a cooldown

No, it's not chilly outside. The clouds rolled in, but the temps remained unseasonably warm. The daffodils are in their prime.

 

But at the farmhouse, I sense a real cooling of the jets. We came close to finally doing something productive and environmentally friendly with the back acre of farmette land. A forest. Such a fine idea! Perhaps a little late in our life -- after all, what one footer is going to grow past my height in my lifetime, but still, it was a good way to ensure that there would be trees and the weeds would have healthy competition. 

The stumbling block is that the project manager (Ed) cannot move quickly on brazen ideas. And computers have slowed him down even more, because he has to read everything on any matter before moving forward. And because the planting time is right now, and nursery supplies were running thin (Nina, did you know we could have ordered the trees from the Department of Natural Resources? I hadn't known that!), there isn't the time that the guy needs to proceed with implementing the forest plan. Heck, my sweetie can't finish fixing the base wall of the sheep shed because he has to contemplate possible solutions to the crumbling wall. And remember how long it took him to finally agree to a plan to fix the front entrance to the farmhouse? All those years of rotted steps -- he wouldn't budge because no idea on how to proceed fully appealed to him.

So at breakfast today (outside, because it really is warm enough for it)... 

 

 

 

... I told him -- let's forget about the forest. It's really not fun to work with him on a project when you know he is in psychic pain every step of the way. It's like traveling -- you sense the gloom. You don't want to be doing something with someone whose attitude exudes weariness.

What happens then to that acre of weedy land? Nothing much, unfortunately. Ed suggested we aim for next year. I laughed, which is the equivalent of rolling your eyes.

My April is now going to be focused on the grandkids, the garden, and on trying to move my mom to a different residence. 

And speaking of grandkids, here are two of them!

(The spring flowers are never too far away...)

(He is "telling a story." She has that look of benevolent indulgence, liking his effort, even as it is the effort of a two year old who wants so much to be like his six year old sister.)

(Today she also discovers the joy of tree climbing... He tries it, but very quickly asks to be placed on more solid ground.)

(We haven't done a timed release selfie in a long time!

The day does have an element of the extravagant: for the first time since last February, I meet up, face to face with a friend. I cannot believe we are not on Zoom! She is (finally!) in town to visit her parents and since we are both vaccinated, we set aside a piece of the afternoon for a coffee.

Fourteen months without coffees with friends. And at least the "no cafe visits" record remains in place: every cafe in the area is closed. We sit outside pretending we're at a cafe sipping coffee.

So weird to be back in that particular saddle again! But of course, I had many decades of cafe life with friends before the pandemic, so sitting down with her (unmasked, but outside) feels like there was no year without friends at all. It feels normal. 

When I return to the farmhouse, Ed tells me -- I've talked to another guy to see what he can tell us about clearing the land for planting. I nod, with mild interest. That is so Ed -- pack it away, cool it down, then slowly reconsider.

So are we planting a forest? Who knows. Probably not. Or maybe yes, but only if the stars align themselves just exactly so for us this spring.