My day here, at the farmette, can be summarized thus: sunshine, weeds, horseflies, weeds, horseflies, hot sun, fruits, Snowdrop, collapse over a frittata.
I knew the rains would create havoc in my flower beds and so I was ready for the worst. I'm out early with hand shovel, clippers and bucket. I start with some transplanting because some lilies had grown to be so dense that they threatened all existence within their immediate perimeters. Stuff had to be moved.
I do not notice the horseflies. There is the occasional telltale buzz, but this horrid strand is mostly silent. And oh, do they bite. Big welts on my arms and legs are there to demonstrate their noxiousness.
Ed asks me -- did you at least swat them dead?
No, I did not notice them until it was too late!
You mean you let them go off and feed the next generation on your blood? You should have curly hair like me. It traps them.
The man has no sympathy.
(Happy! Get off of the flower bed!)
By breakfast time, I had weeded the Big Bed. Meaning breakfast is very late: close to noon. But oh, what a breakfast! Mid-June begins my most beloved fruit season. My favorites appear and stay with us for about a month. Everything that I love: berries, of course. Cherries. Peaches (admittedly, from states to the south of us, but they are magnificent!). It's all so abundant and fresh! (One for me, one for Ed, one for Snowdrop. And an extra peach for Ed. Well, Snowdrop asks for another too. We go through a lot of peaches on this first day of this sweet and juicy fruit!)
More work in the now hot sun. I don't even pause for lunch. Weed, dig, transplant, horseflies. Mosquitoes aren't especially drawn to me, but I seem to be a Michelin starred meal for horseflies.
I am very glad that Snowdrop's arrival puts an end to the toil. (But I do have a sense of accomplishment! Some of the beds are looking good again.)
Snowdrop had had her fill of outdoor play in the morning and is ready to settle into her usual routines here. Chapter book over a bowl of fruits!
Ed adds watermelon to her heaping bowl. I'm thinking -- two months ago it was snowing outside and now the fruit season is fully upon us. It's all rather overwhelming...
I do have a task for the two of us: I volunteered to supply flowers for my older girl's wedding gift for a friend who is getting married tomorrow. The friend can't have guests present, but she will have flowers. Snowdrop loves this assignment, even though this really is a tough week for bloom clipping: spring flowers are nearly done and summer hasn't yet begun. Still, we do okay!
Evening. I take Snowdrop home.
(Someone's cooking supper!)
(Someone else is climbing away!)
It's the last day of a hodgepodge schedule of childcare. Next week we're moving to something different: gaga's summer school. To keep the kids out of their usual school for several more months, I offered to up the babysitting for both of them. They'll be with me every morning until after lunch. But today we're still hanging on to happy memories of Primrose's visit and so we're only slowly transitioning to something more structured.
Home. Farmhouse home. Time to roll out a frittata again. Last batch of fresh spinach, cheeper eggs and a handful of pretty ancient mushrooms. And cheese.
I knew the rains would create havoc in my flower beds and so I was ready for the worst. I'm out early with hand shovel, clippers and bucket. I start with some transplanting because some lilies had grown to be so dense that they threatened all existence within their immediate perimeters. Stuff had to be moved.
I do not notice the horseflies. There is the occasional telltale buzz, but this horrid strand is mostly silent. And oh, do they bite. Big welts on my arms and legs are there to demonstrate their noxiousness.
Ed asks me -- did you at least swat them dead?
No, I did not notice them until it was too late!
You mean you let them go off and feed the next generation on your blood? You should have curly hair like me. It traps them.
The man has no sympathy.
(Happy! Get off of the flower bed!)
By breakfast time, I had weeded the Big Bed. Meaning breakfast is very late: close to noon. But oh, what a breakfast! Mid-June begins my most beloved fruit season. My favorites appear and stay with us for about a month. Everything that I love: berries, of course. Cherries. Peaches (admittedly, from states to the south of us, but they are magnificent!). It's all so abundant and fresh! (One for me, one for Ed, one for Snowdrop. And an extra peach for Ed. Well, Snowdrop asks for another too. We go through a lot of peaches on this first day of this sweet and juicy fruit!)
More work in the now hot sun. I don't even pause for lunch. Weed, dig, transplant, horseflies. Mosquitoes aren't especially drawn to me, but I seem to be a Michelin starred meal for horseflies.
I am very glad that Snowdrop's arrival puts an end to the toil. (But I do have a sense of accomplishment! Some of the beds are looking good again.)
Snowdrop had had her fill of outdoor play in the morning and is ready to settle into her usual routines here. Chapter book over a bowl of fruits!
Ed adds watermelon to her heaping bowl. I'm thinking -- two months ago it was snowing outside and now the fruit season is fully upon us. It's all rather overwhelming...
I do have a task for the two of us: I volunteered to supply flowers for my older girl's wedding gift for a friend who is getting married tomorrow. The friend can't have guests present, but she will have flowers. Snowdrop loves this assignment, even though this really is a tough week for bloom clipping: spring flowers are nearly done and summer hasn't yet begun. Still, we do okay!
Evening. I take Snowdrop home.
(Someone's cooking supper!)
(Someone else is climbing away!)
It's the last day of a hodgepodge schedule of childcare. Next week we're moving to something different: gaga's summer school. To keep the kids out of their usual school for several more months, I offered to up the babysitting for both of them. They'll be with me every morning until after lunch. But today we're still hanging on to happy memories of Primrose's visit and so we're only slowly transitioning to something more structured.
Home. Farmhouse home. Time to roll out a frittata again. Last batch of fresh spinach, cheeper eggs and a handful of pretty ancient mushrooms. And cheese.
