I've long planned to be in Chicago this week. My son in law is out of town and my daughter could you a second pair of hands. Too, it's time for my monthly visit! Kids grow fast. I don't want to lose the thread of that rapid development.
So my morning farmette routines are ones that I typically fit in before I leave. Water the pots, inside and out, clean up the garden as best as I can, knowing that I will have my work cut out for me with the lilies when I come back at the end of the weekend. All those unsnapped flowers! Ah well, Ed wont even notice! My obsessions are not his obsessions nor are his mine. We may share a love of this land, but what exactly fills our hearts here is very specific to who we are and what we bring to it.
Okay, my morning walk. Last chance to admire the early July flowers! (We are still at least a week behind last year in terms of blooms. This is a good thing -- the peak of blossoming will happen after I come back.)
(froggie on the outside today...)
Breakfast, on the porch.
Pack, check on Ed's food supply, one last look at the garden and I'm off!
I expect it to be a singularly wonderful visit. Many evenings with my daughter, many play hours with the girls. But halfway down to Chicago, in my zoned out highway mindset, I get the call from my daughter: Juniper is under the weather. She is being sent home from school.
No one thinks it's Covid. No one knows for sure it's not Covid. Until we have a negative test, me being with her, playing with her, laughing with her is not a good idea.
We recalibrate.
I drive to a nearby hotel and book a room, then I ditch the car and, while my daughter takes Juniper to the doc, I go to pick up Primrose at school. And this part is as it should be: playful, joyful, lovely. And we continue to do our stuff back at her house (coloring the city book!)
Eventually Juniper comes back from the doc and I put on my mask and watch her from a distance.
It's not the best way to visit with a baby and especially a granddaughter, but it will have to do until her test results come back.
In the meantime, I play with Primrose and linger while she eats her supper (and discusses dessert with her mom)...
... but that's all we can squeeze in on this rather messy day. Let's hope tomorrow this all will blow over and we'll be able to get back to our planned days together.
I walk to the hotel, stopping by at Uni's to pick up some take out Japanese food. The name of the place reminds me of our own Uni back home and momentarily, I reel back in thought to the farmette and the chickens. Ed is riding his bike tonight. He'll be home late. When he does this, I put away the cheepers because waiting until he returns is not the safest strategy. Tonight he'll make do. And my daughter will make do without my help if things go awry at her place. Meanwhile, I'm sitting in my hotel room eating raw salmon (is that really what I ordered? I guess so, I was distracted...) and munching on edamame and looking out the window. Not quite the view I thought I'd have with me tonight.
Still, if I look to the right, I can almost see the rooftop of the building where my two grandgirls are, I hope, sleeping.
Goodnight all you kids out there who have had to put up with so much shuffling, and change of plans, and reimagining because of Covid.
With so much love...
