chasing the taco

How far would you go to please your beloved partner, where what they want conflicts with what you yourself would feel good about?

Because no answer to that is a good answer (going too far is not good, but not far enough is even worse), Ed and I typically sidestep the problem by not asking the other to do something they would rather not do. Still, I have heard repeatedly this spring that the whole new forest project was triggered by my prompt to finally plant some trees in the distant reaches of the farmette lands. Not quite "it's your fault that I have to do all this work," but close. I guess I didn't realize I was pushing the project.

Too, I heard repeated comments about tonight being taco night. They were said in that tone that implies that we would have had a nice leisurely evening at home, but no, I wanted to go for fish tacos at the Cider Farm (they were introducing a new rose cider and serving fish tacos outside and I thought that sounded so fun!). I did say -- we don't have to go! He responded -- no no, we'll go. Meaning it will only be a minor bother.

It's a rainy day and indeed, it may well be a rainy week, which I know you think is great because rain tends to cancel out a drought, but the fact is -- too much rain is worse than too little, from the planter's perspective. And excessive rain inevitably will bring out the mosquitoes. Too, it's not fun working outside when it is so wet.

It's not even fun feeding the animals in the morning, though one does get the views of a wet garden and those are, in fact, lovely.

(wet lilies)

(...and peas)

Breakfast is on the porch. No rain there!

And afterwards, well, I know what I have to do: I have to wage war with the weeds. I know the deck is stacked against me, but I fight as if it were a matter of pride and honor rather than because I expect a clean flower bed at the end of the day. Out I go, until I'm wet from pushing around rain drenched plants and my shoes slosh and my dress, put on for the expected evening out on the Cider Farm patio, is clinging to my legs and dripping with its own rain drops. Or maybe it's sweat? We are having a mini heat bath out there right now.

Inside again I glance at my emails: one of the Cider Farm owners writes to tell me that they decided against fish tacos tonight. They're going with a fish fry. And that just tips the cart for Ed. A good fish fry with lots of sides may have still held his interest, but this would be a longish drive for unknown edibles. I know better than to push it. No fish tacos for us tonight.

Unless...

There is  a good taqueria near us that does, in fact, make quite good fish tacos. And there is this picnic table out in the open fields of the Badfish Creek Wildlife Area that Ed passes weekly on his evening bike ride. And he has this idea... 

And so we pack a picnic bag: tacos from Tapatios included, a margarita thrown in for good measure, cider included, farmette cherries included, two chocolates from the Madison Chocolate shop...

... and we have a taco dinner outside after all. 

And it is stunningly beautiful. And quiet. Just the sound of birds. And the flash of the occasional firefly. Nothing more.