To the city

My frequent switch from country to city, then back again to farmette lands reminds me a little of a TV sitcom. The contrasts are so great that it all lends itself to humorous commentary (think: Green Acres). One minute you're furiously cutting back rhubarb which is threatening to take over an entire field of lilies (we did that, then put out a sign by the road...)

 

... the next -- you're checking into a tres cute little pied a terre (more accurately -- under the terre, as it's only halfway above ground), where you'll be spending the week, because the young urban family needs you to help out with baby Juniper.

In the morning, I'm chasing chickens...

In the evening, I'm sipping a glass of wine in the young family's home which happens to be walking distance to an elevated train stop (the L) and really close to a lovely store that sells delicious chocolate covered caramels.

The thing is, I love to live in the country, but I do also love visiting what was once my turf -- city streets, with all their bakeries and cafes and little shops and pot holes and urban noises and people not saying "hi" when they pass you on the street. Living in contrasting spaces is good for you. 

 

Morning, however, is still at the farmette: it's beautiful outside. All lilac and crab apple and lilac and emerging yellow iris and lilac. A splendid show. Truly at its peak.

Then the basement floods. 

How many times has the curly willow pushed its roots into the pipes running from the farmhouse? Too many to mention. In the past, Ed has left the task of unplugging the blockage to the rooter guy. But recently he picked up a pipe cleaning machine to do the job himself and so now, instead of planting trees, he's down in the basement doing stuff I'd rather not know about.

Success! -- he tells me.

We eat breakfast.

And now he goes off to plant...

... and I get into the car and two and a half hours later, I'm in the city.

I dump my bags and head over to my daughter's home. Hello Juniper! So, you're five months old already! And hello, Primrose! I cannot believe you can carry that little sister already! 

(This is what love looks like...)

It's a special time -- we celebrate Mother's Day with a home cooked meal of gnocchi primavera (so many delicious signs of spring in it!) and and a mother daughter baked lemon pie. Yummy stuff!

And great company. Eating dinner at daughters' houses can be habit forming!

I shouldn't linger, but I do. To play with Primrose. And then to catch up with the two grownups. 

And in the meantime Ed calls and asks whether to put the chestnut next to the maple, or the walnut nextt to the other walnut and I get a whiff of our country issues right here in Chicago. Oh, and I brought a bag of popcorn with me just in case I missed our evening routines too much, though really, I'm too full of pie and good moments with the young family to want to tear into it tonight.

With so much love...