This morning, while the air outside crackled with cold, Ed and I went over the information he will be providing with the registry of the emergency beacons that he's taking on board the sailboat he'll be sailing (along with three other less experienced sailors) out into the Atlantic. He's not going until just before I return from my own travels (so in about ten days), but we need to coordinate everything now, while he and I still overlap here at the farmette.
I tell him that by the time they search and rescue his capsized or disintegrating boat, he'll be long gone from hypothermia in what must be chilly waters of a November Atlantic. How little I know. It's between 70F and 80F in the water along our route! -- he laughs at me. Well alright then. Just keep yourself afloat until someone finds you. With Ed, it's not hard to imagine that he would do just that. The guy's not prone to panic or hysteria.
But secretly, I do have to smile at him. He has long accused me of over-planning my travels. (Meaning I think about where I'm going to sleep and where I might eat before I leave.) But here he is, for weeks now preparing the navigational technologies for his own trip. Talk about advance planning! All to minimize unfortunate situations while en route to the southern seas. Well now, doesn't that sound familiar! Travel without the headache of constant stumbles and misfires. Yep, we all aim for that.
(Breakfast, with the last of the farmette nasturtium, lilies and phlox)
I do eventually go out to get most of those bulbs in, the chilly weather notwithstanding (35F, or 1.5C out there!) but it's getting tougher because I've blistered my digging hand from pounding that shovel into tough soil. Nevertheless, I have to do this. It's my last solid day for gardening work.
And I get it done! All bulbs, 150 of them, jonquils and crocuses, in the ground! There will be one more shipment of bulbs coming in, but it will be small (just two dozen) and working them into the ground will have to wait until after I come back from my own trip.
More stuff to check off my to-do list: mow down the meadows. I'm never sure when the right moment for this is, but I think now, after the first deep frost, is as good as ever. So I get on the big mower tractor and plow through a season of tall grasses and now spent meadow flowers. I wish I had thought to wear gloves. My hands are freezing!
(the last of the tub blooms...)
And then I go down to my daughter's house where I spend a few hours with various members of the family: Snowdrop, Sandpiper, eventually their mom. (The kids had a flu shot after school and it made no sense to then bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse for a short while only.)
("hey Snowdrop! I have your brush!")
(oh, kids...)
I can't say that I'm rapidly shortening the list of things that MUST be done before the end of the week, but the big jobs I think are behind me. The farmette lands are more or less ready for their winter rest. (And I am too!)
At home -- reheated chili on the couch, with a candle, and a movie, and a shared bar of chocolate to end the day.
With love...
