When the Chicago young family comes up for a Madison weekend, if the season is right for it, we always go to the farmers market. No surprise there -- I'd been going to the downtown market since my girls were little and the habit stuck. The kids like it, the grownups like it.
Last summer, of course, there was no traditional market downtown. No one went. We hunkered down and hoped for the best. This year, I tested the market last week. A bit crowded in places, but doable! We'll modify our route and stick to the greens to avoid the snaking stream of people, but it's all definitely doable!
But first, of course, I must tend to the garden. That happens very early. The day is full. I must extend it on both ends!
So what's blooming out there? A whole new batch of day old lilies!
... and harmoniously with them, other flowers.
("take a picture of me!!")
Breakfast.
Okay, market time!
("I am not asleep! It's just that the light is so bright!")
("now I am asleep!")
Meanwhile, back on the farm -- lunch.
(with a treat from Minneapolis... or Norway, if you think about it!)
And a few minutes of quiet time.
In the afternoon, the youngest couple takes off for a little get away. Just the two of them. Primrose stays with me for a farmhouse sleepover.
Over the years, various combinations of grandkids have had sleepovers over here. There is a little lemon bedroom for them and there are always beds available to fit their current size. The sleepover itself follows a pattern.
There is plenty of time outside (on this day I suggest a walk to the playground in the new development; to get there, we must pass that field of black eyed susans).
(It's a given that we also make our way through the farmette flower fields...)
There's plenty of time for play inside.
And of course, we make a pizza for dinner. Primrose is old enough and eager enough and talented enough to take part in all its phases:
Done!
Baked. Quickly. At very high heat.
(Dessert)
We stay up too late and watch a movie (Mamma Mia. She's seen it many times and knows all the songs). With popcorn (she is as big a fan of Ed's popcorn as I am).
It's both quiet and irreverently loud. They do things that perhaps they might not do at home. There has to be an element of the unusual after all. (Watching fireflies out the bathroom window way past her bedtime qualifies, no?)
And at the end of the day, when all is quiet upstairs, I sit back and reflect at how beautiful a day packed with family meals and adventures can be. How so many good memories can be made right at home. And how there is a certain tiredness at the end of a day that comes only if you filled all the hours with good stuff. The best stuff. From the first snipped lily to the moment when your little Primrose says good night.
