We all have words that, when heard, cause us to bristle. I have one that I know others, too, shudder when they hear it (I'm thinking of you, shuddering out there, near Ann Arbor!): should have. They should have. You should have. I'd be okay if it was stricken from conversation forever. Forget about banning books! Ban "should haves!" The word implies that the speaker knows better than you, or the person under judgment. That she or he holds a moral superiority over us plebeians. It always makes me wince when I hear it.
And yet, it's so easy to be that person, throwing out the words that you yourself are loathe to hear. For example, my daughter texted to let me know that Snowdrop had a fever. I started to text back "maybe you should..." Damn! I was going to suggest a Covid test, even though there is no reason to do one and if there was reason for it, she would have surely done it. What is the matter with me?? (Luckily I caught myself.)
I write this because in being a grandparent, you learn this very quickly (and if you don't learn it, don't expect friendship out of your offspring or grand offspring!): you do not possess superior knowledge about the human race. You lack information about the most basic principles of existence. You are not of the next generation, facing their problems and their struggles. You are a bystander, there to learn, to help. Never to judge, never to instruct what steps should be taken.
These were my thoughts while snipping 460 spent lilies this morning (you do it with one hand: hold the flower at the base with your thumb and forefinger, and let your middle finger snap it off).
You already know from my introductory words that Snowdrop is sick, which is a shame because today was going to be our day -- hers and mine. Full on, to go beyond the rushed routines, to splash, play, read, maybe bake, maybe not. Another time.
Breakfast, just with Ed.
Afterwards, I get him to enter my flowerbed -- one that has the usual collection of my favorites. Except this year, I tried something new in between the lilies, phloxes and false sunflowers. It's a tender annual, sold in small bulbs, to be planted in spring. And it blooms late summer into early fall. Here it is:
Gladiolus Murielae ("Peacock Gladiolus"). It's beautiful!
There aren't many flowers that are suitable to Wisconsin that I haven't seen or read about in my forty plus years of growing flowers, but I do have an itch each year to try something new. I have been avoiding putting annuals into perennial beds (even though each time I go to Giverny, I notice that what makes those gardens magnificent is exactly that kind of a mix!), apart from an edging of nasturtium here and there, but I took the plunge this spring and I may be hooked on more such experiments going forward!
I had this day cleared for the little one, but since there is no Snowdrop, I decide it's time for me to move beyond the usual. I ask Ed -- would you like to bike over to Olbrich Gardens with me? You on your regular bike, me on a B-cycle.
The Gardens require that we bike first downtown and then veer east. Google tells me it's just under an hour each way. True, I haven't ridden great distances since the knee surgery, well, in fact for years now, probably since I retired, but it's Ed who is hesitating today. The heat. It'll hit 90F (beyond 32C) and, too, there is the question of air quality. It's not horribly smokey, but we aren't in the healthy category either. Nonetheless he agrees, and shortly after breakfast we set off.
We stick to bike paths out here, in the countryside...
(a young one!)
... switching to quiet streets once we're in Madison proper.
Of course, I do have an easier time of it than Ed. I stick to minimal assist, but it's a heck of a lot better than no assist at all. In the heat. Mostly without shade (this, according to Ed, who is far more allergic to excessive sun than I am). Even though my beloved is a terrific biker, I worry that I may have pushed him too much on this one. (He would never complain. Ever. He'll drop dead before griping about being overburdened.) From my vantage point though, it was a terrific ride!
We didn't linger in the Gardens too long. (Did I mention how hot it was? And that the air was suspect?) But I took note of some pairings of flowers. I'd say their ratio in the flower beds was more like 3 (annuals) to 1 (perennials). If you want nonstop blooming all summer long, that's the way to do it.
On the ride back, we paused at Madison Sourdough. It's on the way and I could not resist!
An almond croissant for lunch! Mmm!
I have to say, I loved the whole excursion. Early on, this is what Ed and I would do every spare hour we could find, until he gave up on travel and I gave up on biking: we'd explore. True, Olbrich Gardens isn't a new destination for us, but the effort to get there was its own reward.
Hot and happy -- a wonderful summer combination.
