reassess

I can change my mind. Stubborn people hang on to their position as if their truth was the only truth on the whole planet. You and I, we don't want to see ourselves in this way, right? New data, new ideas, new plan. "But you said!" is one of those archaic demands that were made on us ages ago, at a time when you worried about appearing righteous and consistent. I'm free of that. Yep, when you pass 70, you are free of that. I can be inconsistent, flaky, erratic, impulsive. 

This is what's so exciting about being ancient: every day can be reimagined when you wake up in the morning and your pup's nuzzling your face, checking to see if maybe it's time to get up. Millie is always concerned about what comes next. She knows this much: certain routines are sacred, but the big box items (outings, visits, alone time, strange guests) -- they are TBD (to be determined, for those of you who, like me, are initialism neanderthals). My pup does not like surprise outings or encounters or paths into the unknown. 

 

 

We're back on the porch for breakfast this morning (though it may be a last hurrah, since yellow jackets are at their peak this month and they are aggressive) ...

 

 

 

...and Millie is happy and so am I because it really is a gorgeous day. The only drawback here is that the skies -- so terribly blue, with a crispness that could only spell the beginning of fall -- reminded me of how it was on this day 25 years ago. Same bright blue, same crispness suggesting early fall. 

Of the three grandkids here, only Snowdrop knows about 9/11 (she's familiar with the Broadway musical and the book it's based on -- "Come From Away"). As we drive this afternoon on a Family Friday Fun Adventure (a new idea I had for this semester), she tells us that they discussed 9/11 in school today. Which class? Oh, in French class. In French class?? Well yes. Come From Away does take place in Canada, and you know, they do speak French there. But not in Gander (where the story takes place)! She shrugs, indicating that grownups are weird and you should therefore not expect from them rational thought or behavior.

My morning, by the way, is spent on sod removal. My arm aches from pounding the shovel into solid clay over and over again. But I decided I may as well expand that side yard while the weather is good. (I have changed my mind about how much I will plant this year again and again and again. Right now it looks like I'll keep going until the first frost!

Okay, back to the afternoon: I had wanted to take them all raspberry picking -- kids, mom, the whole pack, but I got a lot of pushback on that plan from Sparrow who does not like raspberries. I told him there was a corn maze there - maybe he'd like that. His response? I'll probably lose my way and stay there for the rest of my life! Sparrow excels at dark humor.

His mommy had a memory flashback -- she tells us that this is the same corn maze that she went to 14 years ago, with her very new husband and some friends. No one could find their way out except for her husband. She recalls how proud she was of having just married a guy who could find his way out of corn mazes.

The story convinced me that our outing makes no sense. Raspberry picking is hard, perhaps too hard for little Sandpiper. And Sparrow doesn't like raspberries. And it's a bit of a drive, and we have to be back in time for me to pick up Millie. And the maze may be too tough a challenge for us, especially if we're tight on time. I went through my brain's rolodex of outdoor fun things to do at this time of the year and came up with Eugster's Farm. We haven't visited it this summer...

 

(the treat selection there is very.... sweet and colorful) 

 

 

... and the baby goats there are amazing.

 

 

As is the ice cream, though they didn't have vanilla so Sparrow settled for Blue Moon. I do not understand Blue Moon ice cream. 

It was a grand way to spend the afternoon -- three kids, their mom and me.

And the goats of course. I think Millie would have really liked the goats.

with so much love...