up the road. The deer are moving through the remains of the farmers' fields. The light is gorgeous, the breeze is cool.
June is off to a beautiful begining.
On this trip, I am staying with the young family.You know -- these people!
I'm not here long. Weekends especially are a precious time for them. No one has to work. Both can look after their most special charge.
(Primrose, getting her hair "brushed")
I want to leave them to their days together, as a young family.
But we do fit in an outing. It's cool outside: a hoodie is most appropriate! A hoodie, with a smile.
We go to the local "pub" (Publican Anker) for brunch. The parents reminisce how Primrose was just a few days old when they first brought her here. Kids make you aware of the galloping pace of time.
Unlike that first meal here some seven weeks ago, Primrose sleeps only briefly now.
Still, she is at this moment (no promises for next week or next month or next year!) a good restaurant baby. Even if she does cast a suspicious look my way, as if to say -- wait a minute, you're not my mom or dad. Are you that gaga person?
Your parents haven't abandoned you to the wolves, sweet Primrose! They're right over there, see?
How I love these young couples in my life! I get a whiff of something ephemeral and at the same time eternal, just being in their company.
And then I come home to the farmhouse.
(Siberian iris, along the driveway.)
(A peony asks: okay, you're home... can I unfurl my petals now?)
Ed and I are not a young couple. We're active, but we can groan loudly after an especially strenuous day. And we are just a little bit (okay, a lot) set in our ways. You don't see that and you don't believe it about yourself until you watch younger couples navigate a day.
Still, the fact that we are together tells us something: there's a whole lot of elasticity left in our approach to the other.
Do you want salad with dinner today?
No, I just had one yesterday. They're all the same.
Really? (I admit I ask this in a not too friendly a voice.) I chop some avocado and throw pea shoots, arugula and butterhead lettuce into a bowl for myself.
Maybe they're not all the same.
It's just a salad, for Pete's sake.
Maybe I want one too.
Not today.
A whole lot of elasticity, don't you think?!
I go out for a short little walk up the road. The deer are moving through the remains of the farmers' fields. The light is gorgeous, the breeze is cool.
June is off to a beautiful begining.
