Monday

You can't sustain that kind of tempo for long: weeding a garden with a new knee means basically working in a down dog position. For hours on end. The next day you pick a few weeds and say -- enough for now. I dont want to come out of this with a bad back. 

I try not to pay attention to the work that needs to be done out there and this morning it's easy to scan my eyes over a broader landscape. It's foggy and the views are gentle and pretty.

I note my neighbor's forest across the road. He had planted all the trees -- hundreds of them and now there is this forest and in September it is beautiful.

In our own space, there are still wisps of flowering plants, always inspiring me to want to do more...

But, I go easy on outdoor work. Two buckets of weeds instead of ten.

Breakfast, inside!

And I take a walk. No ambitious hike, just in the neighborhood. Enough to (eventually) close my rings! (The clump of taller trees? The farmette.)

And after lunch, Snowdrop shows up at the farmette. No pick up at school today. The kids haven't even been in school for a full two weeks and already there is a day off for teacher whatever. Training? Service? Discussion? Catch your breath? All this makes sense to me -- teachers have a heck of a load to carry these days. Kids and now parents as well bring their whole load of issues to the classroom door. Nonetheless, what is a parent to do when the demands of work are such that you cant take random days off to mind the kids? We are so unkind to parents, forever sending the message -- fend for yourselves! Having money and/or an available grandparent helps. Most people don't have enough of either. 

Snowdrop is in a happy mood and peace reigns at the farmhouse for several hours. 

(Ed brings in the largest of the watermelons we've grown behind the barn. It's good!)

In the evening, I drop her off at the pick up point and I meet up with my former colleagues for a dinner at an Indian place. This is nearly always the cuisine of choice for all of them (rarely, Thai steps in) and I'm fine with it as well, though I wonder how it is that we come to be stuck in our habits so much. (I am not exempt from this!) I cant imagine meeting these women without the aroma of Indian spices rising from the table. It sets the mood. 

At home again, prompted by an article in the NYTimes about the declining birthrates (in all countries), Ed and I talk about children (he has none) and how they change your life, your schedule, your ambitions, nearly all your waking hours. Rearranged because of them. (Not for all parents, but for many, perhaps most.) Your emotions, swaying, tilting, moving around because of them. Your bank account emptying because of them. Because I love my girls so much, I would change nothing. Indeed, do it all over again, but perhaps with fewer illusions that it would ever be an easy breezy sail. In my retirement now, however, I'm holding onto my quiet evenings and movement-based mornings. These and travel keep me spry. Though less spry than I was ten years ago. Ten buckets of weeds turns out to be too much. Two is plenty.

with love...