Thursday, April 28, 2022

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...