Hot weather. That's right, hot. So hot that after coming out to sit on the picnic bench, Snowdrop wilted, in the way that you do when sticky, warm air zaps you of any enthusiasm for movement.
Was it only a week ago that I was missing the comforting rays of a splendid summer sun?
Really hot outside. Our blood hasn't made the heat adjustment yet and so it feels positively like we've entered the tropics. 84F (29C). Uff!
We're quickly moving from the gentle greens of early spring to a full canopy of intense, lush foliage. From nothing, just four or five weeks ago, to this:
It's a stunning transformation.
Breakfast, on the porch, with a very sleepy Ed. But I'm in a hurry! The kids are about to come over.
Oh, here they are!
There is first the catch up play: each child gravitates to whatever they missed in the days away from farmhouse toys.
Eventually, there is the "art room."
But the grip of the great big beautiful and very warm outdoors is powerful. After lunch, Snowdrop wants play outside (equipped with her water bottle a few cheddar bunnies).
And what Snowdrop wants, Sparrow wants. With his own sweet preferences thrown in for good measure. (Lifting a watering can is only half the challenge.)
Fortified with a snack..
...We set out on a hike around the farmette lands. The mowed path takes us to the back of the barn and then again to the courtyard.
Well, that was exhausting! Okay, maybe not exhausting, but still, anyone want to retreat to the cool farmhouse, where cold cherries and mango slices await?
After the kids leave, Ed and I set out to Natalie's Greenhouse for one last supplemental purchase (curbside pick up!) of annuals. One more pot for the porch and, too, I pick up all her remaining Mexican lophosphermum. It's a new discovery for me! It's a stunning addition to any pot or basket and guess what: neither the cheepers, the rabbits, the groundhogs nor the bunnies seem to be keen on munching off newly planted little guys.
But I don't return to actual garden work until this evening, when that delicate evening breeze pushed away the heaviness of hot air. Afternoons are meant for siestas! (Dance, our not so feral feral cat...)
Or at least a few minutes of downtime.
Evening. I return to my pots of annuals. Time to feed the bloomers. Time to rub the belly of a cat, to pull a few invasive milkweed shoots, to build some cages for the exploding peonies (next to bloom!).
And dinner? Well, I feel we ought to adhere to something resembling a calendar. On Memorial Day, grills are firing up. We don't eat burgers and we don't have a grill, but we're always happy to brown up some chicken brats on the stove. With sauerkraut and corn.
Hundreds of thousands of Americans are living with heavy hearts this holiday. I wish it weren't so. We can offer so little...
Love, there is always that: love to all who have it harder than us.
Was it only a week ago that I was missing the comforting rays of a splendid summer sun?
Really hot outside. Our blood hasn't made the heat adjustment yet and so it feels positively like we've entered the tropics. 84F (29C). Uff!
We're quickly moving from the gentle greens of early spring to a full canopy of intense, lush foliage. From nothing, just four or five weeks ago, to this:
It's a stunning transformation.
Breakfast, on the porch, with a very sleepy Ed. But I'm in a hurry! The kids are about to come over.
Oh, here they are!
There is first the catch up play: each child gravitates to whatever they missed in the days away from farmhouse toys.
Eventually, there is the "art room."
But the grip of the great big beautiful and very warm outdoors is powerful. After lunch, Snowdrop wants play outside (equipped with her water bottle a few cheddar bunnies).
And what Snowdrop wants, Sparrow wants. With his own sweet preferences thrown in for good measure. (Lifting a watering can is only half the challenge.)
Fortified with a snack..
...We set out on a hike around the farmette lands. The mowed path takes us to the back of the barn and then again to the courtyard.
Well, that was exhausting! Okay, maybe not exhausting, but still, anyone want to retreat to the cool farmhouse, where cold cherries and mango slices await?
After the kids leave, Ed and I set out to Natalie's Greenhouse for one last supplemental purchase (curbside pick up!) of annuals. One more pot for the porch and, too, I pick up all her remaining Mexican lophosphermum. It's a new discovery for me! It's a stunning addition to any pot or basket and guess what: neither the cheepers, the rabbits, the groundhogs nor the bunnies seem to be keen on munching off newly planted little guys.
But I don't return to actual garden work until this evening, when that delicate evening breeze pushed away the heaviness of hot air. Afternoons are meant for siestas! (Dance, our not so feral feral cat...)
Or at least a few minutes of downtime.
Evening. I return to my pots of annuals. Time to feed the bloomers. Time to rub the belly of a cat, to pull a few invasive milkweed shoots, to build some cages for the exploding peonies (next to bloom!).
And dinner? Well, I feel we ought to adhere to something resembling a calendar. On Memorial Day, grills are firing up. We don't eat burgers and we don't have a grill, but we're always happy to brown up some chicken brats on the stove. With sauerkraut and corn.
Hundreds of thousands of Americans are living with heavy hearts this holiday. I wish it weren't so. We can offer so little...
Love, there is always that: love to all who have it harder than us.
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