Saturday

Every flower has its moment of glory. Typically, its blooming period is short. A day lily has only a day for each bud. A tulip -- a week, maybe two if you're lucky. Fruit trees -- less.

When a plant is at its peak moment, I'm in awe. It's almost as if there is nothing that could follow that would be better than this! The bloom, maybe a fragrance -- they're riveting! I wish then that it would last.





But of course, the garden would look ridiculous if everything bloomed at once and for the whole season. Nature gives us a progression of events and with every blossom there will be a wilt and a fade.

And still, the impression stays with us, for a long long time. I have stored images, recollections of enchanting moments and I'm sure you do too.  Heavy lilac heads just outside the porch, nasturtium in the gardens of Giverny, buttercups and forget-me-nots growing along the riverbanks in the village where I spent my childhood summers.

At the farmette, we're following the age old spring sequence.  And today surely belongs still to the lilac bush. (But not all lilacs: we have a white lilac that's long past her prime and a French lilac that's just budding.)

Okay, enough flower talk. Let's get on with the day.

Breakfast is in the kitchen. Not because it's cold outside, but because it feels... wet out there. Too much rain, too many clouds.






So, kitchen it is. But with a very fine view of the yard beyond.





A few minutes later, the clouds part, the sun is out. I'm meeting my daughter and Snowdrop at the Farmers Market. I have a short list, but it's an important one: flowers, asparagus, lettuces.

After you've been doing this market for as long as I have (thirty years plus!), you realize that you need to have a solid base of favorites. It's not the kind of market where you can spin around all the stalls and go back to ones you like. The walk is too long, the space too crowded. So you develop a short list of farmers to talk to.

These are my go to flower people. I love what they grow and their blooms are solid! They wont wilt on you by tomorrow.






This stand is my catch-all for produce. Whatever is in season -- they'll have it. Today I pick up their baby lettuces and baby bok choy. (And then I promptly lose the bok choy. Where the hell did I put it??)






Snowdrop's mom picks up cheese curds from Farmer John. Ed and I get our cheeses from him on Thursday, so today, I just admire her true Wisconsin nature: we are a cheese curd state!






At the end, we have our romp on the grasses. Snowdrop loves to take off her shoes and chase her mom (gaga makes excuses; I am easily captured by a four year old).






She is a free spirit, a doe, a barefoot wonder.











We take the old stroller just in case. She has to share it with my purchases.






At the farmette, I have a small list of tasks. But a porch break comes first!






After -- there's weeding and moving rocks and fixing cheeper damage and, well, taking it all in. With deep breaths, because the scents right now are phenomenal.





It's a warm spring night here, in Wisconsin. We waited a long time for it to come. The windows are open, the breeze is sublime.