Friday

In the late afternoon, after a day of being on my feet without pause, I sit down to a cup of espresso, along with the last of the madelines I had brought home for Easter. Ha! Last of the treats... so it must be time to travel again?





Well, no. End of April, all of May, much of June -- those are the best months here (unless, like last year, spring comes late, mosquitoes come early and tornadoes rip through this area). The work outside seems never ending, but it's grand work: digging, tidying, fixing and eventually planting. To travel in this period seems unthinkable -- except when I remember that this is the best time in any number of destinations across the ocean.

As if telepathically intuiting my musings, Odile, the inn keeper from Marseille who is fast becoming a good friend, writes and asks when I will be coming for another visit. Good friends should never live in far away places. I think of my Warsaw friend whose sage advice I could use from time to time -- when will I see her again?

I sip my tiny bit of coffee and I keep an eye on the artichokes that I'm cooking right now. They're nice, but they're large. You could not eat them raw. Still, I think most instructions have you over-cook an artichoke. After fifteen minutes, I drain them and think back to my artichoke salad in Nice. But that was so long ago! Madame who served me the artichoke salad will have had her birthday, the Niçoise season will have moved forward to a warmer set of temperatures. Time doesn't pause.






Even as many things, over time, stay the same. Breakfast in the sun room! Ed, hair still wet from a morning shower, is getting ready to go to his techie meetings.






(Morning sunshine -- that's a surprise! The forecast called for clouds and showers!)






I tell Ed I cannot work in the yard with Oreo's unpredictable mood swings. He points out how much the cheepers band together and enjoy each others company.



(a typical huddle under th lilac bush)


Well yes, but if you took away one, would they notice?





And how mean must Oreo become for me to take the rooster away from Ed?


I go grocery shopping, putting off outdoor jobs until Ed's home again at noon.

And then we work hard. More wood chips to heave onto flower beds, more weeding, more bramble removal. We have a surprisingly lovely day for it.





Cool, but not in a bad away. Looking at the forecast, we have a beautiful set of days before us -- nothing at all like the wretched snows that fell on April 15th in 2014.


In the evening, Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse for a few hours.

Before I even get ready to feed her, she has her funny time with Ed.











He tells me how much she has grown! Yes, she doesn't seem so tiny in his arms anymore.






After her supper, she is ever joyful and expressive and of course, being a grandma, I can give her all of my attention.












The parents come, Snowdrop goes home.






It's late when Ed and I finally give in to tiredness. Upstairs, I leave the window open just a crack. You can hear the owl that way and in the morning, beginning in April, the birds are at their loudest. Who would not love this month?!

Thursday

Yes, it's a "careful what you wish for" kind of day. I wanted rain. All of us who grow things wanted rain. We got it. The night was full of spontaneous cracks of thunder and the rain beat hard on the windows and parapets. We'll be over the April average rainfall by the time this band of wetness moves on.

Not only is breakfast in the kitchen, but the lights are on, the windows are closed, the door to the under-heated sun room is shut tight. Ed asks for pancakes, I eat the usual oatmeal and it all feels cozy in the way that it does only when there's inclement weather out there, beyond our farmhouse walls.




Of course, the rain puts the pressure on to get things done outside. The daffodils are quite high now in all the beds and the perennials, too, are visibly sprouting. We need to lay down the wood chips before it becomes too difficult to spread them in between growing things. Too, I need to finish pulling up the rose brambles and preparing the bed for planting.

The soft earth makes this not too difficult, though I notice that my back has stiffened some after yesterday's marathon weed pulling. It's a fine balance this doing too little and doing too much! Life's dilemmas play themselves out in the garden constantly!
















As Ed and I spread chips, the rains come back. I'm not cold: I want to continue. But, my jacket is wet and the rumble of thunder causes me to finally put down the shovel and pitchfork.


In the afternoon, I am with Snowdrop. Now, you may think that there's not much you can do with a three month old. Wrongo bongo!



grabbing kitty kat





Letting grandma do timed selfies: power to the babe!





kicking and gurgling





quiet time





learning to sit up tall!




a quick walk between downpours





copying each other's silly faces


All in the space of a few hours.

Storms roll in tonight. Tomorrow, I'll be intensely tending to the garden. If you care about your plants, this is the time to get your hands dirty.

Wedensday

The rains come, the sprouts continue to push their way upward and onward. In other words, I have a lot of outdoor work to do. The beds are more or less trimmed, but the raspberries need a thorough preliminary weeding and the flowers would benefit from layers of wood chips. All back breaking work, even as this year, my back appears stronger and my resolve to keep the yard in order? Unwavering.

And so, even though it's cool and gray, immediately after breakfast...



(a plateful of raspberry madelines and chocolate chicks tempts us)


... Ed and I go out to shovel out the deep roots of weeds and to throw down a solid layer of wood chips.

There isn't much that I would photograph from our morning efforts. Well, maybe the ever lovely emerging golden girls...






... and the budding lilac.






I could also photograph the cheepers... (oh, Scotch is so adorable in her new plump state!)...





...except that Oreo and I have a run in and so he gets a time out from Ed, who is convinced that the rooster is teachable, while the hens scatter this way and that, already overfed from a bounty of bugs and worms.

In the afternoon, I am with Snowdrop. That girl! She has an expressive, playful disposition that is indescribably lovable.






Watching her giggle and bounce and clutch and concentrate on getting a good grip with her little fist is mesmerizing! And she responds especially well if you are right there, talking her through her high points and holding her closely when it all gets just a touch overwhelming.

Perhaps one role for a grandma is to help a little one find calmness even in difficult times. Grandmas (especially this grandma) know the value of calmness.






We find time, too, to take our long walk around the lake. Snowdrop's mom joins us and once again we brace for the lakeside winds and bundle Snowdrop's legs in a fleece jacket.






The girl insists on studying the fingers of her hand for the duration of the walk and so she has one very cold fist afterward, but those rosy cheeks and happy smiles (and warm feet, thank goodness) reassure us that she is a girl who adapts well to Wisconsin's weather challenges!

Oh, Snowdrop!

Tuesday

I look outside, hoping for rain. It surely is gray and cold. There was a night shower, but no gardener or farmer would be satisfied with it.

We eat breakfast in the kitchen. To me, the kitchen exudes a warmth of the best kind. It's fitting for a day like this.






Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse earlier than usual. My schedule is flexible. It tracks the needs of the young couple. They know Snowdrop is always welcome here.






Ed notes her energetic and cheerful disposition.


 



She still looks awfully tiny when he holds her!






She plays hard, but she is also more patient with books and quieter activities.



surprising




wryly amusing




shocking



And then it's lunchtime.





And we move smoothly into the afternoon. More cold weather. We're not tempted to go out for a walk, even as I remember a month ago thinking that anything above freezing was spectacular!

Snowdrop's mom comes over and lingers for a while before taking her babe onto her next set of adventures, while I make my way to a local voting place. It's an election day and I'm volunteering to be an election observer (on behalf of a local mayoral candidate). It's boring work, but somebody has to do it! I think about my garden, imagining the new flower bed that I will be creating in several weeks.

When we look forward to spring, we forget that sometimes April, at least April in Wisconsin, can be a tricky month -- full of welcome and unwelcome surprises. We're so set on loving every last bit of the renewal --  the greening of the landscape, the exploding buds --  that any stall in that process makes us impatient.

I wont be impatient. There is plenty to keep me happy now. Consider, for example, the dainty first leaves on the willow branches.





And maybe there will be rain tonight -- the kind that's so loud that we can hear it on the farmhouse roof. Spring dreams. All magnificent, all full of hope.

Monday

Yes, seize that day of good weather! Go out early, open the door of the chicken coop, let out the cheepers... Say what? Oreo! Knock it off! (Oreo, the rooster, is seizing the day alright! He is asserting his masculinity with powerful lunges and I am no longer patient with him. His days at the farmette once again appear to be numbered.)



(the girls, peering inside: hello, anybody home?)


Breakfast in the sun room. A time of peaceful reflection and a time of planning.




  
Here's something we consider: should I attack a big outdoor project this morning?

Yes! I'm up for some heavy yard work!

While Ed gets ready to change the tires of Lilly, my silver car (Lilly came with two sets of wheels and, therefore, with an obligation to do a seasonal change)...





...I take a shovel and attack the huge, overgrown terribly unattractive in my opinion, creeping and creepy rose bed. It has branched out wildly and expansively in the layer of dirt that covers a graveled surface (the farmhouse had a wide and long gravel driveway snaking around its rear). It explodes with prickly stems that leave thorns under your skin if you come anywhere near them, even as there are very few blooms.  I want to rip the horrible invasive tangle of roots and thorny branches out of there and create yet another perennial border. A big project indeed (though not nearly as horrendous as taking control of the even bigger and once weeded over raspberry patch; that project we completed last year).

And so I dig. And dig. And this is cheeper heaven! If there is such a thing as cheeper overeating, they surely are guilty of it! Turning the earth brings up the worms and any number of other bugs. The cheepers are ecstatic.








(Scotch, do you need help getting another treat?)


By noon, I am more than half done with this thorny job. Time to stop, clean up and get on Rosie, the neglected moped, and to make my way to Snowdrop's home.

I haven't visited with Snowdrop on her own turf for several weeks and she is quick to show off her accomplishments with her set of toys -- she grabs, she gurgles, she kicks -- all with the gusto and energy that is so much part of her personality.






That little girl exudes happiness.






Because it is still warm, still dry, I take Snowdrop for a walk by the lake. Yes, someone seems to have pitched a hammock in the park...






Even though to me, the lake still sends off a chilly breeze. Again I bundle Snowdrop's legs with my jacket.

We pause for a while and I watch the DNR (Dept. of Natural Resources) do its fishing operation -- they're counting the lake's fish right now.






The lake waters seem low to me. I'm not surprised. Little snow this winter and a dry spring. Again I look forward to the rains that are to sweep down on us tonight.

The walk is a long one -- Maybe 90 minutes, but Snowdrop loves these stroller expeditions!






And guess what? For the first time since the little one's birth, I come across this:






A brilliant walk! I pass a lot of "badger" paraphernalia in home yards. Not surprised. We're all about basketball right now in our state. Badger basketball. I explain to Snowdrop about competitive sports. She listens, then dozes off.  I smile. She's so little! With so much to learn!

We make our way home. She opens her eyes and gives a little grin.