Labor Day Weekend

I am getting the hang of not laboring! I'll throw out one example: it's 1p.m., and I am just finishing breakfast on the porch.

It's a stunning day. Cool in the morning, sunny and pleasantly warm going forward. I get up a whole hour later than yesterday. (See what I mean?) It's market day and I plan to take in the Downtown market at a snail's pace. I feed the animals, snip some 40 spent lilies...

(remembering Sissinghurst...)

... and I head out. 

Early fall markets are all about color and abundance and I see both. Since I'm there easily before 9, it's not too crowded -- a pleasant stroll, even if you're not intending to buy much. And I am not intending to buy much.

Ha.

Wouldn't you be tempted?

I pick up carrots, arugula, beets, mixed mushrooms, dill micro-greens, radishes, cheese curds, door county peaches, and flowers. I think I showed great restraint!

From there to Madison Sourdough. I'm back to croissant love. 

And now breakfast on the porch. Extending over a couple of hours. Really truly.

Birds heard at the farmette: Field Sparrow, Northern Cardinal, Red-winged Blackbird, Common Grackle, and European Starling. Hummingbird sighted just now. The point is, it's a gaggle of sounds, and a feast of color, and a sampling of delights. I could get used to this.

In the afternoon, I bike over to Stoneman's farm. 

(en route)

I need to stock up on corn for the winter and we are on their last three days of corn harvest. 

 

 

Most corn people will tell you to cook/steam the corn briefly before you freeze it (shucked, of course). I have never done that. Shuck and freeze raw corn has given me excellent kernels for soups, and chilis, and all those other preparations that could stand for a cupful of corn. However, I have this free weekend. I know blanching corn before freezing preserves the flavor and nutrients to a greater degree. So that you can make salads and salsas and dishes where texture matters. (Not that I will ever use corn this way, but still...) So I prepare a few bagfuls of the blanched kind. And I will do more on Monday -- the very last day of Stoneman's for the year.

Oh, could it be that summer is ending? Are we even ready for that? 

Late summer evenings are gorgeous, despite the fading gardens, the tired landscapes. In the amber light they dont look so tired anymore.

 

Two days of the weekend behind me, two ahead. I hope your Labor Day weekend is equally labor-free. We need these pauses in our lives. A detox of sorts, an emptying of the mind. It's lovely to get mine now, at the end of summer, when the sun is still warm, and the birds sing their heads off, and a breakfast on the porch can last sooo long...

Labor Day Weekend

Well it is that for me: a weekend of rest. Feels weird. For one thing, I am incapable of "sleeping in," so I have an extra long day of rest because I am up so very early.

 

We had some storms at night. I'm glad. It's been so beastly dry. Had it not rained, I would have felt compelled to go over and water Steffi's lawn, but with a good inch of a steady rainfall, I feel that ought to do for now. We also have some felled branches on the farmette lands, from the winds that came through this way. I'll leave that clean up to Ed! 

And speaking of the sailor himself, I finally heard from him early this morning. He didn't have internet or cell service, but now he's zipping along sprightly so I expect the trip will not be terribly long in the end. Wait, I best not jinx it!

*     *     *

I haven't much interest in weeding today, but I do snip some spent phlox. It looks unattractive otherwise and, too, if I let it drop to the ground, it throws down seeds everywhere, and the flower fields become one big phlox meadow. I dont want one big phlox meadow. And of course, I still go after the spent lilies. There aren't many, but there are some and I have to hand it to them -- they'll be blooming into the first days of September. Remarkable, considering how warm this summer has been.

 

 

Breakfast. On the porch. Leftover treats from Mindy's. Very yummy.

*     *     *

There are some tasks that require my careful attention, whether it's Labor Day weekend or any other day of the year. The animals. My mother.

A word about her because it's been a while since I did an update here. She's declining in mood. From not so good, to really not so good, and actually pretty close to terrible right now. I again had a long conversation with the head nurse (and we are having a team meeting in a couple of weeks -- something that happens on a quarterly basis in the place where she lives) and we are pretty much in agreement -- my mother blames the staff for her troubles and refuses to cooperate with them because she is convinced that they are all ill-tempered beasts. The nurse explained that this is not unusual for people in the end stages of dementia. The loss of control does that to you. You become a different person. In my mother's case though, it's a little different because although she can be forgetful about daily stuff, she shows no sign of real dementia. Her attitude (finding trouble with whoever, for whatever reason) is one that she brought into the game. Don't I know it! So, we're all struggling to make the best of it, but my daily conversations with her have now deteriorated into long periods of listening to her spin herself into a real tizzy of gloom. She no longer looks for information from me, she certainly refuses to touch the computer, she asks questions that always have just a one word answer because this all she wants. "Fine." Coupled with "I'm sorry you are having a terrible day." Sometimes she'll fantasize about the past, inventing stories of how it was. That's okay by me. I prefer that fiction to an endless "this place is hell."

*     *     *

A weekend without structure is grand, but I do manage to fill at least this day with small tasks and a lot of them are done online, meaning in a sitting position. That's not good! By late afternoon I push myself out the door for a bike ride. Just a short one. To move and unstiffen my knees! 

And as I ride my wonderful electric Alpine Blue, I extend the ride, and then I extend it some more, steering myself toward our beloved county park and from there, I again pick up our farmette road, but with a pause, because look who we have here, at the side, munching away at the corn! Two babes and a mommy urging them to get out of the spotlight!

And further down, a third babe!

How can you not love a bike ride along these country roads!

*     *     *

One fourth of the long week-end behind me! Wait, is tomorrow Saturday? Without structure, I can hardly tell. Let's see if I can rouse myself to do something more adventurous. Maybe. 

with love...

Thursday

At 3 pm this afternoon, I sit down with a cup of coffee and leftover bits of a coffee cake from Mindy's in Chicago. I am home. I consider it my first moment of total exhale since... oh, I don't know when! Looking back on the past months, my head spins. From a winter of travel, to spring planting, to June travel, to July lily care, to the Poland trip in August, all culminating in Grandma Camp that officially ended today. Ed is still away sailing, the house is quiet. The chickens survived the lock-down (forced upon them for two days by my absence, in which they pooped up their water, their coop, basically everything), the cats? It remains to be seen. I've spotted three out of six since I've been back. Happily, Dance, my hands down favorite, not even close, and I dont care if that's not fair, is among them.

I have on the table a magazine that I picked up on one of my flights. I dont even remember which flight. It was free and it was about travel and it looked interesting and I haven't had time to look at it. My to do list before each of these trips, gardening sagas, and camp days just kept growing. Now it is all checked off, or at least  no longer relevant. 

All is quiet. 

It's not that I thrive on quiet. For me, too much quiet is stressful! It means I haven't engaged with the world in a way that is important to me. It means I'm ailing, or unplugged, or in transition, or that I've given up. Still, I do greatly appreciate a period of quiet (I have three or four days of it in store) following months of being extra busy. I need it to think through all that just happened and what I have learned from it and how I should focus my attentions going forward. I need to review. I need to write.

But let me go back to the morning, which was lovely, and still in Chicago. It was a morning with my girls there (the dad had gone to work early, my daughter took the day off, my granddaughters were on vacation from school still).

(Juniper is very happy to have Primrose back!)

 

 

Just a couple of hours, but what wonderful hours they were!

We walked over to Mindy's -- a beloved bakery that really does have outstanding breakfast treats.

Equipped with those, and with coffee...

 (one girl catches up on the financial outlook as I wait for my latte, the other couldn't care less about market prospects...)

... we hurry back home...

(come run with me!) 

(okay!)

... and indulge!

And then the girls go off with their mom and I drive home. 

As usual, the drive from Chicago to the farmette is sentimental and sweet in that it's always full of exquisite memories. Stepping into the lives of the young family in the big city allows me to see their everyday unfold and it is always a beautiful experience. Both my daughters navigate work and family life deftly, with total commitment and infinite patience. I just marvel at how much they must do each day and how they manage to maintain a smile through it all. Sure, I was once that busy, but I always felt that I was under-serving one job in favor of putting my energies into the other. When the girls were little, I was too often distracted at work. My mother helped a little with minding them when I was at the Law School, but it wasn't a perfect arrangement and so I cut out of school and work as much as I could to take over. (And then she left altogether to go to California, so we made do with my part time schedule and a rotation of summer sitters.) My daughters, on the other hand, don't shortchange their work, and they most certainly do not shortchange their families. Not even a little, at the corners. And they even manage to have occasional evenings of fun with their spouses. It is an amazing balancing act and it leaves me with such a sense of happy pride. 

This is what I think about on the drive home. 

I make good time today: no Chicago traffic and so I am in town a little after noon. I stop for groceries and then I speed back to the farmette to take stock of the animals. The garden will receive some attention tomorrow. Not today. I am happy that I took the time to straighten the farmhouse before leaving. The kids were so good at playing on their own that last morning, that everything is basically put away and I can do this -- sit back and exhale. And do a Zoom call with Bee. And answer emails that have been piling up. 

And after dinner (which is a salad and a leftover pizza slice!) I pick up the magazine. 

(only the flowers picked by the three Grandma campers remain...)

 

with so much love...

Wednesday

Good morning, world! No, not today, flowers. There are a bunch of grnadkids sleeping over here upstairs. Garden work will have to wait.

 

 

Several notable things about this day:

First, predictably, I'm tired because at least one out of the three grandkids was up too late, and another was up too early. But, on the upside (and it is a huge upside), every kid in the house slept well and without any night-time interruptions, which is fantastic!

Second of all -- the heat and humidity are moving on. Thank goodness.

Then, too, we have a few activities for this day, but by 2, the local two campers will have been picked up by their parents and I will pack up the ship and take Primrose back to Chicago.

That's the plan.

So, they're up! (Because on a sleepover, when one is up, the rest are quick to follow.)

They occupy themselves with attempting to put together a half finished half wrecked Lego set with most pieces jumbled together in no particular order. They wanted to do a Lego and that's all I could find.

I take care of animals and fix breakfast.

We do have an art project and it would have been a good one had I read the instructions earlier. (They specify that you need to prepare the solution one day in advance. Well who knew! 

The kids want to do it. Let's see if it works for them.

 

It does! We learn a lot about gooey squiggle art. All mistakes were made, some techniques were learned.

In the meantime, one of the Lego builders perseveres, only to discover, after much effort and great progress, that she did the structure backwards. In Lego, left has to be left and right has to be right or it wont work. Frustration. Wrecking ball havoc. Amazingly, she starts again. Impressive dedication. 

The other two play a pretend game that I couldn't possibly follow.

 

And so passes the morning.

We do also fit in an outing to Eugster's Farm. For the goats. And the chickens and cats. As if there weren't enough of those at the farmette...

(the goats)

And we eat a lunch at a young family favorite -- Culvers.

And now it's time to say goodbye to the local kids. I pack up the car and drive the little Chicago camper back to her home in the big city.

It's not really camp anymore when parents and her little sister are around. But it is lovely nonetheless. I keep thinking of an article that appeared in the paper a few weeks ago, where the author described trips grandparents can take with their (admittedly somewhat older) grandkids. I read the comments to it as well, where one person wrote -- my absolutely best and most wonderful vacations with the grandkds are the ones where they pack and bring their parents along for the duration. 

I get it. I love it as well when I am almost wallpaper, and I have the whole family in the room with me, and my participation floats in and out and I am not in charge. I can sit back with a delighted smile -- it's almost like watching a good movie unfold before my eyes.

Yet, as you and I understand, the time you get to know your grandkids best is when you are with them and the parents are not around. [Although yesterday, when Primrose asked if Snowdrop minded being teased by me, I answered -- I know Snowdrop well enough to tease her just a little, where she and I can laugh about it and the big girl responded -- it's true, gaga knows me really well; she *thinks* she knows me totally, but she doesn't! Not all of me. I smile at that. Of course, I dont presume to know anyone that well. But the more time I spend with them alone, the more I can feel their small and big pains and triumphs.]  And, too, as the girl with the reconstructed Lego will tell you -- there's no greater satisfaction in this world than finishing something that is a super hard challenge.

*     *     *

In Chicago, we have a supremely delicious celebratory supper at Fish Bar. My daughter knows I have a deep love of lobster rolls (and have not had one probably since she lived in Boston more than fifteen years ago). It's a beautiful evening. Outside dining weather.

(Great to see Juniper again!)

I get to play that wonderful role of "there for the hugs," stepping back from the parenting tasks that are now back in the hands of ... parents!

Such great kids they are. No, really! Such great kids...

with so much love...

Tuesday

A foggy morning. Windows steamed over, the air outside -- densely humid.

 

Primrose wakes early -- too early. But, she dutifully stays in bed with a stack of books so that I can attend to morning chores before her official get out of bed time at 7.

Cats fed, chickens released for the day. Okay little one, come on down! It's breakfast time.

(She watches the cats on the porch wearily; Primrose has a deep affection for cats, but likes them at a distance. She shares that trait with them, since they, too, like humans that come to the farmhouse... at a distance!)

And once again, the cousins come trooping in soon after.

For some reason they are all into stickers again -- the reusable kind. A real throwback to the olden days!

Art project for this morning? The making of haunted houses. I know, I know, it's not even Autumn yet. What can I say -- this is what I found in craft-land. And in fact, they have a great time making up their own houses, even if one wanted an extra ghost, another wanted an extra star. Once again, the swapping center was open for business.

Our excursion for this morning is to the Olbrich Gardens. I hesitated on that one. Not everyone is enthused about the place, and especially on a day where the temps are hovering in the mid nineties F (upwards of 35C).

I needn't have worried. It's enough if one, or two of three is enthused. Joyfulness is very contagious.

 

 

(inside)

(outside)

 

One reason I love taking kids this age here is that you can give them the freedom to roam. Indeed, they lead, I follow a bit behind.

And as an extra bonus, the skies cloud over (which make the temperatures far easier to take), and I got my fill of flower gazing.

(This may be the only camp photo of the four of us...)

Of course, we finish off with a visit to the gift shop. Someday, I have to get firm with the "no's." Today is not such a day. Small souvenirs (for example -- a butterfly magnet, and a butterfly hair clip, subsequently and tragically lost) were acquired.

From there it's just a hop skip to Madison Sourdough, where a croissant lunch (with some variations and additions) is devoured by all.

Not done yet! We head from there to my older girl's house. She's not there, but I know a sitter is coming soon to mind Sandpiper...

 (some wild time before she shows up)

... and she will also keep an eye on my trio for an hour or so at the pool, while I rush home to take care of much neglected farm chores. (Animals come to mind.)

(at the pool)

In the course of the day, the three kids have begged for a sleepover tonight at the farmhouse. I hesitated on this, really I did. I mean -- no way is this a good idea! Three kids in that little room with the sloping roof? Keeping each other up? Waking each other too early in the morning? Placing additional demands on poor gaga? Who ever thinks this is a wise direction to take for the last night of farmette Gaga Camp? (Late tomorrow, the camp will shrink and move to a different location.)

Still, I want to give them this challenge. And so I pack up their teddies and night shirts and toothbrushes while they swim and try to create some credible sleeping spaces for them in the little farmhouse room upstairs.

And this is when I get a text from the babysitter that one of the kids has been hurt. Getting out of the pool, slipping, falling, banging the chin. Lots of blood. Lots of tears.

I pick up a very discombobulated handful of kids. 

The sleepover should probably be canceled. But is this the way to take a camp accident? I think not. I pack the trio into the car and we study clouds and give them names on the drive back to the farmhouse. By the time we get off the highway, all three are laughing once again. So I go with the moment and swing them by an ice cream store and let each pick out a carton of their choice.

 

And after all are showered and revived, I put on the movie the two girls wanted to rewatch and the boy wanted to see for the first time -- Descendants 4 -- and I cook up a potful of spaghetti...

 

... and I smile at how fast kids bounce back from the hits and misses that befall them in the course of a day.

And yes, we do have lots of ice cream for dessert.

Did they sleep well/at all/maybe a little? I can't tell you that yet. I'll know tomorrow.

With so much love...