Friday, October 22, 2021


We got close to a frost overnight. Today we may actually hit that crucial marker of the end of the growing season. It's a big moment for me because, in anticipation of this, I have to decide what plants will be over-wintered indoors and which potted ones will be sacrificed. I always tell Ed -- I wouldn't have to do this task if we had a greenhouse. And he always answers -- one more building to maintain? No thanks.

(morning walk)

Bringing plants indoors is only a little satisfying. We do not have enough sunlight (too many trees outside!) to sustain a good blooming habit all winter long. The southern window sill already has geraniums and so there isn't space for more. By late winter anything I bring inside is spindly and barely alive. But once it warms up, I take the plants outside and they get their strength back! The begonias, the rosemary -- they return to their awesome beautiful selves. So this is my task for today: decide! Which three or four should I bring in?

(Breakfast, with a candle that promises to remind me of Catalonia. It doesn't really do that, but it's lovely nonetheless)

I put in several dozen more bulbs. It's going well! Two more weeks of daily planting and I should be done!

(Pretty light of an autumnal morning)

And in the afternoon, Snowdrop is at the farmette again. 

Here, she finds routines that almost never change. I rarely update the toys anymore. Nothing is rearranged. The pantry, which she loves "to raid" has the same foods, the fruit bowl is in the fridge, waiting for her. Books -- I do add new books, but oftentimes she just wants the old ones again. 

(her "raid" revealed a bag of chocolate covered marshmallow bears that I stuck in my bag in Paris...)



Sparrow and Sandpiper, too, will have grown here with that same stability, but the fierce attachment to it all is definitely strongest in the little girl. It's inevitable: as the firstborn, she was here the longest and at a time where I had time only for her.

Still, I expect that any year now things will shift. She's a very social child (as is Sparrow; don't know yet about Sandpiper, but all indications are that he likes kid chaos). The farmette will be a safe harbor, but the tug will come from her expanding group of friends. 


Evening. I bring in the pink begonias. A rosemary. Two orchids. I'll move the strawberry to the garage. The cold snap outside means for us, a snug and cozy inside. How good is that!


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