If ever there is a day that deserves no comment, not story, no photos at all, it's the day after you've come from a beautiful trip. Every chore you do at home on that day feels dull, every step you take is on too familiar a landscape.
At the same time, it feels so wonderful to be home. I don't stress much over travel, except when I am with a child or grandchild. When I come home, the relief from not having had some cataclysmic travel event is huge (here are some personal favorite cataclysmic events from my travel days: a twelve hour flight delay, nonstop rainfall in the mountains with perhaps lightening for emphasis, lost passports, lost suitcases, lost favorite toy of child, stomach bugs, fevers without explanation -- what? You want me to stop? Well fine, but you get the idea!)
At home, I unpack the unused umbrella, the unopened children's Tylenol, the ignored Covid tests, the mostly unnecessary bandaids, the huge quantities of extra masks (because if you get Covid, even after your isolation, you need lots of fresh masks), and I think -- phew! We were lucky.
Not much to wash, sort, and put away today. I did not pack a lot of clothes. We stuck to our small carry-ons and Snowdrop was impressed or at least amused at my daily rinsing and washing. (Swimming requires a midday change of clothing, but hey, it's summer and t-shirts dry very fast.) She'd never seen anyone do hand washing before.
After a trip to Europe I always wake up super early for a good handful of days. As I turn to the chores waiting for me outside, I think -- hey, the farmette lands look pretty good still. Especially in the very early morning light.
(the second peach tree: still not fully ripe...)
And I have some pleasant surprises! The last day of August gives me the gift of a lily or two or three still.
(Not a lily, but it is the monarch's favorite!)
The rest of the flowers are really in their fall mode already but that's okay. I like them in this stage as well.
I have appointments, I have a UPS errands, I have glasses adjustments -- this kind of nonsense is typically spread out over weeks and weeks, but I have just a wee window between trips and various activities so I pack it into this day and really, that's just fine. Get it done, move on.
In the afternoon, Ed and I ride over to Stoneman's for the corn. He'd been eating multiple ears a day in my absence (why cook dinner when you have corn...) and now I'm returning to this grand August eating habit. Well, for a few days anyway. With Labor Day we wind down the corn season. Sad but true.
And in the late afternoon, I have two treats: first of all, I go over to the young family's house.
(Hi, Sparrow!)
(Hey there, Snowdrop!)
(Sandpiper isn't still enough for a photo.)
I was asked to tag along with Snowdrop and her mom to visit her new classroom. They really shuffled the kids around this time and she has none of her best buds in her new room, but Snowdrop is ever the social optimist and she seems not too concerned about this, nor about the fact that there seem to be two boys for every girl (the whole grade is intensely boy heavy). She is excited about what's ahead and that's such a good thing!
I have to say, the amount of work this teacher put into arranging the room for the kids is impressive. Snowdrop is one lucky kid to have someone so dedicated to the job of schooling these second graders.
And finally, toward evening, there's a second treat: Ed and I drag out the kayaks to our nearby lake. Initially I hesitated. Honestly, you can't get excited about paddling in a somewhat soupy lake after dipping oars in a clean body of Alpine water. But, I want the movement. Ed wants the movement. So we paddle. And it's a beautiful evening for it!
Dipping oars into the quiet lake at dusk creates a perfect mood for reflection. I think about traveling with my grandkids. And I think about something that a number of people have asked me -- how is it that I take Snowdrop and not the others on these trips? Will I create equally splendid trips for the remaining four?
I think about how it's mostly a younger person who would ask that. How people my age know the answer to this question plain and clear, the answer being I don't know.
For me, to travel alone with a grandchild, five conditions have to be met:
1. I have to be still young and healthy enough to not worry about needing medical care.
2. I have to be still young and healthy enough to manage the demands of a child.
3. The child has to be independent enough to allow me some down time.
4. The child has to want such a trip very much and not be afraid of missing mommy and daddy
5. The child has to be old enough to manage a travel crisis.
Over time, the kids get older and you'd think, therefore, that it should all eventually work out for us all. The problem is that I, too get older. Hitting seventy next year. And with the added uncertainty of Covid, I was just barely satisfied that the first condition was being met this year. For a while, I toyed with traveling with some random additional person just in case. I did extra boosters and extra check ups on all preexisting conditions, and still I really hesitated. My doc finally convinced me we'd be okay. And we were. And still, I worried.
So, is this fair to the others?
I think back to Tiziano's words -- my grandma had my father when she was sixteen, my father had me when he was 21. Kids these days are born to older grandparents. Is this fair? I honestly think that that is the wrong question to ask. You make decisions as best as you can. Questioning generational choices (me theirs, they mine) is not going to get you anywhere. Being a parent or a grandparent is tough business. You do the best you can. Most people indeed do the very best they can.
And at home, Ed and I eat corn and cheeper eggs for supper because I am not yet focused on cooking much of anything. That will come, but not today.
I toy with the idea of making a Negroni, but if there is one thing I learned, it's that you cannot recreate Italy (or France or Maine or Morocco) in your own home once you return. So I make a conventional aperitif spritz instead! I mean, come on, it's still August!
With cheers, and love...
