camp ends

The familiarity of summer sleep-away camp is an American thing. Most people I know here have had some camp experience. Even Ed went to camp and indeed was a camp counselor. Most and perhaps all of my Polish friends never went to camp when they were kids. Many stayed with grandparents or other distant family members during summer.s Me, I went to camp three times in my six childhood years living in New York. The other summers I stayed with my grandparents in Poland. My youth was clearly a mix of Polishness and Americanisms.

Polish people do not understand the significance of a camp experience: typically, it's your first time away from family. A time of meeting new kids, and living under the loose supervision of a staff barely older than you. A time to take responsibility over your belongings, your whole self, in fact, as you learn to make choices that teach you a lot about how to best navigate all that's out there.

My Grandma Camp is nothing like that. I am nearly three times the age of all three campers (my three oldest grandchildren) combined. Everyone knows each other. I give some choice, but also have planned activities. Food is the old reliable stuff. Nothing new and disgusting (I learned about "bug juice" in one camp, and "eggplant caviar" in another -- the Russian one).

And yet, my Grandma Camp this year pulled all three kids away from their homes and their parents for a handful of days. They let loose here, at the farmette. Really let loose. Didn't Stephen Colbert recently say that laughter conquers fear? That you can't both laugh and be afraid? There was a lot of laughter at my camp. No one was afraid. Well, except when a movie turned scary: both Primrose and Sparrow would hide for a few seconds in the "art room."

The other day Primrose told me what her least favorite moment of camp was this one: we were at the dairy farm and I was so busy looking at, and photographing baby calves that I didn't notice the manure ditch that ran the length of the barn. I tripped over it and fell. The farmer was terribly concerned over my bruises, my age, my fall. I think Primrose was concerned that I had fallen into cow poop! Since looking at a photo possibility has given me bruises before (think: head wound at a French train station that required a visit to the ER), once I saw that no ER trip was required, I shrugged and brushed it off (and lucky break for me -- they had sanitizers and wipes everywhere!). Still, if that was Primrose's worst moment, that tells me a lot about how well she handled all the other challenges of a 24/7 camp with cousins!

 

This morning, I gave myself an extra half hour in bed in my hotel room. And I walked with a leisurely pace to the younger family's home, pausing at a coffee shop along the way.

I carried my drink with me to their house and ate granola and watched the kids play and read and go about their normal routines.

(post-shower)

It was a beautiful morning!

 

We walked over to Pompette's for a late brunch. They know how much I love this last meal out in Chicago!

(my Chicago girls!)

 

 

Unfortunately, the rains came down while we were eating and they continued... 

 

 

... including on my drive back to Madison. The road heading northwest was bumper to bumper traffic out of the city and in later stretches I passed three major car crashes. I have to think the weather contributed to those. Me, I was in no hurry and by the time I came to Wisconsin, the skies had mostly cleared and the highway had more or less emptied out. It was easy to fall into a dreamy state of reflection, recollection, and gratitude. Three hours later I pulled into the driveway.

 

(what a mess...) 

 

Hi Ed, I'm home! 

Yep, I walked right in, ignoring the lilies. I have no intention of snipping a single flower. There will be time for that. Just not today. I'm exhaling!

with a smile and so much love... 

the last day of camp

I give out no indication of being compulsive. And the only history of obsessiveness I can recall is with crushes of the past. I'd obsess over what wasn't working for me, but then, doesn't every person who is in love and feels an absence of reciprocity? People who dabble and let things slide aren't exactly the obsessive types.

But how else do you explain my unnecessary rush this morning?

It's a really beautiful day here, in the upper Midwest. Blue skies, good air quality, warm but not hot. I did not need to be up super early, as the campers are at their Aunt Goat's house for an overnight. And yet I did get up early. Sure, I had to pack my bag and pack up Primrose's stuff. Yes, I had to feed the animals. And, too, I wanted a breakfast with Ed. But all that would take a scant amount of time. Snipping 250 lilies? (I let go of the rest.) Why do it? I'm going away and Ed doesn't care. And yet I cleared the spent lilies that are by the porch, and by the walkway to the door. And it took a while. Obsessive!

My morning craziness:

 

(it's so early that the nymphs and shepherds are just barely opening up) 

(I missed one in this group.... can you spot it? Bottom left.)

(the phloxes have a way of showing off!)

With at least a quiet breakfast...

And then I'm off to pick up Primrose. Bye Aunt Goat!

The plan is to split the girl's last day of camp between Madison and Chicago. And we do in fact, do that. After her last morning with her cousins (at their house), I take her to Eugster's Farm. She'd been there in the past, to pet animals and admire the sunflowers, but this time we are on a practical mission: to buy freshly picked corn.

Yeah! Delicious Wisconsin corn for tonight's supper.

The drive down to Chicago is reasonably fast. We are there by about 1:30. 

(camper, returning home)

 

 

My younger daughter has been waiting to take her lunch break with us. At Floriole Bakery.

While her mom finishes up work in the afternoon, Primrose and I take a walk: to my hotel for tonight (I'm back at the Robey). To a bookstore. For a small ice cream. And to pick up some N/A beer for tonight.

(checking out my wee room...)

(at home, she settles in with a new book)

 

And now here's a special evening treat: my daughter packs some foods (smoked salmon, cheeses, and a delicious salad she whipped up with the corn),  we pick up Juniper and the dad and head downtown for a picnic and concert at the Pritzker Pavillion in Millenium Park. It's the Tchaikovsky Violin concerto and it is beautiful.

The whole evening is beautiful! The spacious lawn for picnicers allows for kids to get up if they have to. There's room for everyone. And our food is delicious. And the music swells and fills me with the kind of emotion that comes with familiar pieces beautifully interpreted. 

(A moment of realization: she's home with her parents again! The cousins miss her, she misses the cousins, but it sure is nice to have these guys nearby!)

We finish with ice cream at Amorino's. Memories of our last trip together in April!

 

 

 

(Chicago: a city with a little of everything)

 

I end the evening in the quiet of my hotel room. 

(the Robey)

 

 

I'm too tired to think, review, explore again the details of last week. I'll do that in the next few days. In the meantime, camp comes to an end. Those intense lively funny joyful memories? Forever with us, of that I am sure.

with so much love... 

the fifth day of camp

The temperatures dropped. The rains stopped but the clouds remain. All three grandkids are here with me as we start in on the next day of G. Camp (Gaga? Grandma? Depends on who you ask). 

They're up and going at 7. That's great you say? Well yes, but the cats! Oh, the cats! Stressed by the visiting threesome, they come upstairs confused, meowing for food, meowing for attention, meowing for who knows what reason. At 5:30. Darn cats, be quiet!

And again the three cousins start off with making up videos of crazy antics. And again Ed is playing the role of cameraman.

While I snip just a few lilies and prepare breakfast.

Snowdrop and Sparrow have their drama program at 9. Time to go.

 

 

 

I drop them off, then take Primrose to a Monroe Street bakery.

 

They all voted for lunch at the farmhouse, and that's great, but I could use some dessert treat. How about brownies with salted caramel? (Ed's reaction: that is sooooo sweet!) 

 

It's impossible for me to not finish the lily clean up and so we return to the farmette, where I snip away, while she plays. 

850? 860 snipped lilies? Something like that. These are the days of the profound colors:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Nymphs and shepherds, in full bloom) 

 

 

(surrounded!)

 

 

 

 

(the firs gladiolus murielae)

(I'm always drawn to this one...)

(Big Bed)

Noon is pick-up-the-Shakespeare-duo time. We take a short walk to the local game store, where they admire everything and walk away with Nee-Doh (little squishy cubes) because everyone has one!

We eat lunch. Slowly, deliberately.

 

 

 

And then they play, all the way until late afternoon, when we all set out for our local farmers market. It's their annual kids day, where kid focused activities abound. The two younger ones make their own sundaes...

And then all three want to wait in the long line for face painting. I'll have to give the artist credit -- this woman is a serious face painting person. Snowdrop does the first one -- the younger two want to see how it will turn out.

By early evening I do what I was supposed to do earlier in the week -- I take all three to my daughter's house. Sandpiper is well and bursting with energy. The little guy is excited about getting his sibs back and excited, too, at the visit of Primrose. And here's the thing -- it is an overnight visit! I'll be picking Primrose up tomorrow after breakfast.

The farmette lands are suddenly very, very still.  Very quiet.

 

 

In my head I still have their squeals and explosions of laughter. Unrestrained.  Happy.

with so much love...