It's as if the rain clouds are boycotting where we live. The heat wave passed, some weather front pushed it all away and we have brilliantly cool and sunny days ahead. But we never got a drop of rain.
Needless to say, my morning is spent giving relief to at least some of the flowers. They need the water.
Here's what's still blooming:
Breakfast is very, very late.
I have a bit of straightening and house fussing before me. This day and the next one truly belong to the young family. We've tried to fit in time for some of the things that wont be possible going forward: a sleepover, a longer visit with my daughter, a Sunday farmhouse family dinner. And so I get ready for their visits.
Here's a welcome pause. FaceTime with my Chicago girl! Almost like being in the room with her!
Almost like eating pretend ice cream popsicles together...
Snowdrop and her mom arrive toward evening. Sparrow stays home today. He hasn't yet the sleepover bug. He'll be here tomorrow.
The little girl and her mom take things slowly, leisurely. There's a lot of hanging out, some reading, some lovely play.
There is, of course, the pizza dinner out on the porch...
And a movie (Snowdrop refuses anything new: she just wants a replay of old favorites), popcorn...
A glass of wine, maybe a second, trying to remember all that I want to ask now, to find out still, before everyone gets busy and we have to retreat to socially distanced encounters, outside, separated by some invisible wall that seems to me to be very thick and forbidding.
Photos, videos -- should I take more? Here, at the farmhouse? I want to and yet, I want to not think about that part of our life together that plays itself out on a screen. For now, we have the real deal and it is grand.
Late night for me. Windows open, cool breezes, wistful wishes for a gentle end to summer and most importantly, for a gentle fall and winter for my beloved children and grandchildren.
Needless to say, my morning is spent giving relief to at least some of the flowers. They need the water.
Here's what's still blooming:
Breakfast is very, very late.
I have a bit of straightening and house fussing before me. This day and the next one truly belong to the young family. We've tried to fit in time for some of the things that wont be possible going forward: a sleepover, a longer visit with my daughter, a Sunday farmhouse family dinner. And so I get ready for their visits.
Here's a welcome pause. FaceTime with my Chicago girl! Almost like being in the room with her!
Almost like eating pretend ice cream popsicles together...
Snowdrop and her mom arrive toward evening. Sparrow stays home today. He hasn't yet the sleepover bug. He'll be here tomorrow.
The little girl and her mom take things slowly, leisurely. There's a lot of hanging out, some reading, some lovely play.
There is, of course, the pizza dinner out on the porch...
And a movie (Snowdrop refuses anything new: she just wants a replay of old favorites), popcorn...
A glass of wine, maybe a second, trying to remember all that I want to ask now, to find out still, before everyone gets busy and we have to retreat to socially distanced encounters, outside, separated by some invisible wall that seems to me to be very thick and forbidding.
Photos, videos -- should I take more? Here, at the farmhouse? I want to and yet, I want to not think about that part of our life together that plays itself out on a screen. For now, we have the real deal and it is grand.
Late night for me. Windows open, cool breezes, wistful wishes for a gentle end to summer and most importantly, for a gentle fall and winter for my beloved children and grandchildren.
