farmette days

Yep, it was that kind of a return. Once we hit airspace over the US, we got tangled in the delays that sprouted in the days when the weather here was vicious. The plan had been to land in Madison at 8:25. In the end, I landed after midnight and then I had to spend some time waiting in line to file a lost luggage claim. My suitcase appears to have a different opinion as to what constitutes a good solution to air travel this week: it chose to overnight in Paris. 

I did have one piece of luck: I had decided to park in the airport garage. It's $2 more per day and usually it makes absolutely no sense to pay that amount for a roof over your car. Except in the winter. My car was without snow or ice and required no scarping. I was grateful.

When I pulled into the farmette driveway, I recognized the problem: everything is frozen solid. The ice storm did its work!

Ed was alseep. Like the good soul that he is, he did bring in the groceries that had been delivered earlier, but everything was in the wrong place, so I spent a good hour reorganizing my kitchen spaces, while he lay dead to the world on the couch. Dance, happy to see me, kept me company.

By 1:30 am, I finally let go of everything and went to bed.

This morning, my regular routines quickly took charge. It's sunny but very cold and so no melting will take place until later in the weekend. Hello, farmette lands! Hello chickens!

(where have you been?!)

Breakfast: I must say, it feels good to return to oatmeal! And to this guy!

I surely can't do a mountain hike today, but I do want to keep the walking momentum going. There's always that resolve that you bring home after a very active vacation. You dont want to lose that pace, even though eventually you inevitably will slow down. But today, despite the absence of sleep, I want to keep going. 

We go to our park, somewhat apprehensively: ice and snow, mixed together, are a powerful combination and my boot cleats are in the suitcase, probably having a hell of a good time in Paris.

But we manage! On one of the hillier segments Ed sits down and tries sliding down the hill. Not worth it -- he tells me. We continue our careful pace and we make it back without a single broken or twisted limb! Amazing!

And in the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. The girl has had three snow days and two vacation days (for Presidents Day) in the time I've been away, so I have to think a return to some kind of a normal routine is good news for her and for her working parents, whose jobs don't allow for time off for either snow or presidential birthdays.

I surely am happy to see her her again.

She is chatty and downright effervescent. Eventually I remember to ask her about her school day. What subject did you like best today? There is no hesitation in her answer: reading. Not unexpected. I tell her -- I can understand that. We usually like subjects we are good at. She shakes her head -- no gaga, that's not true. I am clever at phonics. I hate it when we do phonics. You like subjects where your whole heart is in them. I stand corrected.

I picked out some Alpine animals for the grandkids. I carried these with me, thinking (oh so correctly, it appears!) that if the suitcase got lost, I'd still have something to hand over to them when I first saw them. I thought she might like a chamois.  I showed her the marmot I got for her older brother. Oh, I love them both! Maybe you could give him one of the animals from the farmhouse pile of stuffies?? No, Snowdrop. He gets the marmot. Can I at least hold both for one minute? Of course.

She and Ed look up the chamois on the Internet to see a realistic depiction.

Toward evening, I drop her off at the Thirsty Goat, where her family often eats dinner on Fridays. It gives me a chance to say hi to her brothers too!

And now I am home. After eating deliciously fresh and mostly creative foods for a whole week, I do nudge myself to veer off the same track of dinner staples. But not today. I need to recover some of those lost sleep hours from the crazy travel delays and early morning departures. I bake fish, whip up a sauce for it, steam asparagus, toss a salad and call it a day.

Yes, it takes no time at all to fall back into all your habits and patterns after you return. Yet I have a bit of Chamonix running through my head and that tells me a lot: it was an important trip. Maybe I should return there someday soon. Maybe I haven't finished the work of getting close to the mountains and the communities that inhabit them. Maybe.

with love...