Well, the day has come. There's no putting it off. No ignoring the heap of must-takes piling on the floor around an empty suitcase. Decisions must be made, the suitcase needs to be packed. With care. Tomorrow morning, I'm off on a trip. Longer than usual, passing through destinations, each requiring a completely different attitude toward dress and appearance.
I'm still not 100% energetic, but most of what ailed me has receded. I didn't take any meds in part because that which was prescribed to me doesn't exist. Yesterday's was not the most helpful visit to urgent care. But I'm glad I went. At least I know what I don't have! Right now, I'm feeling like whatever it was, it sure was a light case. What a huge relief! I came dangerously close to being sick just in time for my trip. As it is, I'm good to go. Early tomorrow. If I finish packing today.
In years past, spring break trips, always coming at the end of March, came after the first spring blooms popped open on farmette lands. Crocuses, sometimes even a daffodil or two. This year is different. The growing season got off to a later start and I was sure I'd leave without seeing a single flower here on farmette lands.
I was wrong. This morning, on my walk to the barn, I spotted it! The first snowdrop!
Okay, so maybe you don't think this is a big deal, especially given that we saw hundreds of these same flowers over at Olbrich Gardens over a week ago, but to me it's huge. It's as if the garden is letting me know that it's there, slowly emerging, and it will be there when I next see it upon my return.
Breakfast. I tell Ed about an article I read in the Economist about why people are leaving New Zealand (to go to Australia), and in the NYTimes about what Europeans (and Canadians and Mexicans and Panamanians and Greenlanders) are saying about American tourists these days.
I find it interesting that many traveling Americans want to hide their identity. I get it. I've written here before -- I wasn't too happy having the conversation about being Polish when I lived here as a child, preferring to avoid the topic altogether. But this time, I think we owe it to fess up to what our country is doing to others. We've made people really scared to travel here. With good reason. One commenter (to the NYTimes article on Americans traveling to Europe) said this -- when I ask American tourists what the hell they're doing in their country, they say "I didn't vote for him." It's like in Italy with Berlusconi: everyone claimed they didn't vote for him and there he was, prime minister! And anyway, if you didn't vote for him but you oppose what he's doing to the rest of the world, to your own country, why aren't you out on the streets like we would be here, every week, every day!"
Valid questions. We should face up to them.
After breakfast I forced myself to go upstairs to pack. I'm sure I'm not doing it right and I reconsidered some of my choices having just read another commenter (on traveling Americans) who wrote that he'd be more forgiving of Americans if they weren't so boastful about their own exceptionalism, if they'd learn a few words that weren't in their own language, if they dressed with care where appropriate, if they just stop demanding better service. I took that to heart and switched out an indifferent shirt for a nicer top. The rest goes without saying.
It's cooler today, but the sun is brilliant. Do you see in the breakfast photo an Ed absorbed in reading material? That's because he is on the mailing list of the Ice Age Trail publications and their most recent one describes a segment of the trail -- cutting through the Valley View Preserve -- that we haven't hiked yet. This is remarkable. It's a mere 20 minutes away and I don't know about it? I really thought we'd explored every hiking path within at least an hour of Madison.
What's notable about this particular segment is that it is dotted with bird houses for Bluebirds. Nine were installed a year ago. And in July, 32 Eastern Bluebirds fledged from them after being cared for by their parents, achieving an 84% fledge rate in that very first year. A remarkable success story.
Ed suggested we pick up the trail today and I am indeed up for it!
It's a beautiful walk. Not too long, but lightly hilly and with good views. All against a very blue sky.
There is a prairie of course, and an oak grove, and a forest of mixed vegetation and nut trees. And the sunshine is strong and we are happy!
Of course, we note the bird houses.
We'll be back to peek at them come summertime!
(There is a bench facing the hills, the sunshine. Call these minutes resting on it totally memorable!)
Feeling even more energetic after the walk, I attack the lavender once more. I dont finish clipping all the plants. There are several dozen and I run out of steam toward the end, leaving five behind. No matter -- task accomplished more or less! When you garden at my age, all by yourself, and there are so many flowers and shrubs and tubs to care for, you make do with "more or less."
Evening: a dinner of fish and cauliflower, a few hours on the couch with Ed, watching a show together. A PBS one on the Waubesa Wetlands -- those that hug the southern tip of Lake Waubesa, maybe two miles down the road from the farmhouse. I'll miss this couch moment of course. I always do. Still, I'm excited: tomorrow morning, I'm off.
with so much love...
