can't deal with perfection

Flawed is good. You eat an apple that's a touch sour and you think -- well now, that wasn't so great. Maybe the next one will be better. Or, I saw a lily put out her first bloom yesterday and I took a photo of it. Meh. Looking at the picture later, I noticed a few weeds at the base. And the lily leaves weren't nearly lush enough. Not great at all. Will try again the next day!

But then comes along a perfect peach (proclaimed to be that by Ed) and you eat it, and the juice and texture are just right, and it's sublime, and you think -- it's gotta be downhill after this one. I had the best. You can't improve on it and you're not likely to repeat it after this batch.

(Morning walk reveals a good sweet pea growth, a lovely little poppy, and one day lily that actually does belong to the older generation so that the leaves are beautifully mature. Note how subtle the colors of a lily bloom can be! Is it white with a green throat, maybe with a touch of peach and a streak of gold?)

Breakfast, with that perfect peach.

And a pretty perfect breakfast companion!
 

I have mentioned that we are receiving CSA boxes of veggies from Tipi Produce. I love these farmers! The quality is there, the effort is obvious, the newsletters are super interesting. And in June, they add strawberries to the box. Moreover, they invite CSA members for an hour or two of berry picking. You sign up for a designated time slot and pick a small section of a berry row.

I signed up. And I took the young family (or three fifths of them) with me.

(Heading for the fields)

I have been berry picking lots of times. It's what you do when you have kids and then grandkids: you teach them about berries and you let them experience the joy of popping fruit, still warm from the sun, into your mouth. But it's not always 100% fun. The berry u-picks are vast and there is almost always a good bit of walking. And it can be buggy. And hot. And the berries vary. Sometimes they're okay, other times they're really average. Bulk seems to be the main point: people walk away with full boxes of berries. Probably for jam making and pie baking. 

Not so at Tipi's.

Their berries -- at least the ones we picked (they do grow several varieties) are magnificent.

I mean, over the top. So that even the reluctant fruit eater popped a few into his mouth.

Snowdrop was a pro, not once complaining about the thistle that does invade the berry plot.

The sun was warm, but not hot in the morning. We surely were lucky there!

The perfect berries I picked came home with me (the young family took their share home with them) and now I am left with the dilemma. Just put them in the fridge and eat them? (They're organic and straw keeps them from getting sandy so they don't need to be washed!) And then go back to store bought berries? After eating these perfect ones, picked just minutes ago?

Snowdrop stayed at the farmhouse after berry picking and I offered her a peach, and she, too, proclaimed the peach to be just grand. 

 

 

 

This is after she devoured an orange and a mango. On top of all those berries. I refrained from offering her cherries. We haven't finished picking them, but even I think that there is such a thing as too much fruit in one day. Maybe.

 

And dinner? I'm back to making pizza. Must use all that fresh early summer basil in the garden! At least that sweet herb is not perfect. It's just basil.

(before)

(after)

two inches

Oh, the storms raged at night! Flashes, bangs and a steady rain, lasting at least an hour. I thought about the fragile stems of young flowers and wondered if I should have built more supports in preparation for a downpour. But mostly, I felt a sense of relief. This year's drought is by no means a thing of the past, but the night's rainfall surely helped bring us a tiny bit closer to normal.

In the morning, the first thing I do is measure our various containers to see what the actual rainfall had been.

Two inches! Yay!

And after feeding the animals, I clip some fallen phlox (they were done for the year anyway) and I pound in more solid stakes for the delphinium and lilium.

Looking good!

Breakfast on the porch: it's all about strawberries now. Our local ones are delicious but fragile. Eat them right away, or lose the essence of a lovely berry.

They are impressively good this year!

And here's something I do not have to do today: water the gardens! We're good for a week, I should think. (A happy garden receives about an inch and a half of rain per week.) And so I suggest to Ed a hike. How about a reconnect with the prairies and forests of the Brooklyn Wildlife Area? 

 

 

The weather is good for it: the temps are climbing up again, but there is a breeze. And besides, the trails are mostly forested.

It is unfortunately just a little bit buggy. We're fighting with the deer flies. Nothing that a hand wave or swat can't tame, but still, I am reminded that at this time of the year, it's hard to find a trail anywhere in Wisconsin where you're not going to be sharing space with either flies or mosquitoes. One pleasant side effect of a drought has been that we have yet to get the summer influx of mosquitoes. But black flies, horse flies, deer flies -- call them what you want -- they have stuck around the woodsy areas for most of spring.

But it's a beautiful walk nonetheless. 

 

 

 

The views from the top of the hill let you take in the truly special landscape of this region. From here, you can reflect on everything and anything. It's that kind of a corner. Shaded, or dappled with sunshine. Pick your favorite and exhale.

At home again, we get our first box of peaches. This is one of those post-pandemic carryovers. Last year's "order everything, because we can't go to stores" has had an impact: I continue to not go to the grocery store and I once again ordered peaches on line, even though I am surely capable of safely entering a store that sells peaches.   (Ripening on the counter, along with some avocados and mangoes.)

If you love fruits and veggies then this is your month: everything is abundant, fresh from the vine or tree or bush, aromatic and beautiful. 

In the meantime, guess what! There's more work to be done outside. A wasp nest to remove from the sandbox (Ed! Help me out here!), two lilies to transplant, lots of weeds to pull! 

 

 

 

But, the soil is moist, the plants have renewed vigor, the day is solidly beautiful and by evening, the fireflies are out en masse. How good is that?!

too hot for words

We moved slowly from a pleasant, summer-like morning too a hot and humid afternoon. There is a menacing storm brewing to the west and I just want to say for the record that I am very careful in what I wish for: I do not want a night of strong winds and damaging golf-sized hail. I want a sustained rainfall. So please, let's have a night of wetness without craziness out there.

It is fortuitous that the two older kids are here during the best hours of the day. The cherry tree with the golden cherries is in its peak moment right now. Snowdrop loves these cherries best and though Sparrow, consistent with his "I prefer to eat no plants" policy, really doesn't adore any cherry, still, I want him to experience the joy of climbing a ladder and plucking the fruit right from the tree. This morning is perfect for it.

But first, my morning rounds. I check on the flowers and yes, the ones I watered have perked up a little (you know that things are okay when even the pansies -- planted for the cold spring and not for the heat of the summer -- are standing upright).

I see another bloom among the newly planted day lilies. You cannot expect much from this flower in its first season and indeed, though you may see a handful of blooms, they will come early and they will be on tiny, immature plants. It always seems a little funny to see a big head on a little plant. Still, the color is just lovely!

I try not to look at fields and flowers that are in need of water. I'm banking on the rains tonight, so I'm not taking out the hose for them. Still, things look pretty dry in many places around the farmette. May that change overnight!

Breakfast, on the porch. With Dance.

The kids come here right after. Sparrow is always just a touch apprehensive when you suggest something new and he has no recollection of cherry picking a year ago. No surprise there: he had just turned two and climbing ladders was a bit too ambitious then.

Snowdrop first checks in with her tree...

... and then it's off to the young orchard. She goes straight for the ladder, he follows.

She wants to reach every cherry. 

He wants to climb too! The ladder, now that's fun! (Like a young cat, he is confident about going up, less so coming down.)

Picking cherries is okay as well. Eating them? Well, he gives it a try, pit and all.

But, somewhat predictably, one cherry, partly consumed is plenty.

(Hey, a double! To hang over the ear!)

I notice that the orchard meadow is sprouting flowers despite the drought. I let them meander among the dainty blooms...

They pick some, because you know, kids just love to pick flowers. 

And it feels so fine to have them mingle with the coreopsis, the sweet william, the gentle blue flax... Sparrow snips a flower with a very short stem. No problem: Snowdrop trades, clipping his little flower to her hair. 

And then I take them home and I return to a very hot day. So hot that when I ask Ed if he is game for a one hour outdoor project, he doesn't even pretend to consider it. The project -- clearing out the small raspberry patch which has been overtaken by awful weeds -- is put on hold.

We do go out again -- on his motorbike, to pick up our CSA veggies and to stop over at our local farmers market. These are the weeks of the most fantastic produce, in my opinion. We have the sugar snap peas. The grand lettuce heads. And we are, quite suddenly, in the peak of the strawberry season.

(market berries)

It's about a week earlier than in normal times. The heat has been that strong. Maybe tonight there will be a heady, prolonged rainfall. Maybe. I don't know a grower in Wisconsin that's not hoping for it.

on the subject of work

Here's a logical statement: the more you work in your garden on day one, the less you'll have to do on day two. The problem is -- it's not true. Take this week at the farmette. Yesterday, I diligently cleared one of the wildflower meadows of wild parsnip. Well, I hovered while Ed, wearing heavy gloves and applying all his muscle power pulled it out. There were half a dozen plants, each nearly five feet tall. Out they went, root stock and all. 

But later in the evening he said -- you know, we have a ton of that stuff growing in the new forest. You want to come see? I'm not 100% sure it's wild parsnip, but it sure looks like the stuff I just pulled.

I walk over with him to check out the weedy land that we'd cleared enough to plant our trees. It is indeed loaded with wild parsnip. That stuff really should come out. But how to do this effectively? You can't pull out each plant. The soil there is rock solid -- a hardened clay made worse by the drought. We discuss the possibilities. Indeed, every time I cross paths with Ed today, all we talk about is what to do with the poisonous, terribly harsh to the touch and aggressively spreading wild parsnip.

By the end of the day, we conclude that there are only two options: either keep mowing the whole acre (or is it more?) of land so that this horrible invasive never goes to seed, or we hire someone to till the land all around the trees (several times, because just one till wont do much to get rid of the weeds -- there are too many, the roots are too deep, and we wont use herbicide) and plant a cover crop. I of course favor option number two. I've wanted to do something about the weeds growing in what was once pasture land for a long time. But deciding who to hire (we don't have the equipment for tilling) and what cover crop to put in -- now that's a whole big project for Ed. He wont just read a few suggestions and plunge into it like I would. He has to first study the problem. 

I can see that our tree planting project has just become complicated again.

*     *     *  

It is another gorgeous day. Really brilliant (but for the long term absence of rain). Not too hot either. It's the kind of day you long for on all those other days when the weather is rotten and you're thinking -- why can't we have a nice, sunny day with a gentle breeze and crispy clean air? Well, we got it. Today.

And I know what I must do (while Ed mulls over the problem of the parsnip and the cover crop): I really have to continue with my watering efforts. Yes, there is a chance of rain Thursday night, but I can't count on it. And you know your flower fields are in trouble when some of the day lilies are getting telltale dried out leaves. 

And so I mow some edges, I weed a huge (and I mean huge) amount, and I water -- six and a half of the flower fields (I have a total of eleven last I counted). Each plant deserves a long pause with the hose and there are a lot of plants. It takes a whole day to get through just that much.

(I pause toward noon for breakfast...)

There are benefits to spending this much time on yard work. Some of them are obvious: the Fitbit gets very excited on my full days of work. The steps just keep on multiplying. But, too, standing over each plant, giving it water, bending down to weed its base -- this is all immensely satisfying. I swear it looks immediately refreshed. Grateful for the long soak. Ready to grow and thrive. 

(Still loving the sweet peas...)

(still loving the now fully staked Delphinium...)

(and really liking the first big burst of day lilies alongside a lavender bush...)

One of the farmers who sends me a weekly newsletter described her plants right now as being like adolescents: bursting with energy, ready to reach for the sky, to do the impossible! I can see that. By Fall, they'll realize their genetic and environmental limitations, but right now, if you give them water and light, they'll explode with positive energy! And so a day outside, watering and clearing each plant is both essential and immensely rewarding. 

Too, there are the less expected pleasures: watching the dragon flies. And seeing the butterflies land on their favorite flowers. Like this Great Spangled Fritillary: orange, landing on orange.

*     *     *

If work breeds more work, then does leisure time push you to seek more of it? Because if that's the case then maybe we're going about our days in completely the wrong way! I read an article the other day about clever tub pools people put into their small yards, with decks built around them so that you can sit back, dangle your feet in cool water, maybe while reading a good book and sipping your favorite iced tea. Shouldn't we be looking into raised pools and lounging chairs rather than cover crops and nut producing trees, to say nothing of planting endless flowers, meadows and who knows what else?

*     *     *

In the evening, Ed went off on his bicycle and I scooted up and down the rural roads on my moped, taking in a beautiful end of day. We're almost done with spring and surely it's been a bit weird season weather-wise,  but honestly, I could not imagine a more stunning set of days. All this and vaccinations too! We are grateful.

(Not quiet sunset time.... But close!)

water and cherries

The days are really lovely! The humidity is low, the sun is out, there are no mosquitoes. 

 

 

 

Perfect June weather, except that you just can't forget the fact that we haven't had any rain for a long, long time. Still, at least one part of you has to love this day of such incredible beauty.  As we walked across the farmette lands and Ed exclaimed in great delight a sighting of yet another dragon fly, Snowdrop said with a smile -- you two are really into nature! 

I had to laugh, but I told her that she is correct and that if you live on a farm, or a farmette, nature in one way or another is very much on your mind each time you step outside. Snowdrop proclaimed right then and there that she, too, would someday live on a farmette, with lots of cats. And a rabbit. They're her idea of perfect pets.

I'm glad she is feeling good about "lots of cats," because I was less than thrilled to come down this morning and find mice remains on the living room carpet.

Ed! (This must have happened after midnight, after my bedtime.)

He works hard to clean up the mess, reminding me that we do like it when the cats catch mice. I note that catching them and keeping them outside is significantly better than bringing them indoors.

Apart from the mouse event, our morning was predictable and uneventful. We ate on the porch (remember, it's really perfect weather, but for the absence of rain)...

Dance was with us, enjoying the daisies I had picked in the meadow...

And after? Well, also predictably, I watered a portion of the garden. Tomorrow I'll do another portion, then the next day I'll move on to yet another one. Most of the plants cannot thrive and some wont survive an extended drought and I do not know how long this dry spell will last.

In the afternoon, I am with Snowdrop. She really wants to go to the city pool with me (despite having had her daily swim lesson that morning). 

 

 

The city pool is open for recreational swim in the afternoon and that means all the water sprays, buckets and fountains are going full blast. And she loves all of it!

But, a big cloud comes and we get a little cool. It's a good moment to return to the farmhouse. And pick cherries!

The birds are already raiding the trees, but we find ones that are undamaged.

I can't say that we filled many buckets, but we certainly picked a good share for an afternoon snack.

(To be enjoyed along with multiple other favorites inside)

(Before returning home, she must have her moment with the tree...)

It's amazing how fast a day can go by if you're filling it with water and cherries. I drive her home in time for her supper. Anyone home? Yes! One boy post-nap, the other still sleeping.

And this little girl is home too. Just not in Wisconsin. Unfortunately. Still, over FaceTime, Primrose can watch me cook while she's eating her own supper.

It is tempting to go back to watering plants in the late evening, but I give it a rest. We have other things to work on: wild parsnip to pull out (did you know that stuff can seriously damage your skin?), chickens to chase, butterflies to watch. A monarch flew in today to check out what's blooming here. Come back with your mates, little one! Stay a while. It's going to be a fine summer!