running away

We wake up to even worse air quality. Unhealthy for all. Ed mutters -- this has been a very disappointing summer. And it may continue like this. Each year.

Well that would be a bummer! A world of fewer restrictions on pollution, dryer air, forest fires, more smoke. Are you depressed yet? 

His next comment is by now familiar to me: we should downsize and move.  I remind him that there are no safe places on this planet anymore, but he disagrees. There are safer, cleaner places and with stronger commitments to democracy. 

I have a history of running away from uncomfortable situations. I left Poland, my graduate studies (twice!), my parents, my marriage. Lately I've been more inclined to stay put. I stayed with my law teaching career for 25 years. I stayed in Wisconsin (46 years). I stayed close to my kids (always and forever). I stayed with Ed (20 years). It's been grand. Am I going to have to make some choices now? Probably not. A move for us would be quite the undertaking and Ed never does anything without investigating all options thoroughly. We haven't enough days left in our lives to investigate all options thoroughly. So I nod my head, understanding the sentiment, and feeling great empathy for my guy who suffers with his breathing in this smokey air.

And that's not the only upsetting news: the sixth chicken is still missing. I see this morning that the sleepy girl of yesterday is back and bouncy, but the one who has been mopey, or off kilter, or aging before our eyes is gone. Did she go off to die somewhere? Was she snatched? Will we ever find out? At least it takes away the issue of testing a dead chicken for a virus (too, she's been drooping and dragging for so long that we know it not to be the avian flu, which comes quickly and knocks them down equally fast). And so now we have five hens. Still happy. Still healthy.

My morning chores are adjusted for the month and for the weather. I snip lilies but not all of them. Enough to create a pretty landscape with what's left. (It has that late summer look...)

And I drive over to Madison Sourdough for a sweet breakfast. Do you see the haze??

... At home, with Ed.

 

 

 

Dance chooses to sleep this one out.

 

In the late morning I have the two big kids, on a break from their Shakespeare program. 

Lunch, play, read. It's wonderful to see them, still in their summer mode -- relaxed, with traces of sunshine in their hair and on their arms.

On our way back home, I stop with them at Stoneman's. I want to do my corn purchasing today so that I can shuck and freeze the kernels now, while the corn is at its best.

 

Honestly, I loved this day! Yes, garden work has become more of a chore. Yes, we stay mostly indoors. But it's so comfortable here! Our old farmhouse is our little piece of patched up heaven. We are still mostly healthy. My family is nearby. I could not be more content.

with love...