Sunday - 93rd

The reality of outdoor work is that you're never caught up. Take this moment: you've weeded the flower beds. You planted everything that you intended to plant. You sowed seeds, you mowed paths, you clipped spent flowers and trimmed vigorous shrubs. So, sit back and admire it all from a comfy position? No. The minute you step outside, your eyes are drawn to the place that needs work. And so you dig in: trim the edge of a bed. Or two. Or three. Clip those irises and remove their supports. And weeds: how did I miss these? They're tough!

This is my morning. And a beautiful one it is: sunny, cool, perfect once again. Working outside is a pleasure!






But by 11, I am so ready for breakfast. Somehow three hours ran past me and I hardly noticed. Ed, wake up!






We sit for a long long time on the porch, enjoying this stellar June day.

Ed suggests then that we walk the farmette lands. The goal is to look around, to take pleasure in the small corners of this vast space, but of course, inevitably, we take pauses and new projects fall our way: the crab apple has some dead branches. Off they go. And in the young orchard...





... a black walnut has grown to such heights that it's blocking the light to no fewer than four fruit trees! It has to come down.

Ed attends to the tree, I mow down the grape arbor. Someday we may get grapes out of it, but thus far the beetles have taken all the fruits. Still, it's a pretty place and de-weeding it helps keep the grape vines healthy.

We never finish our farmette walk. It's late afternoon by the time we're done. We go inside.  Ed needs to bake cookies (tragically, we have none left!) and I need to cook dinner.

The young family is here for our Sunday evening meal. Sparrow is happy to settle into his Duplo Lego land...






Snowdrop's thoughts are elsewhere (with a song she was hoping to hear on the car radio on the drive here)...






But it takes no time to have her perk up (Ed helps by playing the longed-for song...)






Dinner. On the porch. Of course.











And after, the kids and I head out for a walk along the mowed path.






I want to show them the felled tree. We count the rings. Snowdrop thinks it's nine years old. That may well be correct.

The young orchard is lovely in the evening: the sun still shines down on the grasses and the young trees. The colors are gentle. The kids like it as much as I do.


Later, much later, Ed and I tune in to the last episodes of our crime drama series. I hated it yesterday (killing off beloved characters is not my idea of a good script), but we've watched it this long, so we may as well finish it. Popcorn helps. And a glass of white wine. It's a good way to end a day where the muscles are stiffening up from the hours of work outside.

Want another chocolate chip cookie?
Of course!