Friday - 133rd

We rode the motorbike to Olin Park to see the goats. An article in the local news source described how Madison had contracted with a goat de-weeding service whereby some forty goats are let loose in a space heavily infested with invasives. The goats chomp the stuff down.

It's a short drive to the park: less than ten minutes. I should know, I've driven this stretch hundreds of times in the past few years. Snowdrop and Sparrow attended a school just down the street.

It felt eerie doing it today. I haven't come this way since March when I last picked up the kids at school. A whole season came and went and now we're halfway into summer. And of course, I'm not likely to be picking up anyone from this school come fall. For one thing, Snowdrop will have aged out of her program. She is slated to attend in some fashion a public school in her neighborhood. If she stays home, Sparrow will stay home as well.

But I can't say that it was a sad ride or a sad reflection. For me, there are positives to having the kids in the morning: I get them fresh and eager as opposed to tired or excessively wound up. And we have had a summer of pretty good weather. Nice! Last time I was doing school pickups, I was carrying all that winter clothing, their backpacks, art work and, too, Sparrow, who was not yet very nimble on his own.


Earlier, in the morning, I checked off my usual farmette jobs. The bugs were horrible, but hey, we finally broke down and hired the mosquito pros to spray some "natural" stuff on our stomping grounds. We've used some such stuff the past two years and it does reduce the bug population by about 75%. It's good enough. The guys come after I've already snipped 850 lily heads this morning, but that's okay. I snipped them with a smile, knowing there will be a better tomorrow. You can put up with a lot if you know that any moment now the torture is going to end.

So, the garden first...





















Then breakfast...






Then I go to pick up Snowdrop for her Friday at the farmette.






(The young orchard meadow is doing well!)






(Her new beloved: peaches. They beat out even cherries.)












We sample a couple of new books and I have to smile, or shake my head, or both, at how this little girl can watch a whole Disney movie or listen to Harry Potter and not be terrified, but one scene in a realistic book where a child is frightened by an angry coyote and she doesn't want to finish it. She is super sensitive to child hurt -- by parent, by teacher, or by a wild coyote.

There is another predictable activity that we fall back on when Sparrow isn't here. She and I both sit down at the table to draw. She very quickly abandons her creation to sit on my lap and make a story out of my sketch, which is actually not mine anymore because she has so completely taken on the lead on what should unfold on this little canvas. It's especially sweet and poignant when a five year old climbs on your lap. That happens less and less as they get older. You get to really love those moments, knowing how quickly they disappear.


And then in the late afternoon, as you know, Ed and I ride out to look at the goats.






We didn't walk the trails too long. We've had enough of bugs.






Supper: cauliflower and corn with lots of basil. Fish. Salad with homegrown tomatoes.