Saturday

You know, on this last day of April, with mostly cloudy skies and occasional rain, indeed, with storms and even a threat of severe storms, it really is very pretty out there! How can you not feel grand when the tree buds are so plump, when day after day, color saturates the landscape, when night frost is kicked out and the soil warms and the perennials push through and the daffodils? Definitely out in full force, scattered in nearly every farmette flower field.

It is a busy day here for me. I have a baked goods craving, and I consider whipping something up for breakfast munching, but time is a little precious, so instead, I drive over to the bakery and come back with an assortment of croissants and morning buns and chocolate babkas.

The kids come over then...

And we stay indoors because there is that threat of rain and besides, each child has a story to tell (Sparrow isn't always in a story mood, but quite often, I hear two parallel voices spinning tales out there in the playroom). And there's lunch to eat and there are books to read. We go for a common denominator -- not hard at all, as there are a number of books both kids enjoy.

(In leaving, she says -- "I'll race you!' This is a recipe for a total Sparrow upset. I tell him that in a few years, the upset may well be hers.)

In the afternoon, I chase the good weather. When it's not raining, I fix a couple of more pots and tubs and stick in the penstemon I had purchased for one of the beds.

(Ed takes out the trays of tomatoes and fusses with them outside.)

When the rain does come down, I unpack the lavender that arrived and is, for now, waiting in the mudroom. I am not 100% sure how to plant it (or rather how to protect the field from horrific weeds that grow behind the barn), which, I know, is a bit crazy, given that I have some 50 plants that are ready and waiting to go in, but I'm putting all this off until tomorrow. Today I'm still pulling weeds (everywhere!) and putting in annuals.

And when the rain continues to pelt the roof (such a lovely, rhythmic sound, don't you think?) I give in to the sleepiness of the moment and take that wonderful retired person's pleasure -- a late afternoon nap. 

Sure, we're really behind in our gardening. But everything is moving along nicely now and hey, we really are on the cusp of May already,  with its bounty of pinks and blues and yellows. Do you even remember how monochromatic my photos were from just a couple of weeks ago? Well now, not any more!

No, not any more.

Friday

Our CSA farmers sent us a message -- things are growing very slowly this year. My eye doc, whom I saw in the wee hours of the morning, tells me that's all anyone ever talks to her about -- the weather. The flower growing farmers tut tut tut as they close doors to their greenhouses to keep the cold wind out. The shoppers aren't coming yet. We who dare face off with the weather, zip up our jackets and clench the jaw and hope for the best.

It's a very challenging early growing season.

On the flip side, the Wisconsin maple sugar tappers are rejoicing. The cold spring has made for a longer sap flow and a more intense syrup flavor. The money is definitely in maple syrup this year! In our home, Ed is the maple syrup guy. I'm the honey person. (He is the only one I know who routinely drizzles syrup over his oatmeal in the morning.)

And it is getting warmer. Very slowly but very surely.

I finish up my plant purchasing at Natalie's and Kopke's (both are local growers just up the road from us), realizing that now I have to actually go outside, cloudy skies not withstanding, and plant the stuff! Uff! 

Nine tubs filled, some umpteen more to go! 

(Oh great. The cheepers have discovered my white alyssum -- their favorite flower to munch on!)

I break for Snowdrop, who comes running out of school to show me her art class paper mache bug. Do you remember paper mache from school? I do! Long strips of torn newspaper, dipped in some mixture of flour and water. We called it rabbit snot! -- she tells me. Kids these days!

A meditative pause before we come into the farmhouse...

Once inside, we get lost in a book we read together. Cover to cover. All chapters. Can't put it down. It never ceases to amaze me how good children's fiction can be. Honestly, I think it just gets better and better. There are times when I want to dabble in writing stories for young ones. Then I hit another great one and I back off. It's a little like all your life you wanted to be a baker and then you go to Paris and visit a few pastry shops and say to yourself -- maybe not!

Evening. The cats are on the porch. It's warm enough for them to want to be outside and of course, it's dry where they are. Beyond their sheltered space it's raining. We'll have four days of this -- just warm enough to call it a full blown spring, but with periods of rain. Planting is put on hold once again. Well, I got a start in April. The new day lilies are in, a few of the tubs are planted. May will be a very busy catch up month!

Thursday

On the upside, this is it: the day that annuals can be planted. I have mild trepidation, because of course, before mid-May, anything can still happen. A mean wind from the north could destroy a crop of flowers. But looking ahead at the forecast, I think it's not likely. And so I take out all that I lugged into the kitchen and I put on my agenda for the day the purchasing of tub blooms. Yes! Finally. Instant color, by this weekend.

On the downside, we're not getting that string of sunny days that would give a boost to everything that's already in the ground. Cloudy, with a chance of rain. Like Scotland, only less variable. 

But this isn't what starts my day: first, I have to take a picture of myself. I need it for my Great Writing Project. Now, any of my kids, or even some of my grandkids, to say nothing of Ed, would happily, happily do this for me, but I don't want to tax anyone's patience with my fussiness and so I do it myself. In the kitchen, with the self timer. It is a funny handful of minutes. Lots of running back and forth. Lots of retakes. Finally, something that "will do." And no, you don't get to see it. Unless you buy the book. I'll let you know when!

The walk to the barn? Oh, fine. Still not exactly a crowd, a host of daffodils (...) fluttering dancing in the breeze (Wordsworth), but enough now to give some color to the landscape.

Breakfast? Well, I'm trying to reinterpret it here at the farmhouse. Ed has fallen into a schedule that just does not work for me. He's up too late. Yes, I can wake him for breakfast, but it seems unnecessary and unkind. So I eat alone.

And then he complains that I didn't call him down for it. You can't win!

I have a lot of small and large details to attend to. A call with my Polish friends to finalize a meet up this early fall. An appointment to check off one of those things you regularly need to check off. A delivery of some treats for the young family kids. And then, finally, a trip to pick up some annuals.

This is both exciting and frustrating. The garden center is empty because no one (except for me) wants to pick out annuals when it is just 47F (8C) outside. Still, I need to do several trips (my car cant hold everything I need) and so I may as well start today. Planting will move full steam ahead starting tomorrow.  Gazillions of seeds, a whole lavender patch, and the dozen (more?) tubs -- all getting their season's stock, late and in borderline weather, but in they will go. I am determined!

 

 

In the late afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop. Not at school today and we did have a cut in our farmhouse time, but she insisted that short is better than nothing at all, so here she is... 

 

 

 

... settling into her usual!

And boom! Day is done.

Honestly, I don't know how a day can have so few hours. I should be strolling mindlessly through the garden, or reading my book, and working on my next project. Instead, I'm zipping from one task to the next, like someone who is about to take off on a year long trip and needs to get her house and life in order before heading out.

All this is just fine, of course. We go about our business, doing stuff we love, in peace and tranquility. How good is that!

With love...

Wednesday

Why do we have such a strong attachments to trivial habits? Why, for instance, am I incapable of buying flowers in even numbers? In Poland, it was absolutely essential to always purchase an odd number. Three roses, seven tulips, 1 carnation. But why have I carried this habit over here, so that I cannot imagine buying an even number of blooms for my daughter's table? It has to be odd, or else! (Or else what?)

(Breakfast with Primrose...)

(hey, how about me? I can't eat granola, but I sure like to keep you company!)

I'm in Chicago just for the half day. The mom is back at work, the dad is taking the older girl in for a check up, I'm with the babe. And of course, it's a school day, so after her check up, this big girl will be heading out to school.

Two sisters, each following her path on this beautiful if a bit chilly spring day.

Oh, and speaking of habits, is there ever a visit where I do not take this timed release selfie with the big girl?

How full of smiles and giggles she is! I have grandchildren whose default expression is one of joy, at the smallest thing.

(Me too! You should see me laugh when mom or dad blow soft puffs of air on my forehead!)

Yes, a happy babe with a sweet and gentle disposition. 

(Mom breaks for lunch with me and for a fleeting check-in with Juniper)

It's a short visit for me this time, but a longer one is coming up in a few weeks, when both parents will have resumed work and the day care has not yet started for Juniper. Like her sister, she'll start "school" when she is just shy of six months. How fortunate these kids are to have it all -- great parents, good schools, and all the joys of each season right there before them!

(Or, am I the one who is endlessly fortunate? Like the woman in Japan who lived until her 117 birthday, celebrating her small passions every day -- in her case, a love of chocolate and coca-cola. I have my share of wee passions, that's for sure, though some of them are growing up to be big kids pretty fast!)

Home again tonight. Plants are still indoors, safe from tonight's hovering temperatures, right near the freezing point. So, instead of gardening thoughts, I have grandkid thoughts. Beautiful and warm grandkid thoughts.

With so much love...

Tuesday

Time to drive down to Chicago. Kids and especially babies grow fast. You blink an eye and they're no longer newborns, but grinning broadly at your silly face. Or sitting up. Or moving into their college dorm room. I pack my bag for a visit before they're out the door!

I could not have picked a better spring day for it. Meaning -- I cannot do a thing in the farmette flower beds. I'm stuck waiting for the bitter cold air to pass through. 

And so soon after breakfast, I get into Blue Moon and head "south." And it does feel like I've gone south. Spring is at a far more advanced point in Chicago!

Primrose and Juniper (one girl is 4 years the other girl is 4 months) have grown a lot since my last trip to see them in late March. And that growth is measured in ways other than mere size: they have had a spectacular road trip vacation, which of course, means they have raked in new experiences and tasted new foods and breathed mountain air and smelled early spring flowers -- something we're still waiting for here, in the upper Midwest. 

But of course, the core remains what it was: solid sweetness, clever game play, excitement at everything that the new day generates!

First, a quick visit with Juniper:

You know, the girl with the eyes filled with amazement...

Next, I walk over to pick up Primrose at school...

We have our own dedicated playtime at home.

In the meantime, Juniper watches, happiest when family activities are close to her. In her own way, she participates.

We have a lovely birthday dinner. Whose birthday? Well, mine!

A feast of a trip! In all ways.

With so much love... 

Monday

A people day: morning with friends, afternoon with Snowdrop. Evening with Ed, though that shouldn't count -- we can go a long time without provocative conversation!

A quick morning walk, a bowl of fruit, cut up for later.

And a rush to a coffee shop to have coffee with my friend who flew into town for a few days. I wish I could say that we were completely silly and inconsequential in our time together. But, being good friends, indeed, great friends, sometimes requires something more. So we shared that something more -- the issues facing her, facing me. You know, the usual stuff that needs a review and sometimes input (but mostly a lot of good listening).

And from downtown Madison, I hurry back home, so that I can connect with Warsaw (on Zoom).

This, too, cannot be lighthearted. I caught the short-lived breezy cheesy moment here:

 

Fact is, it's just not a time in history where you can brush aside the events of the day and plunge into the inconsequential. We review what's happening in the Ukraine, and importantly, what is happening in Russia. None of it is good. And still, it needs to be talked about, if only for the shared experience of comparing stories, readings, our understanding of this moment in time.

After a couple of hours, I have to take off, almost in midsentence. Even though Monday is typically not a Snowdrop day, this week is different and so the little girl comes home with me after school.

Seeing the flowers outside reminds her of Giverny and, too, paintings of flowers, because she has me reading a book about Impressionism.

 

 

 

I wish we were going to Paris again -- she tells me. I ask her -- what is it about Paris that draws you to it? I'm wondering -- is the art? The parks? The baguettes?

Oh, I so want to go back to the amusement park there!

She is a seven year old, that's for sure.

 

After this unusually peopled day (it's cold outside -- no garden work today or for the next handful of days), Ed and I settle into our evening quiet. We're finishing up a series that has been exceptionally pleasant to watch. Ed found the shows on Tubi and they're called The House that 100 k Built.  We're back in the UK and this time we watch people with limited funds (always less than 100 000 pounds) build houses of their dreams. We love it for its simplicity and clever use of materials. Small, uncomplicated, but, too, unique and eye catching. And always well suited to the landscape. 

And outside, the winds howl and the temperatures once again dip below freezing. All annuals are carried into our kitchen. We're waiting out this period of spring cold together! Strength in numbers!

With love...

 

 

Sunday

It's become almost a truism to say that negative emotions are the triggers for change. In other words, there's a positive in the negative. It pulls you out of a rut. To be graphic about it -- if you're stuck in a mud hole, you're not going to throw up your hands and say -- oh well, this sucks. You're going to try to get out and spend the night instead in your warm comfy bed, head resting on a soft pillow. And you'll take a different path next time. That is, if you get out alive.

See, this is the other truism that could be floated: a mishap will make you stronger, if it wont knock you down flat. But it's not as if you long for mishaps to happen, just so you can feel your strength. You don't want to spend a night or two in a mud hole, no matter how strong you may feel afterwards.

(This, of course, is a matter of opinion. Ed, for example, would disagree. No mud hole? No mishaps? May as well stay home.)

I was thinking about this as we face another brilliant day, where positive feelings tumble one after another. It wont be quite as hot as yesterday, but still, it's warm enough. Short sleeve weather!

My first job is to pick up some baked goods at Bloom Bakery. This is a new visit for me. I've been stuck on Batch and Madison Sourdough for years now and I hardly notice the appearance of this new kid on the Monroe Street block. There was a family proclamation that there should be a birthday cake for dinner tonight and so I preordered one at Bloom's. 

I was pleased that Bloom's was very crowded this Sunday morning. I like the fact that Madisonians care about their baked goods. Bloom's is a mere 12 minute drive from our house, and I quickly decided that I should come here more often -- it had that feel of a special place, with all the smells of a really good kitchen.

It's windy today and so I opted for breakfast indoors. With Bloom croissants and pain au chocolat. 

A delicious plate of treats! A magnificent discovery.

And now you see the creeping in of that word from yesterday -- magnificent. Soon to be followed by beautiful (because it really is a beautiful day) and splendid, and I bet more than anything -- sublime. Am I amassing too many good feelings these days? Does spring keep you rooted in place, because so much of it is so good, you don't want to risk upsetting the applecart? 

I dont think so. We've had so many bad weather days and pandemic days and worried days this year that I think we deserve to coast with the superlatives for a while. 

And so we revel in the magnificent: we go outside, look around at all that's suddenly exploding in our yard and think -- what's there not to love!

In the evening, the young family is here.

... for dinner, and for cake of course. Lemon today. Light and airy. Sort of like the vision in my right eye!

Happy birthday celebrating indeed! Oh, and happy election results in France today. What a splendid week! Yep. Simply sublime!!

With love...