changed

Yes you can go from a hailstorm through rain to sunshine and then back again. All in one hour. We did, here in south central Wisconsin.

We were lucky. The hail was loud and large, but it did no damage to farmette lands and structures and, importantly, flowers. Just south of us, windows were shattered. 

I go out to feed the animals in a moment of quiet.

And what I notice is what Ed will notice as well when he comes down -- the world outside has changed. It's no longer dominated by the brown earth tones of winter. Our farmette lands bear the gentle green imprint of spring.

With the added bonus of blooming bulb flowers and my occasional hanging basket, it is a very pretty landscape!

Breakfast -- during which we talk about what it takes to change a person's mind. How long does it take for you to admit you've made a huge mistake? In the way you voted, in what you held onto as gospel truth, in the way you proceeded, thinking it to be for the good, but learning that it caused harm to many instead? Turns out it takes a hell of a lot, because right now, not many are backing down from their support for the current leadership (insofar as they supported this guy back in November).

The question is why? Why accept the cruelty and incompetence? I'm thinking -- people in "happy countries" (Scandinavia, etc.) want the basics covered (healthcare, good affordable education, time off to raise families and to then vacation with them) so that they can go on to pursue their passions, perhaps enjoying the great outdoors, or meals with close ones. We're a little more confused about what we want from the government. Those who wanted "change" are smugly satisfied. They got change. But at what cost, and with what result, going forward? And who has been made better by it?

 

The sun comes out briefly now.We use this next window of warm, good air, to drive over to Natalie's Greenhouse. Kopke's has an abundance of plants that is unmatched anywhere that I've seen around here. But Natialie's is a small, family run operation. Less than half a mile from Kopke's it is our go-to place for at least one hanging basket, and friendship.

We see her at our local summer farmers market and we always pause to catch up. Hardworking, with plenty of worries on her shoulders, she nonetheless pushes forward, always with a good spin about what's ahead. [She is a half a dozen years younger than me, but nonetheless, we commiserate about how hard it is to stay "focused and present" with young grandchildren. Something happens in your sixties -- it's as if you've hit pause buttons in all aspects of your life. I completely understand this: you can be strong enough to dig up a garden or a field of tomatoes, but young ones can totally zap your energies within the space of an hour!]

Back at home, I give some thought to what goes where in my flower fields. I think the time has come for me to take some notes when I envision a garden addition in January. That vision can get awfully blurry come April!

In the afternoon I pick up the grandkids. Why do they love pajama day in school? Such a nothing event and yet, they're thrilled with it. Should we learn from that?

It's a short stay at the farmhouse, because Snowdrop has her violin lesson later in the afternoon. I drop her off, then backtrack to Barrique's with Sparrow for a meet up with my older girl. Believe it or not, I haven't spoken to her for maybe a month! In texts we pass on basic information, but of course, that's a poor substitute for a face-to-face. We finally take a few minutes for that today.

And in the evening, I cook up some farmette eggs and CSA spinach. I have a lot of garden work before me, but unfortunately, the three loose days ahead coincide with cooler temps and periods of rain. On the upside, all this will change soon. You know how April works: whatever comes your way never stays for long. And here's the thing: unlike in life, in politics, in the world, what comes next is nearly always better than what was there before.

with love...