Being pseudo farmers, or maybe call us farmette caretakers, or just plain two people living in the country with nine chickens and six cats is serious business. I was up before 6 in the morning and I did not sit down to breakfast until 9:30. In between there was the tidying, unpacking, clearing, watering, trashing, feeding, oh, a million things that required my care. And I'm not done yet: I just paused to finally have a good cup of coffee.
Ed did put in some effort to get this place into good working order before he left. And the mechanicals are all chugging along well. But there is still a lot to do, whether or not he is home. A shocking amount of work in fact. Even as I did wake up to a beautiful morning and that in itself is wonderful. Three years ago, when he left for a similar sailing trip, it, too was the end of October. The day after he left, we had a snowstorm. It was the year the kids trick-or-treated on icy snowy roads. At the farmette, I had a lot of shoveling to do! Moreover, I got what the doc thought was pneumonia. And we had baby kittens (Dance's kids before we neutered every single cat that showed up here) and they required training so that they would go into the sheep shed when the weather got rough. One of them chose to rest under my car, unbeknownst to me of course, and as I backed out, he got tangled and I saw in horror a little cat fly into the air and then collapse in a dead heap of flesh behind me. That was all three years ago.
Today, the weather could not be more lovely (for the end of October). Less warm than in Paris, but beautiful nonetheless.
And it will be thus through the first half of November. We did not turn the water off outside because there will be no frost in the immediate future! This is remarkable and a little frightening. But so so beautiful!
(sunrise...)
The chickens messed up the sunny bed I planted just before leaving (grrrr!), so I spent a bit of time covering holes. They proceeded to dig them up afresh. They teach you to be patient, that's for sure.
The cats are all mad at us for shutting them out for two days. Most of them disappeared. Even the most loyal cuddlers left the farmette to seek adventure elsewhere. Don't tell me cats don't hold grudges! By afternoon the three wanderers came back and meowed their heads off, saying, I'm sure -- are you sorry for leaving us? Are you??
(We called this one "Unfriendly" a long time ago. Talk about a wrong call!)
(Dance, the queen...)
Breakfast was of course alone, but with flowers. I had ordered groceries somewhere between 4 and 5 in the morning and they were delivered promptly at 7. There was a flower sale and I thought this particular bunch with lovely roses stuck in it would remind me of the bouquet I kept in Paris, so I clicked them right into the shopping basket. Small reminders of trips recently taken are important in the transition from travel to being home.
I did also want to go out for a bag of croissants: that is an addictive breakfast and I can never have enough of it. A croissant would have been a very fitting accompaniment to my solo breakfast, possibly with book in hand (still on that policeman who himself eats croissants every morning at his favorite cafe-bar), but I held back. A twelve minute drive to the bakery is bad enough, but, too, one must remember that there are virtues to oatmeal, so I sighed deeply and transitioned to my non-croissant meal today.
After breakfast I returned to farmette business. Tulip bulbs came in my absence. Thirty of them. In they go. And afterwards, I took a walk. Nowhere remarkable, but I had been walking so much the past ten days that I want that habit to continue a while longer. Besides, this weather wont last. Seize the day!
(farmhouse, up front)
And speaking of weather, Ed called, to check in, yes that, but also to tell me that they are leaving early. Like, tonight. The sail date was set for November 1st, but there are bothersome weather systems and they want to beat trouble before it has a chance to beat them. This of course sounds terrifying to people who never head out to sea, but to Ed it is just one more thing to consider when you're preparing for an ocean run. He is by far the most experienced person on that boat but he tells me the rest are fast learners, so he feels they're ready to go. Again, I would have liked to hear that he is the least experienced person on the boat, but on the other hand, Ed is a safe sailor and so I know no one on that boat will be doing anything foolish if he can help it.
Happy and safe travels, my love!
In the afternoon I prep the house some more and I start in on dinner for the young family. Their other grandmother is visiting so we are a table of seven, even though there is no Ed. Of course, it is wonderful to see everyone again!
(she's got him climbing trees, and that's a good thing for this very cautious little guy!)
(dinner..)
(his first macaron...)
I'm on a Paris internal clock still and so I feel dozy early, but I fight the great desire to fall asleep as soon as everyone leaves. I read, I write, I think about Ed's trip, about our insatiable desire to discover something new. Hoping for great (but safe!) adventures for all of us...
With so much love...
