there's always that bright upswing

Clouds gone, sun's out, there is just that perfect amount of warmth outside.

Some peonies are finished, but others are just starting.

I have no appointments, meetings or demands on me for this morning.

How good is that?? 

The walk to the barn is early, leisurely, pretty. I take my time to look around.

(the peach orchard and the strawberry stand)

(meadow flowers)

(sunshine)

Breakfast, with Ed, outside. He has a zoom call. I have nothing.

Can you believe it??

I suppose I should turn to my very neglected to do list. Or not.

I go back to the flower fields. I do some quick fixes. And I do a major weed pull in the Big Bed. And that takes up the whole morning because, well, the Big Bed is ... big.

At breakfast, Ed and I talked about our work on farmette lands. There are three acres here, and all the flowers planted are my domain, and all the trees added to the new orchards are mostly Ed's domain, and the mowing of paths is mine, and the cutting down of dead limbs is his, and wood chip distribution is shared. He'll chip the courtyard and the tomato fields and the fruit trees, I'll chip the flowers. Maintaining it all is one heck of a job, though this year we are helped by a steady amount of rain and an early start to the planting season. 

As the summer season progresses, I will reduce efforts to keep all fields in order. I'll concentrate on the beds that are visible from the courtyard. The ones close to the farmhouse. Does this make any sense? I mean, all but one of the flower fields are visible only to us. Why neglect, for instance, the ones by the sheep shed? 

I suppose the progression in growth -- from young plants (in the spring), to middle-aged (in the summer) to old (in the fall) -- is not unlike the progression of age in people. When you get older you vision, your travels, your interests tend to be drawn in tighter circles around where you are. You settle into your comfy (well, the hope is that it's comfy) little world and you give up on trying to understand everything and everyone. So, too, with gardening, by the end of spring, I move away from trying to get everything in order. Just the stuff closest to me, closest to my heart.

And now it's time to pick up Snowdrop. It's a little bit different today: she gets to do something she has been wanting to do for a long long time: color her hair. Purple maybe. With black streaks? No, with cerulean streaks. Or maybe green? Being "the correct grandmother" that I am, I try to exert a little influence -- away from the dark and scary! But, in the end, it is her experiment. She just has to agree to a haircut along with the color. All this we accomplish right after school.

(before)

(after)

It takes a while to paint long hair purple! Like, the better part of the afternoon. By the time we are on the road, I got a message alerting me to a jury verdict in the Trump New York case. I couldn't stop the car, so I handed the phone to Snowdrop and she read the updates, one after the next. An interesting way (and legally very educational!) for Snowdrop to learn the ins and outs of felony proceedings! 

Even with our shortened time, Snowdrop does want to stop at our local farmers market. For the cherry pie! For the sheer fun of it!

From there -- to the farmette, where the late afternoon sunlight plays with her purple hair...

 

And only then -- to the farmhouse. For a very late snack. And a very brief reading session. 

Evening. You almost want to give up on couch time and just stay outside, the light is that beautiful! 

 

 

 

A few minutes, then hunger and tiredness push me inside. Easy day, easy dinner, easy evening. 

Yeah! How good is that?!