from Chicago

Morning in Chicago. Being a farmette person, I am now very attached to my country habits. Weed plucking, chicken feeding, pear picking. Groaning about the unreasonably large number of melons coming from that one baby plant we picked up for $1.29. (You can only eat so many melons before they start reminding you of motel and conference breakfasts.) Still, every once in a while and only in select places, I love to get my city fix. The neighborhood where my younger girl lives gives me just enough of all that I like about an urban walk: great bakeries to poke into, cafes to pause at, and unaffordable but oh so attractive other shops to stare into. I have a chance to do just that this morning.

I'm up at my usual hour, which happens to also be the girls' waking hour. I join Primrose for breakfast: we have our favorite, at least when I'm around -- granola with yogurt and a variety of fruits.

Everyone disperses by 8, but before that, there's time for a little art work! 

And sister watching.

And there's even time for a (rushed) selfie on a timed release!

But eventually, work and school beckon. One parent catches a train to her office, another parent drops Primrose at school and I'm charged with taking Juniper to her school.

It's a lovely walk actually. The neighborhood is quiet and very green and the warm sun today makes me think that my fleece jacket is very unnecessary. The little one has always liked her stroller walks and by this age, she actively takes in all that we pass. Makes me want to sing. (So I do!)

The drop off at school is smooth and easy and I am now on my own, in the city. With time to take a walk. And time to think about the utter wonderfulness of the visit!

And of course I want to check out the newest bakery in the neighborhood. Mindy's Bakery. Don't trust my photo, which is from behind the glass and therefore awful. 

Look at their website here to make your mouth water. I "only" bought a few bagels, a croissant or two, a strudel, and a danish. Enough to tide me over until tomorrow! [Mindy herself has the coveted James Beard award for Outstanding Pastry Chef, so she is no newcomer to baked goods. Me, I love the variety here! We have, by now, quite good croissants and pains au chocolat in Madison. But the buck seems to have stopped there.  Mindy and her staff push boundaries and bring in baking traditions that go well beyond what you'd find in Paris.]

Eventually I finish my walk and head home. It's good to drive in or out of the city before the day starts winding down. The traffic is inconsequential earlier in the day. Too, I want to get back with time to help Ed do the clean up of the cutdown tree branches.

Except we don't do any of that. Why? Because we have something that has been nearly absent all summer long: mosquitoes! Unbelievable! 

So now you'll find me wishing for that first frost! We may get it by the end of next week. 

We are ready for it!

to Chicago

Call this a quick break in routines: I'm off to Chicago, to be with the two little girls while their parents attend something or other this evening.

So of course I'm up early. Misty morning, pretty skies, but cold! 

Our CSA farmers wrote that they are expecting frost (which would put an end to the tomato season and, too, would take out the flowers from the remaining farmers markets). We didn't quite get that low at the farmette, but we hovered nearby! 

For now, our annuals are still with us... 

... and I even caught a day lily trying hard to appear lovely and summer-like!

The phone woke Ed and so I got to have him at the kitchen table, even at this ungodly (for him) hour. 

To make his point about keeping ideas about safety in perspective, he reminded me again that the most dangerous thing we do in our days is drive cars. And so he tells me -- let's fill out our absentee ballots before you hit the road. 

You'll mail mine even if I crash, wont you?

No! we'll mail them before there's a chance of that!

We take voting integrity seriously alright! We do everything by the book,  avoiding even the appearance of impropriety! 

Ed! Sign legibly!

But I never sign anything legibly. It has to be close to my regular signature.

Okay....

I'm off.

My goal is to be in Chicago in time for lunch with my daughter. Traffic is light, the music in the car is good, I make it in time to sit down with her at noon!

And in the late afternoon, we pick up Primrose. I am, of course, a picker-upper in Madison, but this pickup is so different: Primrose is attending a big city school, close to downtown Chicago and, too, it covers all grades, so I see her coming out as high schoolers mingle at the entry way. Primrose took no time to get used to this. She doesn't give it a second's thought.

At home now. 

Parents go out, she and I do art together. And then it's time for the two of us to pick up her sister. We do a small detour to Olivia's (a neighborhood grocery store). I should remember not to take a hungry child into a grocery store. ("Can we get jelly beans? Please! I never had any! How about Pirate Booty? Please!) 

We come into Juniper's school and it is like a reunion, in that many of the teachers remember Primrose from her early years there. Juniper herself is somewhat puzzled to see me. I don't know that she has been picked up by anyone aside from her parents before. Still, she gives a tentative smile of recognition...

And is further reassured to see Primrose with me.

At home, she reminds me that things have changed since my last visit back in August. She moves around now. On her own. Oh-oh....

Primrose is super protective, positioning herself at the the stairs so that Juniper doesn't go in that direction.  Yeah, we have a roving toddler on our hands! Best to get her in her high chair. Dinner is a great distraction.

Tortellini and broccoli for the youngest among us.

Thai buns for her big sister.

And for dessert? More broccoli for Juniper, who doesn't know that this does not really qualify as dessert at anyone's dinner table.

The rest of us opt for more traditional post dinner treats.

It is abundantly clear that Juniper is now ready for bed. While I go through those routines with her, I park Primrose in front of her current favorite movie (Robin Hood). This is perhaps not a great plan for a school night, but Juniper does require some quiet one on one time. Juniper is content, Primrose is content and thus grandma is content.

I do finally get the big girl to bed and as I sit back and think about the day I have to smile: Juniper is now 4.5 and her sister, the youngest of all my grandchildren, is rapidly approaching her first birthday. Such a beautiful age for both! Sweetly loving, oblivious still to newspaper headlines, to the grumpiness of others, ready to engage, to hug, to return that smile.

With so much love...

known dangers

Things you think are dangerous oftentimes turn out to be quite tame. On the other hand, things that cause less worry may knock you down with such force you wont even know what hit you.

That's one of those thoughts I keep in my head when I know we are engaged in so called dangerous activities. Me, washing down the glass roof, Ed chopping down trees. So I am not totally concerned when he makes this deal with a guy who owns a cherry picker, aka an aerial work platform ("AWP"). This machine was broken and Ed offered to fix it for its owner in exchange for a one day's loan. We have a number of trees (a GREAT number in my opinion) that are huge and that have limbs hanging over places that would be damaged should they snap and come down. One tree of particular concern is the big willow that towers over our driveway.

Willow branches snap routinely. So far they have caused no damage, but some of them are directly over our parking space. Crash! No more snazzy Blue Moon car. 

Today, the AWP owner finally found the time to come over and set up the machine so that Ed could saw off branches from the monster tree. 

(but first, my morning farmette walk)

Because of the planned tree work, Ed is up almost as early as I am! Breakfast together.

And then he's out and the two guys (who probably have the combined age of over one and a half centuries) start the work.

And guess what! No one sawed off anyone's arm or leg and no one fell off the AWP and now we have a trimmed tree. I had suggested taking the whole top half off. Ed didn't quite go that far, but he did at least remove some of the heavier offending branches.

On the other hand, the expected Hurricane Ian dangers came to pass as...  expected. My friends, I hope, are safe, but that's all I can say that's good about the situation in Venice, where they live.

So now to tamer topics. Mellow, gentle kind.

I pick up the girl at school and bring her to the farmette just as the AWP is being hauled away. She would sooooo love a ride up in it, but we are firm. Climb in if you want, but the machine is staying low.

Ah well, it's a beautiful autumnal day for prancing!

We do have some time at the farmhouse, but not terribly long. We have a date! My daughter suggested a late afternoon cafe pause and she and I invited Snowdrop to join us.

(for Snowdrop, to be invited into a conversation between mom and gogs? -- heaven.)

I noted yesterday how deliberate you have to be in finding good moments to talk, beyond the usual exchanges of a day's events. These times with either daughter are always special. And here's a bonus for me -- I get two days in a row of daughters: tomorrow I'm to have lunch with my Chicago girl.

How good is that...

Now if only Ian hadn't been so... predictably damaging!

With love...

captive audience

I suppose one reason I like breakfasts with Ed is that I am then his captive audience and he is mine. You'd think this is a ridiculous and inconsequential benefit, given that we are in the same space most of the day, but the fact is, he gets lost in his stuff and I in mine. At the kitchen table, however, there is no distraction.

But, these days, there is also no Ed. Once again he sleeps in.

His preoccupation with his sailing I think has kept him up later than usual. And so I let him sleep.

(Morning walk to barn)

Eventually we agree that it is a most perfect day for a brisk walk. And now, as always, we engage in a volleying for the right hour. 

Want to go now?

How about in half an hour? (I'm in the thick of some computer search or email.)

(In half an hour...) Okay, we can go!

How about after lunch?

We can go on like this all day. Sometimes we never do head out because we will have tossed the proposed walk right off the tennis court. I mean, by 1:55, I have to start setting out for Snowdrop's pickup. But today we manage to squeeze in an hour in the park, and it is lovely!

(iPhone photos look a bit iridescent in bright light!)

On the ride from Snowdrop's school to the farmhouse, I of course bug her for an account of her day. (And then text it all to my daughter once we get home). But today the report is short enough that I can switch the topic to more delicate topics. We have covered everything from hurricanes to wars, from siblings to friendships. This is the only time when I can actually get the girl to speculate about issues that are just below the surface for her. If I'm in good form, I can usually squeeze in some ideas for problem solving directions for stuff that's bothering her. 

I remember how hard it was to find this golden conversational moment with my girls when they were growing up. Eventually, I found that if they did their homework at the kitchen table while I fixed dinner, I could gently work in a good back and forth then. It felt casual and not too intrusive! And there were snacks which set a great mood for anything.

In those ancient days of raising kids in the last century, we, parents used to wonder if, given our career focus and full days, we could find "quality time" for our kids. I realize now that this was a misplaced worry. All days have pockets of opportunities for getting your kids (or your partner!) to open up in some fashion. And judging from my afternoons with Snowdrop, they dont happen when the child is home and engaged in whatever activity she likes. For me there's the car ride. For parents, it's likely the snuggle time before bedtime. But it's there. Always it is there.

Late afternoon -- I get Snowdrop ready for ballet. The routine is now simple because she takes some of the responsibility of getting herself ready for it and so I dont have to prod and push.

And we have another car ride and another opportunity to review "details of life."

(On time performance once again! Nothing like taking a photo through a one way view mirror!)

I take her home and eventually the boys return and I make my way back to the farmhouse. So nippy today! Time to make a pot of chili. We surely have farmette tomatoes in the freezer for it!

Do you see why a day can be exhausting? The challenges start with breakfast and end after dinner. 

I'll end with a note of anxious hope for my friend Diane who lives in Florida, right in the path of the hurricane. She and her husband and their friend have evacuated inland, but still, the worry about their beachfront home just south of Tampa is tremendous. My heart is with them tonight.

With so much love...

the last first

A milestone, that's for sure: today Sandpiper starts school. This makes him the last of my grandkids to enter the world of formal social and academic education. I want to emphasize "social," because at this age learning alongside others is totally important. More so, I would think than content-based learning. For the little guy, it all starts today.

The school he is attending has a minimum age of 16 months. (Sandpiper passed that marker this weekend). Sparrow started the same school when he turned 16. Snowdrop began here as well, but because her birthday falls on a January date, she could not start until she was 19 months plus a few days. Primrose and Juniper both began at 6 months and the transition for both was as smooth as ice cream pie. The Madison crew had me, and they had access to great babysitters at the UW and so they could wait until their chosen school's earliest start date.

Here's Snowdrop's first day, back in August, 2016.

She was upset because she did not want to carry the backpack. But otherwise, school for her has always been a joyous adventure.

Here's Sparrow's first day in 2019.

Yeah, that academic year that morphed into 2020. Pandemic 2020. He never could finish the year and though his relationship to school has been good, it certainly has had hiccups along the way.

Now comes Sandpiper. He's had full time babysitters at home and because I could not possibly give as much time to his care as the parents need, they have relied on the sitters coming to the house and thus he has never been dropped off anywhere alone. 

Today, his first day away from home was.... rough. Still, I have no doubt that within a few days, he'll charge in at full speed. This guy does not hold back!

(older brother, who is much calmer, watches...)

It's wonderful to learn from my kids new tricks and techniques, new ideas and strategies on child development. The world of kid rearing doesn't stand still. I get to sit back and take in this brave new world of family life. Parents all engaged in all aspects of it. Not easy, but so preferable to what we had before. 

Breakfast. Very late.

And a look at the beautiful asters that are now dominant in the fields. Planting them is always a chore. They grow tall, they often tumble, and they don't really begin to bloom until right about now, so for the entire summer, they look... undistinguished. But you sure do love them in October when they burst into a million purple miniature daisy faces!

In the afternoon, I pick up the oldest of the school kids and bring her to the farmette.

It's a cool day, but a nice one to be prancing around a bit. So we prance around before hunger brings her inside.

(she almost always takes the time for a tree climb...)

And at the end of the day, we gather at that school -- once Snowdrop's but now that of her brothers. Everyone is extremely excited to hear about the little guy's first day (it had its good moments!). 

I leave the girl with them all and head home. I think about how in our cultures, school is so monumentally important. We take it for granted -- the privilege of sending kids to these places where there is warmth and and friendship and learning. 

Except that I really don't. For all that these schools (teachers, staff, counselors) do, I am deeply grateful.

Lucky kids. Lucky parents. Happy grandma.