There comes a moment in the growing season -- it lasts maybe two days -- when our lilac opens up its blossoms, while the crab apple is still in full bloom, when many daffodils are still standing tall with their profusion of yellows and whites, when the tulips are fully on board, when the whiff of blossom perfume hits you the minute you step outside, when the lilies of the valley are there for the picking, when the sun pops out and the air is pleasantly warm. This, I regard as the summit. The peak of my gardening efforts. We are in that moment right now.
It really is warm enough to take breakfast to the porch. And yet, we've only done it once this spring. That tells you something about my May mornings so far -- they've strayed from my normal patterns and routines. And today's is also off, and boring, belonging to those I would love not to have to bother with, but there you have it -- Alpine Blue, my now four year old car needs a maintenance check. No matter how comfortable the "waiting lounge," I consider this to be a tedious imposition, a time suck, a chore of the dullest proportions. And a money drain because of course, at this age the car will begin to develop issues.
Because I dont like sitting at the car shop, I schedule it at the earliest possible hour (to get it out of the way). And so my morning walk to the barn is very early.
And very beautiful because, you know, it's the moment!
It's too early for breakfast -- Ed is catching up on sleep and so I take the risk of pushing it until after the car work. That does not pay off: by the time they're done with Alpine Blue (leaving me with a $700+ bill), he has had to go off to continue with the machine launch work. And so I eat alone. Not on the porch yet because, well, my table cloth is so pretty and it's still on the table after yesterday's meal.
One thing I cannot postpone is deciding whether to invest time into the roadside flower field. It's long, it's in need of a soil upgrade and a serious weeding job. Should I do it or leave it to its wild state?
I opt for something in between: a modest clean up. If Ed was around I'd dump some compost as well, but that's a heck of a job for just me, so I stay with spot digging up of weeds and grasses. I spend the rest of the morning on this and I only manage to do a half assed job on half the bed. Maybe I'll get to some other upgrades next week. Maybe.
Of course, by the time I'm done, it's "rescue the kids from the horrors of school" time. Actually both of them like school and especially the social aspects of school, but you know how it is in May -- you want vacation to come now. You're ready for it.
I listen to their stories from the day (Sparrow only recalls the ones that did not go well for him!) and sometimes I want to protest their conclusions, but I try not to. Their reactions are their own. To protest is to dispute their take on how things played out. It always amazes me how many events and encounters kids have to navigate in the course of each day. That they emerge at the end of the day unscathed, or at least with still positive feelings about what they left behind, speaks mountains about kid resilience!
In the evening, Ed comes home late. The water sensor in the basement is beeping (aka driving me crazy). That means the septic system is backed up. It's been a good day, a full day, a beautiful peak day. Even as the beginning was tedious and the ending -- well, a pain!
How about a photo of two dainty little tulips, just to end on a high note?
with love...
