the day after

A trip has three parts to it: the planning and anticipating, the actual day by day experience, and finally -- the thoughts that follow after. I like all three. They're all important and they all take time. I'm cycling through the third right now.

A grandchild-grandparent trip is a rare bird these days. Though Snowdrop told me that she knows a number of kids who are really close to their grandparents, nonetheless, the standard deal is to visit the grands (either old ones come to young ones, or young ones go to old ones, with or without parents). By the number of surprised (always sweet) comments I got from people we met during our travels, I gather that this wasn't a combination people are used to seeing out there, great distances from home. 

This doesn't really surprise me. Parents are older these days, which means that grandparents are older. Keeping a youngster happy and busy while abroad is not for those who are gettin' on in years. As Ed told me this afternoon, after planting three more peach trees - gosh, it's getting harder each year to dig those holes! I used to do a whole orchard in one day. Now? Three holes and I'm spent. 

Too, not every child would think this is a fun way to spend spring break. Not sure that Sparrow would vote to travel, over time spent at home with his sibs.  As for my Chicago grandgirls -- there we have two parents who are enthusiastic travelers themselves. I know they would want to tag along on any trip the girls took to interesting places. (Are you curious how those two grandgirls are doing? Me too! Here's a peak, from today's FaceTime call!)

One takeaway is that there is no cookie cutter pattern to follow for everyone. You can't just decide you want to do this and expect it will all fall into place exactly as you see it. Even with Snowdrop, whom I see nearly every day of her life (and so she's no stranger to me, to say the least), I was, for a long time, very tentative about the trip. Only because she, her parents and Ed were all so enthusiastic about it, did I finally decide that the time was right -- for her and for me.

And of course, because it was so rich in experiences, both Snowdrop and I learned a ton -- about each other, about ourselves. Her mom's first text comment upon her return yesterday -- where did my little girl go? she seems close to twice her age!  (Interestingly it's the reverse for a grandma -- after a trip with a young child, I feel less old than when I left!)

What would have I done differently? Oh, not much, really. You have to keep trying this and that to figure out what fits, but sometimes even the misfits are fun to work through. I'm not sure Snowdrop really figured out the singular significance of the veggie island of Venice (Sant Erasmo), but as we walked its paths on a rather gloomy, misty, eerily magical day that afternoon with Martina, and the little girl ran around picking dandelions while I tried to explain to Martina why dandelions are actually not popular with Americans (she just didn't get it), I thought -- this is a uniquely beautiful moment.

There is a spillover effect of a trip: I hope after spending all this time with just one grandchild, I'm actually a much better grandma to all of them. You get closer to that young soul when you walk hand in hand with one for days on end. You get out of your old person's rut and start seeing things as they see them. You grow more patient. (Snowdrop asked me if I ever get impatient, since I don't usually show much anxiety about stuff in front of her or the other grands. I laughed at that and told her when we come back, she should ask Ed!)

I'll just add that there's a lot of handholding when you travel with a child. And it's not only that you hold hers to guide her along. She holds yours to let you know that being there with you is a good thing. 

 

Meanwhile, back on the farm...

I'm still stunned how little green I'm seeing out there. A patch of cereal rye (a cover crop we used last fall), that's all.

(the new peach orchard)

The daffodils are shooting up but nothing is near the blooming stage yet.

At breakfast, there's much to review. In a few weeks, I'll be in my busiest period outside. For now, I'm just waiting for a warm up!

(Though we do take the time for a walk in our local park. So brown! The world is still so brown!)

Many people come back from a trip inspired to cook with greater care and imagination when they get home. What do Ed and I have for dinner tonight? Leftover frozen pizza. It doesn't get lower than that! Tomorrow. I'll return to kitchen duty tomorrow. For now, let's just say I have jet lag!

Yaaaawn! And good night.