Saturday, May 21, 2022

the return

It's never fun to leave Chicago. I mean, I can't really gripe -- it took me all of two hours and twenty minutes to drive from my daughter's home to the farmette. Obviously a hiccup of a moment in the scheme of things. But to me, it's far enough that you can't just pop over for a meal together. Or a drink, or cup of coffee. Or an evening of sitting around and poking fun at the ridiculousness of life. Or to put one child or the other to bed while parents move about their tasks in a more relaxed mode. 

Still, I'm there lots of times and, too, they like to drive up to Madison, so our paths do cross and we do have many many wonderful meals and evenings and mornings together. So, once again, I think of myself as exceptionally lucky: two young families, within a reasonable drive of where I live. 

Still, it's never fun to leave Chicago.

This morning for breakfast, my daughter sliced for us two wonderful bakery treats -- a challah bread and a chocolate babka. I love both. I ate both. I savored the moment!

("me too! I savored the smell!")




Of course, Primrose was there, right by my side at the table.




But soon after, I had to leave. A few more words, hugs, and photos, this time not on a timed release, but with the photographic help of my daughter.




She of me, me of her!




Oh yes -- how quickly they all grow...




And now I'm back at the farmette. In my absence, it surely turned lush and yes, very much in need of a "haircut!"




I work all afternoon in the flower fields. Plants, waiting to go in, weeds, always the weeds, encroaching. And as I dig, I think about my daughters: they're such good people, fine moms, and, too, they work hard at finding a professional balance so that they can feel connected to both family life and their work. They manage this better than I did. In fact, they do lots of things better than I did, which is exactly what you want from your grown up kids. It makes me very very proud. 


Evening: it is true that I'm still tracking the day as if I were in Chicago. Seven o'clock? Juniper eats, Primrose squeezes in last minutes of play. I'm wondering what books she'll pick for bedtime reading... 

Transitions take time. Still, Ed is here and we walk the farmette lands, reviewing the trees, the tomatoes, the methods of planting a few strawberries so that no animal can get to them. I scramble cheeper eggs and steam some local asparagus for supper.

And the lilac is still blooming and the clematis flowers are exploding and all's right with our little world.





With so much love...

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