Well, it's a hot ending of a season. In the winter, we freak out at the sound of the forecaster's words Arctic Blast. Now, toward summer, we get sweaty at the mere suggestion that we'll be under a Heat Dome. Wisconsin has always been subject to the extremes. No mountains halt the onslaught of cold air from the north, and of course, the heat comes right at us from the southwest. We're sitting ducks for everything!
But of course, it's still spring. A heat dome in spring counts as not fair! Too soon for readings in the 90sF (over 32C).
I go out early to take stock, to feed, to do a good walk through.
(I planted a few climbing vines by the big stumps. Delicate and pretty!)
I see some tree limbs have come down, the radishes have grown to be monster radishes (I had forgotten all about them!), the meadows are lovely, the cherries are nearly all gone, the blueberries need weeding.
(monster radishes)
And the lilies are holding off still, which, on the one hand is good, on the other -- I bet they're waiting until I go away and then boom! Behind my back, they'll start opening up. Well, never mind. You can never time trips perfectly. You do the best you can with what information you have.
Breakfast.
And then we do some outdoor clean up. Flower fields (that's my job! if I gave Ed this task, he may well pull out a flower "by mistake"), the blueberry patch. This is the more interesting part of the morning. Of course, there's also going to be the tedium of stupid stuff. For example, calling the airline to change flight tomorrow. "To beat the storms!" -- I tell her. Dont worry, if you miss your flights, we will rebook you then. Oh, how I do not like that answer! In the end, perseverance pays off: I hang up and try repeatedly to do it online. The tenth try's the charm! I'm now flying out earlier and outside the storms' path (I hope).
The other stupid stuff concerns my cough, which continues to sound as if I am a closet smoker, going at it with maybe two packs a day. No, I did not have pneumonia last week or on the weekend. No I didn't have Covid then either. Or the flu. Nonetheless, I need to make sure that I am not heading out into the wild with some contagious disease that will kill all those within my range, me included. For once Ed agrees. So once again I make my way to Urgent Care and once again I have a great doc, who once again screens and xrays and checks and then tells me -- you're good to go!
What a relief. At home I check in on my newly changed flights for tomorrow, then head out to pick up the kids.
This summer, the older two chose to go back to the place where they attended preschool for their half-days of summer camp. (They have a summer program for older kids.) Call it nostalgia. Both kids were ripped from their preschool programs in March of 2020. Suddenly, and in the case of Snowdrop -- permanently. When schools reopened one year later, she was a public school kindergartner. I have to think she chose this summer program in part because it creates a bridge for her. Familiar stuff, known entity. Lots of field trips! (I ask -- do you play in the school's playground? She replies -- no gaga! That's for little kids. We walk to nearby parks.) Her brother is thrilled to go to a summer program along with his big sister. And Sandpiper, who is still at that preschool, was bedazzled by the sudden presence of his two sibs at drop off!
Snowdrop and Sparrow are with me most of the week this summer after camp, but of course, not this week. Just today. And I know they want to go swimming in the nearby community pool, and it's the weather for it, but I feel things are just a little too tight for it (she has Girl Scouts in the eve, and I hate rushing through the afternoon. So I say -- no, not today.
Snowdrop's disappointment is huge. (Sparrow is okay with going, but he doesn't remember the pool and being a cautious dude, he's also okay with not going.)
She tries to convince me that there's time for it.
Let me think about it -- this is from me. I really do want to think this through.
That always means no!
Not always... Well, just most of the time.
We go for ice cream...
Then to the farmhouse.
Where Snowdrop cajoles Ed into letting her play her favorite Cat Game (??) for a few minutes...
And in the end I cave. That longing was so great. (You're not going to be here! I wont get to that pool for weeks!) And the kids were so cooperative and helpful, that we did it all: snacks, play, pool, showers, and a punctual drop off at Girl Scouts.
And now it's evening. Hot, humid, but ever so beautiful! How I love this sweet spot, with Ed doing his thing, with me doing mine, and the flowers ready to burst with the joy of a very pulchritudinous last wisps of spring.
with love...
