Back in the day, when I was a kid in Poland, everyone I knew ate what was known as a "second breakfast." Right around 11 a.m., school would break for a long recess and out would come the sandwiches from home. It made sense. Most of us wouldn't eat a warm meal (a "lunch" by American nomenclature) until after school let out, perhaps as late as 4 or 5 p.m.
I was reminded of that today as I got up early, getting myself ready for a first breakfast with a friend...
(outside! Madison Sourdough!)
... then sitting down to a second breakfast, right around 11 a.m., with Ed, on the porch.
He and I lead an oddly unscheduled life, even though we do abide by some principles, by choice, or habit. We do eat our morning meal together, though oftentimes at bizarre hours, especially on days like this, when Ed is out planting tomatoes at 5:30 a.m., finishing up his night's rest while the world is heading out to work. We also eat our evening meal together, always, though again the hour shifts as the seasons warm up. In the winter, I aim for 6:30. Now, in the warmer weeks, we've been eating closer to 8.
These shifts and adjustments according to whim or the dictates of gardening are of course a privilege that comes with retirement. For me, the only thing that sticks to a clock is that I'm at Snowdrop's school at 2:20, joining the line of waiting parents or grandparents, and too, the Sunday family dinner, which takes place each week, rain or shine, starting right around 5:15.
And yes, this morning had plenty of outdoor work.
The sun is out and it's a tad hot for a May Day, but still, I need to finish seeding the new meadows. And Ed is forever working on carting away dirt (aka spring mud) from the "car park" and replacing it with a new layers of chips. They take a few years to decompose, after which he has to do the job all over again. Out goes the dirt/mud, in come new chips.
(tools of our days)
Snowdrop has to be a little tired today. The second graders had a field trip and she had been extremely excited about it, reminding me of my own field trips back in elementary school -- many were boring museum runs (I didn't like group tourism even then!), but they all had that element of the unexpected and loads of potential for adventure. Snowdrop claims hers was great! Well yeah! They went to the Olbrich Gardens on a beautiful weather day and played in the park afterwards. How good is that!
At the farmette:
In the evening, Ed and I return to outdoor work. Yep -- seeding, weeding, and moving dirt. He goes to a home improvement store to pick up some treated landscape timber. We use it to define some of the flower fields and we'll need more for the new shade bed out front. And, too, unfortunately, I have to throw some water on new plantings. We have had too little rain and there's none in the forecast. You appreciate the effort farmers have to extend to put food on your table when you try to grow things yourself, never knowing what the weather will deliver for you! Here's hoping for just the right balance of sun and rain going forward! Please.
My energies fizzle with the last planting of sunflower seeds into the new (and old) meadows. I get unnecessarily grumpy at the chickens (who follow me and then dig the seeds right up) and this is when I know I have to stop for the day. Ed offers to ride his motorbike to pick up a couple pizzas, I finish watering, and toss a salad. Another late supper! Another full and beautiful day.
With love...
