Monday - 87th

For future reference -- going to a popular county park on a Monday morning, even in beautiful summer-like weather -- is going to buy you a lot of open space and privacy. Social distancing made easy!

So this was our plan: we do our various chores and child duties and house tasks early (for me -- animal feeding and flower watering)...






We eat our respective breakfasts (for me -- on the porch, with Ed)...






... and then we drive over to Indian Lake Park. All the kids and most of the parents and me, split between two cars.

The kids are more than ready to go!






And yes, it is going to be a hot day.











You can feel it. It's palpable.






But too, it's a beautiful day to be out hiking!






So much to see! The first monarch butterfly. Daisies growing in the prairie. A frog crossing our path. A bird coming in for a landing in her birdhouse. It can boggle a young mind!


(Young minds plus one older one)






We pause for a snack.






Then we're on the move again. Up and down, past prairies and forests, with the ever present song of the many birds that share this open space with us.











And now we split up. Sparrow returns to his home with mommy to nap there. The younger family comes to the farmhouse. Snowdrop opts to come too. She's looking for some quiet farmhouse play while her cousin naps.

But first, lunch.






Eventually, while Primrose still sleeps, I join my daughter on the porch for a lazy chat about everything and nothing. The kind that I love so totally, with either daughter, or both daughters, and now especially with my Chicago daughter. Snowdrop meanders over to the porch as well and we all take out some markers and draw together. Despite the sticky heat. These two girls are the dedicated artists of the family -- they love drawing and they're good at it!
















And the loveliness of the day doesn't end there. When Primrose wakes up, we all drive over to my older girl's home. I bring food that we had planned on eating here, but then changed our minds. So, food, kids, grownups -- all packed into cars and we're off.


We are all still isolating. No contacts with anyone, no store shopping, all working at home, kids playing at home. But this week doesn't feel very isolating at all. It feels hugely beautiful because we are together.






And the kids play and we eat.


 


All things done in every country, in every community: eat, play, work. But oh how utterly sublime to be able, for this short period of time, to do it together.

We are not living a normal life right now. Nothing about washing groceries and moving away from people you may be passing is normal. Watching the dramatic events unfold in communities around the world is not normal. Still, on the home front, this day, this week are, for me, pure magic.





Yep. Pure magic.

Sunday - 86th

I spent the great part of the day in the kitchen. What can I say -- I needed to catch up and do some advance prep work for at least some of the dinners before us.

Oh, there was the usual morning stroll through the gardens to feed the animals. And the usual breakfast. On the porch.







(Dance joins us. I speculate if cats recognize physical beauty, because Dance always chooses these lovely spots to take her daytime nap.)






But after, it was all about chopping stirring mixing and planning ahead while the young families played at my older daughter's home.

Ed mumbles -- you fuss too much and stress over stuff.
Not so, I respond. I find working methodically in the kitchen a pretty calming activity, so long as I am not overly ambitious. And this week I am not overly ambitious.

I did have time not only to prepare the basic stew for shakshuka -- our supper tonight, but also to make a crust for pizza later in the week and finally, finally to make use of the rhubarb -- at least a small fraction of it. We have so much rhubarb. Want some? Really good for baking!

In deciding how to best use this spring vegetable, Ed and I volleyed back and forth over the definition of compote (he suggested I may make compote). Is it a sauce or beverage? Ask a Pole and they'll say the latter. Still, no compote for us. Just a simple cake.







Okay, late afternoon. Tables set, food nearing readiness. The young families arrive. First, the older family...






(Happy observes the commotion)












(Sandbox!)






Followed by Primrose and her parents.




















Inside, the cousins played a boisterous game, spearheaded by Snowdrop but enthusiastically supported by the two toddlers, called (by me) "take everything out that you can think of." I believe it was to be a pretend play about a restaurants, but the concept of "food served" was very broad.


The moms caught up. If there's one thing that this visit has given them it is that -- an opportunity to spend time catching up.






Dinner. On the porch. On one of the most beautiful evenings of the year.










Not many photos to commemorate it. Porch dinners require some dexterity in getting the food out and the table cleared for the next course and keeping the kids happy all the while. It's not possible to reach for the camera as often as you'd like. Not if you're the cook, pretend restaurant crew, kitchen crew and evening coordinator all at the same time.


(One last appreciative glance at a happy little girl...)






Outside, the peonies bloom their heads off. It's their big moment. By the end of the week, we'll be looking in other places for the next flowers. The life of a garden does not stand still.

Saturday - 85th

Early, late, what does it matter. Don't look at the clock. Ask yourself -- am I too tired to get up? If yes, rest some more. But if a spark of energy surges -- get up and get going. There's a lot to do!

Of course, the minutia of everyday tasks, chores, fix-it requirements (my, how things break!), cleanups, scrubbings -- none of this is interesting to write/read about and yet, at the end of the day, so many minutes are devoted to them that it boggles the mind. Where did all that time go to? Farmette and daily life management, that's where. You may be efficient, spry and focused. You still need the time for it all.

(Good morning, cats! Dance stretches, Dark Blue Indigo Tuxedo -- everyone calls her something else -- waits.)






But the day is not defined by this stuff. When I think back to this brilliantly sunny Saturday, what stands out is this (and I write chronologically):

The garden. Looking at it, making mental notes on what needs to be done. Loving the emerging blossoms and the sound of bees and the silent speed flutter of the hummingbirds.






Breakfast. On the porch. Peonies, everywhere peonies. And the fantastically fragrant lilac.






A quick stop at my daughter's home (some kids are still in their pj's; of course they are -- it's a day without the usual boundaries).






(Others are dressed and ready to go!)






(Okay, bathed and set to face the day!)






I pick up my younger girl and Primrose and we head for the farmette. (With a stop for the CSA veggie box, which has something even Ed will let me toss to the compost pile -- cilantro! On the upside, it also has salad greens, spinach, asparagus, broccoli, radishes, arugula and other greens that are secondary in my book, but still fun to incorporate, even if it is very hard to fit everything in the fridge in these days when I'm cooking for nine and produce is so abundant.)

Lunch: cheeper eggs, broccoli, toast and mango with berries. Primrose loves it all!






Sandbox time. Just for a little while. I don't supply the kids with many toys in it -- usually I'm not anxious to have them play there for long. If the sun hits that spot it's too hot, too bright and if the welcome shade moves in, then the bugs come out of hiding. Still, for some fifteen minutes, it's great fun.






Later: her mom is working. Primrose is napping. Grandma is washing groceries, watering parched flowers, feeding the returning little kitten -- Cutie! So happy to see her again (she'd been gone for days)! Last night's howling coyotes and the sound of gunfire had us worried.

And soon after all those kid naps, the Madison family comes over.


It's amazing, really: the wading pool that I had picked up when Snowdrop was just a one year old is so tiny! And yet these three manage to squeeze in and entertain each other with water play for a long long time.






Kids play, I fix dinner. Tacos. I know, I know -- they've become such a staple here.  But I got my corn tortillas! We're on!






(Three of my four best girls!)






(Waiting for dessert)






(Yogurt bars and cherries: worth waiting for!)






(Pretty funny!)






Meanwhile, for some inexplicable reason, the robot vacuum cleaner left its home and began its vacuuming work. Ed and Snowdrop are trying to send it back to its base.






Later, much much later, when the moon is bright and beautiful (we had the Strawberry Full Moon yesterday; did you know that?), after the last dish is clean and drying off, I plomp down on the couch and pour myself a glass of Bergerac white. A frugal person's Burgundy! I smell popcorn. With the best images from the day crammed into my head (and into my flickr folder), I can exhale.

I had been thinking during dinner, as the kids were singing and the grownups were clapping, how this scene plays itself out the world over, again and again: the older guys hooting for the next generation. Proud, crazily in love with the little ones' drive, talent, sweetness. It's what we all want: evenings around the table with people we love.

Sigh... 

 Turn on our British crime drama show, Ed. I hope our inspector's love interest comes around again and they live happily ever after! I mean, why watch a movie if it can't have a movie ending?!
 

And now it's almost midnight and the next day is about to begin.

Friday - 84th

I've come to the conclusion that on busy days, no matter how early you get up, you never get everything done anyway, so you may as well sleep in. I wish I had followed that advice today, but in a naive effort to get ahead of myself, I gave up on sleep at 5:30 and began my day then.

I had no choice, really. I needed tortillas. But they seem to go like hotcakes because every time I put them in "my cart," they disappear. Sold out by the time of delivery. At midnight, I spot them  on the virtual shelves of my grocery store. So I quickly put in an updated grocery list, for delivery at 6 a.m. I figure it would not be possible for them to sell out, given that the store's closed for the night. Click. Order in.

Unfortunately, there is to be a confluence of events at that early hour: the grocery delivery, a drive-by drop off by our local farmer Aggie (she is selling us her prize sweet slicer cucumbers) requiring us to leave her a check, and finally -- a storm. All three at the same time. I had to be up and about to juggle it all. And as long as I am up, I should feed the animals and oh, that tiger lily -- aka ditch lily -- is invading my true day lily bed again, so I must dig it up and transplant it to some remote corner of the farmette lands (Ed does not like it when I ditch the ditch lilies).

In other words, it is a hellaciously busy morning.

Not so busy that I would ignore the garden!

(A Big Bed view...)






(You cannot forget about our second lilac -- the late bloomer. Its position is to the side, but its fragrance is nonetheless fantastic!)






(Perhaps our most floriferous peony -- right in front of the lily bed.)






(A pretty sight as you come up the driveway...)







Foods washed, cucumbers delivered, animals fed, lilies transplanted, storm never made it our way. Ed and I eat a quick breakfast on the porch. We briefly discuss the value of a liberal arts college education (it's always interesting to hear the perspective on this of a mechanical engineer) and then I note that it's late, except I have one more detail (mom related) to take care of and now I'm really late.

But, never mind: all's forgiven. I show up at my daughter's house for a day of play with Primrose and her two cousins.






This is what we did today:

(Always the frolic!)






(A walk to Stricker's Pond)











(With a run and a chase out on a big field...)











(Deck play)











And in the later afternoon?

(Primrose with aunt...)






(A tower, built mainly by Primrose, with Sparrow's experimental assistance...)






(So... how do we play baseball? Like this?...





... or is it more like this??)






I stay for a dinner of grilled foods. There is a beautiful selection of burgers, brats, and hotdogs, along with beyond burgers for the diehard no-red-meat-ever people. For a minute I am tempted to jump ship. Ed and I no longer grill stuff and of course, we're not red meat eaters but that doesn't mean that on that rare occasion that someone offers it I am not tempted.

Still, there is a cultural grip on us all that we too often fail to acknowledge, let alone understand. Having, myself, rejected the idea of (red) meat, it's hard to not feel weird eating it. With a sigh, I settle for the beyond-meat burger (a plant based burger for those who haven't been following this stuff).



Pulling into the driveway of the farmette, I take in the majesty of this weeks blooms.


 


And then I come inside. I tell myself I really have to do better in the sleep department. This simply means that I should go to sleep before midnight, but that really is not possible because, well, the evening is the time to catch up with the news, to put my feet up, to eat popcorn with Ed.

But no more predawn wake ups. Really, no more! (A promise I'm not likely to keep.)