Early, late, what does it matter. Don't look at the clock. Ask yourself -- am I too tired to get up? If yes, rest some more. But if a spark of energy surges -- get up and get going. There's a lot to do!
Of course, the minutia of everyday tasks, chores, fix-it requirements (my, how things break!), cleanups, scrubbings -- none of this is interesting to write/read about and yet, at the end of the day, so many minutes are devoted to them that it boggles the mind. Where did all that time go to? Farmette and daily life management, that's where. You may be efficient, spry and focused. You still need the time for it all.
(Good morning, cats! Dance stretches, Dark Blue Indigo Tuxedo -- everyone calls her something else -- waits.)
But the day is not defined by this stuff. When I think back to this brilliantly sunny Saturday, what stands out is this (and I write chronologically):
The garden. Looking at it, making mental notes on what needs to be done. Loving the emerging blossoms and the sound of bees and the silent speed flutter of the hummingbirds.
Breakfast. On the porch. Peonies, everywhere peonies. And the fantastically fragrant lilac.
A quick stop at my daughter's home (some kids are still in their pj's; of course they are -- it's a day without the usual boundaries).
(Others are dressed and ready to go!)
(Okay, bathed and set to face the day!)
I pick up my younger girl and Primrose and we head for the farmette. (With a stop for the CSA veggie box, which has something even Ed will let me toss to the compost pile -- cilantro! On the upside, it also has salad greens, spinach, asparagus, broccoli, radishes, arugula and other greens that are secondary in my book, but still fun to incorporate, even if it is very hard to fit everything in the fridge in these days when I'm cooking for nine and produce is so abundant.)
Lunch: cheeper eggs, broccoli, toast and mango with berries. Primrose loves it all!
Sandbox time. Just for a little while. I don't supply the kids with many toys in it -- usually I'm not anxious to have them play there for long. If the sun hits that spot it's too hot, too bright and if the welcome shade moves in, then the bugs come out of hiding. Still, for some fifteen minutes, it's great fun.
Later: her mom is working. Primrose is napping. Grandma is washing groceries, watering parched flowers, feeding the returning little kitten -- Cutie! So happy to see her again (she'd been gone for days)! Last night's howling coyotes and the sound of gunfire had us worried.
And soon after all those kid naps, the Madison family comes over.
It's amazing, really: the wading pool that I had picked up when Snowdrop was just a one year old is so tiny! And yet these three manage to squeeze in and entertain each other with water play for a long long time.
Kids play, I fix dinner. Tacos. I know, I know -- they've become such a staple here. But I got my corn tortillas! We're on!
(Three of my four best girls!)
(Waiting for dessert)
(Yogurt bars and cherries: worth waiting for!)
(Pretty funny!)
Meanwhile, for some inexplicable reason, the robot vacuum cleaner left its home and began its vacuuming work. Ed and Snowdrop are trying to send it back to its base.
Later, much much later, when the moon is bright and beautiful (we had the Strawberry Full Moon yesterday; did you know that?), after the last dish is clean and drying off, I plomp down on the couch and pour myself a glass of Bergerac white. A frugal person's Burgundy! I smell popcorn. With the best images from the day crammed into my head (and into my flickr folder), I can exhale.
I had been thinking during dinner, as the kids were singing and the grownups were clapping, how this scene plays itself out the world over, again and again: the older guys hooting for the next generation. Proud, crazily in love with the little ones' drive, talent, sweetness. It's what we all want: evenings around the table with people we love.
Sigh...
Turn on our British crime drama show, Ed. I hope our inspector's love interest comes around again and they live happily ever after! I mean, why watch a movie if it can't have a movie ending?!
And now it's almost midnight and the next day is about to begin.
Of course, the minutia of everyday tasks, chores, fix-it requirements (my, how things break!), cleanups, scrubbings -- none of this is interesting to write/read about and yet, at the end of the day, so many minutes are devoted to them that it boggles the mind. Where did all that time go to? Farmette and daily life management, that's where. You may be efficient, spry and focused. You still need the time for it all.
(Good morning, cats! Dance stretches, Dark Blue Indigo Tuxedo -- everyone calls her something else -- waits.)
But the day is not defined by this stuff. When I think back to this brilliantly sunny Saturday, what stands out is this (and I write chronologically):
The garden. Looking at it, making mental notes on what needs to be done. Loving the emerging blossoms and the sound of bees and the silent speed flutter of the hummingbirds.
Breakfast. On the porch. Peonies, everywhere peonies. And the fantastically fragrant lilac.
A quick stop at my daughter's home (some kids are still in their pj's; of course they are -- it's a day without the usual boundaries).
(Others are dressed and ready to go!)
(Okay, bathed and set to face the day!)
I pick up my younger girl and Primrose and we head for the farmette. (With a stop for the CSA veggie box, which has something even Ed will let me toss to the compost pile -- cilantro! On the upside, it also has salad greens, spinach, asparagus, broccoli, radishes, arugula and other greens that are secondary in my book, but still fun to incorporate, even if it is very hard to fit everything in the fridge in these days when I'm cooking for nine and produce is so abundant.)
Lunch: cheeper eggs, broccoli, toast and mango with berries. Primrose loves it all!
Sandbox time. Just for a little while. I don't supply the kids with many toys in it -- usually I'm not anxious to have them play there for long. If the sun hits that spot it's too hot, too bright and if the welcome shade moves in, then the bugs come out of hiding. Still, for some fifteen minutes, it's great fun.
Later: her mom is working. Primrose is napping. Grandma is washing groceries, watering parched flowers, feeding the returning little kitten -- Cutie! So happy to see her again (she'd been gone for days)! Last night's howling coyotes and the sound of gunfire had us worried.
And soon after all those kid naps, the Madison family comes over.
It's amazing, really: the wading pool that I had picked up when Snowdrop was just a one year old is so tiny! And yet these three manage to squeeze in and entertain each other with water play for a long long time.
Kids play, I fix dinner. Tacos. I know, I know -- they've become such a staple here. But I got my corn tortillas! We're on!
(Three of my four best girls!)
(Waiting for dessert)
(Yogurt bars and cherries: worth waiting for!)
(Pretty funny!)
Meanwhile, for some inexplicable reason, the robot vacuum cleaner left its home and began its vacuuming work. Ed and Snowdrop are trying to send it back to its base.
Later, much much later, when the moon is bright and beautiful (we had the Strawberry Full Moon yesterday; did you know that?), after the last dish is clean and drying off, I plomp down on the couch and pour myself a glass of Bergerac white. A frugal person's Burgundy! I smell popcorn. With the best images from the day crammed into my head (and into my flickr folder), I can exhale.
I had been thinking during dinner, as the kids were singing and the grownups were clapping, how this scene plays itself out the world over, again and again: the older guys hooting for the next generation. Proud, crazily in love with the little ones' drive, talent, sweetness. It's what we all want: evenings around the table with people we love.
Sigh...
Turn on our British crime drama show, Ed. I hope our inspector's love interest comes around again and they live happily ever after! I mean, why watch a movie if it can't have a movie ending?!
And now it's almost midnight and the next day is about to begin.
