May beauty

May isn't done with its flood of loveliness. This day! Oh, this day! So stunning that words fail me. Perfect for work outdoors and we both jump right to it. Well, after the usual. Walk to feed animals, breakfast.

I had a vague plan for the day: finish trimming spent flowers on the lilac and maybe snip down some of the saplings growing in the roadside bed. None of that happened. I went out with a bucket and bent down to pull some weeds in the corner of the Big Bed. If you're a longtime reader of Ocean and you pay attention to my gardening saga, you'll have read about the Big Bed. It's one of the first ones that I planted here and over time it grew. And grew. And grew some more, until now it is a Super Big Bed. Because I added plants and extended it over the years, it's rather haphazard. Different parts bloom at different times of the season. It would be splendidly abundant and a riot of color were it not for the big Honey Locust and Norway Maple that grow by the garage shed. Tall trees with a wide canopy, they now provide shade over the bed for a good chunk of the day. What used to be a sunny field is now a partly shady field. Sigh...

Nonetheless, I've not given up hope for this jungle of flowers. (Really, there are hundreds of them in the Big Bed.) And today, once I started pulling weeds, I couldn't stop. I'd done spot plucking throughout the season, but today I did a thorough clearing of it and it took me the whole day. Many, many buckets of creeping charlie, creeping bellflower, common violas, crane's-bill. And millions of saplings: maple, lotus, crab apple. 

Most likely I wont do a thorough weeding in this field again this year. I have other priorities: the field by the house, for instance, is my biggest bloomer (it has the most consistent sunlight). I concentrate on that as the summer progresses. Still, I'm happy to have tidied up the Big one. And of course, it kept me outside most of the day which is nothing short of splendid. 

And Ed? I gave him the thumbs up on overnight weather: it'll be warm enough now for him to plant the tomatoes. Unusually late this year!  The nights have been too cool. In they go now. With a fence this year. Ed is determined to shield them from deer!

This post is like my day -- all about the flower fields and growing things. It's where I stayed all day and it's where my focus was. And look! The first peonies popped open today. Alongside an iris and a yellow false indigo. A lovely late spring combination.

My clematis vines are starting to bloom...

 

 

 

And another surprise -- the day lily, an early one, began its blooming season. In May, of all things.

Beautiful day! Just beautiful.

with love...

 

May 25th

First of all, I love this date: it often falls on a holiday weekend, which, in retirement, should have little significance except that we've been taught to believe that this holiday ushers in summer. Many schools end their academic year now, community pools open up for the season, people start grilling. Massively. None of this matters to me. I just like the weather and the state of gardening and, importantly, it is my youngest grandson's birthday. Sandpiper is four today.

Second of all, it is a drop-dead beautiful day. They do not come better than this (unless you love snow). Sunny, mild, good air quality, a high of 70F (21C). It's just one beautiful time to be alive.

(Morning walk)

Because tradition has it that I do birthday dinners at the farmhouse for all Madison based grandkids, I am in need of a cake for tonight. I ordered one from Batch Bakehouse and so first on the to-do list is a trip downtown... 

 

 

 

... to pick up the cake and a few pains au chocolat. For breakfast. For me, because Ed has been on a no breakfast kick for a while now. His standard line -- "just fruit please." I know better than to counsel someone on eating habits.

I feed and water the tubs next. Ed frowns on that because he claims that eventually the plant food leaches into the soil, but honestly, that's being a little to over-the-top for me. The water stays in the pot! Give me a break.

[We are both feeling opinionated lately. For example, after staying at the AirBnB in Mineral Point and feeling their carpet on the steep stairs, I decided that this is what we really need at the farmhouse. Our stairs are just too slippery and though he and I have learned to take great care coming down, we can't guarantee that the kids and distracted or aging guests will be equally safe. Predictably, Ed grumbled at the idea of adding a carpet. He hates acquiring new stuff. I am sympathetic, but as I said, we are feeling stubborn right now. After much discussion, he finally agreed to carpet strips. I found decent enough carpety looking ones on Amazon. He switched that out to "easily removable" clear plastic strips. I told him I dont think walking on plastic in the house is especially fun. Back to my reminder: we are feeling stubborn lately. And he is usually the one that holds out longer!] 

A little weeding, a lot of lilac bush trimming (snipping off spent flowers increases flower production for next year), and I turn my attention to Sandpiper's dinner party. Gifts to wrap, kitchen to decorate, food to prepare. 

Here he is!

(the older two resorted to their preferred activities here...)

 

 

 

 

 

(dinner)

 

 

 

 

At four, you don't quite get the significance of this special day. You don't fully grasp that it wont come around again until May 25th 2026. You just live it in the moment, fully, exuberantly! 

 

 

Happy happy birthday, you happy boy!

With so much love...

May ride

A gloriously sunny morning. The kind that makes you laugh out loud. Well, almost. But yes, I step outside to a lovely sight of a sun dappled garden.

I had made a batch of granola first thing...

 

 

... and as it roasted in the oven I had time to mow some paths, clearing spaces where weeds had taken over. I understand the sentiments behind a No-Mow May and a Slow-Mow June, but I find it easier to keep certain paths to a lower grass height, and surrounding meadows at a higher level. We don't mow nearly as often as most homeowners, and we do pay the price with a higher mosquito population, but if I want meadows and meadow flowers to thrive, I do have to cut back the grasses in late spring or else they'll block the emergent annual flower seedlings.

Breakfast time. On the porch, of course. Yes it's still cool, but I'm starved for porch time, so I'm past caring about the temperature out there.

Clouds roll in and we roll out. On our bikes. In his various readings and searches, Ed had come across a story about a farm ("Vetruvian") that sells produce, right on the farm. Not just their own, but all of it local, seasonal and organic. You order ahead of time and you pick up stuff over the weekend at their store. The best part is that we think we can easily bike to it in under an hour, mostly (but not only) along bike paths.

The first part of the ride is known to us. The farm is just outside of McFarland -- a town on the other side of Lake Waubesa. 

(hey Ed, where's your helmet? forgot it... )

But as we leave the lakefront, we have to eventually go onto highway 51. It's a busy road and it doesn't have much of a shoulder lane. Still, it's just for a short stretch and honestly, the destination is worth it.

The farm store feels so..., I don't know, both calm and well stocked. Not unlike a farmers market, only without the crowds.

We stock up on salad stuff -- greens, radishes, carrots, and of course asparagus. And a frozen pizza made locally. Why not!

 

At home again we do some more work outside: our blueberry patch was decimated by dear (and/or groundhogs), but the bushes seem to be growing out again. They are in need of a mega weeding job!

On days like this, I'm so glad I have a container of veggie soup (made yesterday) in the fridge. Reheat, do a salad and be done. 

There are two ways to look back on this day: with an eye toward all that we got done, or with a list in my mind of all that I intended to accomplish. I choose the former!  And now for one big exhale. With a smile.

(like clockwork: the irises come next...)

 

May song

In one minute of listening this morning, I recorded the following birds: Common Yellowthroat (with a yellow throat), always the American Robin, the American Goldfinch (gold all over), Cedar Waxing (beautiful yellow belly), Mourning Warbler (ditto), Song Sparrow, Yellow-billed Cuckoo (ha! With a yellow bill). So much yellow! Such a bounty of birds and, therefore, birdsong. This is why I took our breakfast to the porch, despite the still chilly morning. (It's just 55F/13C, but the sunshine changes everything. The psychological warmth is at a perfect 75F/24C!)

First though, there is the walk to feed the animals. We are definitely in the Allium phase of flower blooms. The peonies and irises will be next but honestly, the Allium is the finest transition flower: long lasting and a standout in a sea of dense greens.

(the first bearded iris blooms)

 

(and then another...)

I have two bouquets going right now -- one from yesterday's farmers market (false indigo and peonies) and one from the flower farmers' CSA (tulips). I like both of them so much that they will be the breakfast focus here, on Ocean. 

Ed and I both worked outside on and off all morning. My Clematis vines are picking up growth speed (in their third year now, they are finally climbing nicely) and so I asked Ed for ideas on a support system. He suggested a tripod -- similar to the one he put up for my older clematis vines. We put one in around the stump. 

And I'm still moving some flowers around. We took out a dead lilac and put in a couple of stems from the old lilac to get that going. And of course, there are the weeds -- too many to count! Too many to pull out in any one sitting (well, actually standing: I bend down to pull, which I'm told is terrible for the back but this is what I do).

The flower fields are at their moment of growth. This is a calm set of weeks for me. Aside from the weed pulling, I can pause with the hard work. Nothing needs staking or deadheading. There are no mosquitoes yet, so a walk cutting through a flower bed can be leisurely and really peaceful. May is such a good month for me! Especially (but not only) on a sunny day. 

The kids are here again of course. They, too, are in a good phase right now. Maybe it's that the summer is just a couple of weeks away. Maybe it's the sunshine?

It's not that we all need sunshine to feel joy. But I will say this much -- a sunny day, especially when it follows a string of the cold and the wet, enhances the good stuff and blurs the rough moments. At least that's the way it is for us here, on farmette lands.

with love...

May early in the morning

It's an early day for me. My friend has a flight to catch and so we leave the farmhouse before dawn.

It's a pretty time to be out and about! Nonetheless, I return (it's lighter now!)...

 

 

... still groggy from an abbreviated night. Back to bed for me! With Ed, cats and all.

When I am next up, the sun is out and the animals are reminding me that I still haven't fed them. I have a better look at the flower fields.

(the Allium dominates)

 

 

(Tuxie, the pretty sheep shed cat, is sitting in a field of hostas, but all you can see are the weeds!)

 

Yep, lots of weeds out there. Too, I need to push down the daffodil stems in the flower beds. They stay there until they're brown and faded, but I push them below the leaves of the surrounding flowers so that they aren't an eyesore and so that the lilies and other flowers can rise above them.

All this tells me that I have a lot of work before me. But first, breakfast. With Ed this time.

 

 

And afterwards, I do work hard, even as there isn't that much time. I'll be returning to it later in the day.

 

I haven't seen the big two kids since last week! I pick them up after school and tell them that yes, we'll go get ice cream. But what about the farmers market?? -- One worried child asks me. I hadn't quite realized that this Thursday ritual belonged to the set of "beloved things that we do together." What to do, given that the other child really wants the ice cream?

Okay, kids. We'll do both.

 

 

Could it be that the rain stirred up their growth as well? They seem... so much bigger too, than when I last saw them!

Our habit is to meet up with Ed at the market. They love it when he zips over on his motorbike and when, after we are done with our shopping, we follow him home. (There is a lot of waving and shouting out the window -- I haven't convinced them yet that he really can't here much in his helmet and that he does not have eyes in the back of his head.)

(showing off the free frisbees and sunglasses that they were handing out at the market today)

 

 

(At the farmette again...)

 

 

I would like to say that we slipped right into our routines again at the farmhouse, but when Sparrow ran into the play room, he came across a dead mouse, gifted, I'm sure, by one of the cats. But when? I think if it had been there yesterday, I would have smelled it. At night maybe? Who knows what the two house cats do when we are sleeping! Well, apart from the stinky horror of almost stepping on a dead mouse, I'd say it's a good thing that the cats are still good hunters!

In the evening, I mow some of the paths between flower fields. Ed had worked the big tractor mower over the larger swaths of tall grasses.  Time to do the trimmings. 

Supper is late and inconsequential. Neither of us wants a big meal and I haven't yet returned to my cooking routines. But we're back on the couch! With crispy wheat crackers and a TV show that makes us laugh. You need laughter in your life, really you do. Especially these days when there's much to be sad about in this world. 

with love...

 

May rain and going home

The cold and wet weather continues, even as we are packing our bags, tidying the AirBnB rental, and getting ready for our return home. This of course does not prevent me from going down the hill in Mineral Point to get a cup of milky coffee for breakfast.

(I pass a window with the same street scene further down the block, photographed probably toward the end of the 19th century) 

I choose the more distant Cafe 43 because I am enjoying the walk, and also because they offer a larger selection of milk. I'm not fussy, but given a choice, I'll go with skim. 

 

As I hike back up, I think about how actually good the weather has been for us. On sunny and warmer days, we would be itching to be outside. Some of us like to hike. We often split up for this. But the weather has been so bad that we jwere forced to stay "home," and the conversations were endless and good. We played Hygge (ask scripted questions of the person to your left) until almost midnight last night, and we never spent less than an hour or two at the table, even as we emptied our plates easily in ten minutes. This is why we get together, after all. 

(a very long breakfast)

We need to be out by 11 and we are indeed out of the Jones House then. But not out of Mineral Point. We switch tables, moving down to the Cafe 43 for a pre-lunch, or coffee, or snack. Whatever. Really, it is just to talk some more.

No surprise then that it is close to 3 by the time I pull into Madison (our city is less than an hour away).

We drop off Barbara and then came back to the farmhouse. Diane's flight was cancelled and so she'll stay with me until early tomorrow. In the meantime, I throw a glance at the very wet flower fields, took note of the exponential growth of both flowers and weeds in my absence, check the water bucket (more than 2 in/5 cms of rain!) and come inside to greet Ed.  

Did you miss me? Of course!

I am home.

with love...

May in Mineral Point

Barbara, Diane and I wake up to rain. This would, in itself, be a ho hum event, indeed, even a desirable event (my flowers need water!), except that it is windy and cold out there. Very windy and, for May, very cold. No one wants to go out. Well, I do. I want my milky coffee!

I run into the nearby cafe, dripping rain. My camera is wet, my pants are wet. I'm not the only one there -- locals come and go, each one being such a regular that the cafe owner never even asks what she or he wants. We all say the same thing -- get a load of this weather! It's the wind that's the killer! But, we're grateful for the rain. The coffee machine hisses, I pick up some strawberry rhubarb bars, the aromatics are that of a happy morning.  

Breakfast, at home.

We talk. And I'm thinking to myself -- as we've gotten older, we have climbed onto a platform of commonalities that now dominate our time together. In the past, though we remained good friends, we lived such different lives that oftentimes we were lost to each other. Time would pass, our visits were scattered. An occasional trip together, sometimes a group meeting, but in essence we raised our kids and concentrated on our jobs. There was never enough time for a more contemplative approach to friendship. That has changed. And when we reunite in person, we immediately and effortlessly come to those shared spaces and it is wonderful.

 

 

 

*     *     * 

We spend the entire morning on the jigsaw puzzle and by lunchtime, we have assembled 999 pieces. (The last piece? We can't find it anywhere!)

For lunch -- no one wants to go out. Besides, we have left over pizza.

But wait -- my afternoon coffee! It's "only" drizzling at the moment. I pick up a very large umbrella and head down to the second cafe in town -- this one at the bottom of the hill. (It's called Cafe 43.)

This one has been around for a while and it has a more old-world ambiance. 

She is shutting down for the day by the time I get there, but I emerge victorious: a latte and some cookie/scone treats for the gang up the hill.

*     *     *

Is it really the case that I'm the only one who stepped outside today? We eat dinner at home: snacks of hummus and cheese. A salad. We want to deplete our grocery supplies, sure, but mostly it is the weather that holds us back. Who wants to stroll to a bar during a Wisconsin monsoon with an arctic feel to it and an occasional rumble of thunder? The Jones House where we are staying is large but very cozy and the heating system keeps it draft free. My two warmth-loving friends especially appreciate this and at this point in my life, so do I. (Many is the place that I will not return to because it is just too cold!) 

After dinner, we take out the Hygge game again. Ask the three questions on the card to the person on your left, except that so often we all chime in with our own answers. It's a conversation after all. And yes, we do learn stuff, even now, 45 years into our friendship.

It's very late when we finally call it a day. Tomorrow, in the rain and in the cold, we pack up, tidy the kitchen and head north to Madison. It's been such a good stay here, in Mineral Point!

with love...