Sunday

Well, I hardly slept last night. I was so convinced that the baby monitor wasn't set right that I kept myself awake thinking about it. When I dozed off, Isie boy woke me up demanding food. Often times I ignore those predawn requests, or I tell him to get lost, but today I worried that he would wake up Snowdrop and so I caved. After that, I may as well have watched the sun rise. There was to be no more sleep for me.

Snowdrop, on the other hand, had no trouble sleeping eleven hours straight.

My daughter tells me that when she wakes up, she is all smiles and gentle coos and stretches and this proves to be the case at the farmhouse as well. (I obviously failed at swaddling her tightly enough to last the night.)






I follow the patterns that she has at home. That means a prebreakfast bath (she needs it!) and then a nice long feed. And then we have about an hour of play!






But not much longer than that: we have a schedule: Snowdrop, Ed and I are to join my younger girl and her husband as well as my older girl and her friend (Snowdrop's dad has been out of town this weekend) for a celebratory birthday brunch downtown. You'll be wondering -- is it a Polish thing, this prolonged celebration of a birthday? I mean, I've been 62 for nearly two weeks now. But I have never known a daughter to pass my birthday without a meal together to commemorate it and so the Minnesota couple made this their time to wish me a happy birthday.

I dress up Snowdrop for the occasion.






Well, she looks adorable from within, but still, a summer blueberry dress is so joyous on a day when it's supposed to be quite summer-like! (Here, she is being introduced to Sophie, the rubber giraffe which I read on Amazon has been a beloved teething toy in France for decades.)






We eat heartily at brunch, and it is the sad reality that after the meal, the Twin Cities duo has to pack up and head home. The best thing to remember at a time like this is that their next visit will take place later this month. I can wait a few days! Sigh...






Ed and I head home. We now have a long list of gardening tasks before us, not the least of which is planting the tomatoes into the ground.






I promised Ed that my predictions of no more frost would hold (in previous years my predictions were so off that we were left throwing blankets and sleeping bags at night over the prematurely planted tomatoes)!






We set to work.





Unlike planting flowers, the tomato job is back breaking and tedious because the veggie field always has weeds that need to come out before the seedlings go in and of course, there are just so many tomatoes! We make good progress, but we're not even half done when we stop to rest.

The winds are gusting and there may be a few storms passing through later tonight. For now, it's a gorgeous day. And I'll remember it as such.

oh May, oh my!

Glorious, blue skies, a warm breeze and radiant sunshine -- you could not wish for a more beautiful May day!

Breakfast on the porch. As I struggle for the hundredth time to take all the foods and plates out and then bring them back in, I tell Ed that it's time for another farmhouse project -- to fashion a door that would lead straight from the kitchen to the porch. He grunts, he protests, but he does not say no. I have hope!






The cheepers stay close to the farmhouse. As we look out at them, strutting this way and that, and at the flower fields that are just now throwing vibrant shoots, it all seems so perfectly balanced and in harmony, so magnificently right!






It's a good feeling -- one of utter tranquility.


Afterwards -- well, perhaps you'll recall that on good weather Saturdays, my daughter and I like to go to the downtown farmers market together. It's about a half hour walk from her place and Snowdrop is a great stroller baby and so the four of us (my daughter's visiting friend joins us) set out to repeat this wonderful tradition. In fact, I'd been going to this market since my girls were wee babes themselves and so it is especially poignant to watch my daughter ready Snowdrop for this most noble excursion!






Three generations, at the market.






The sun is really warm now. Snowdrop's sweater comes off. She is now almost a summer baby. She looks with great curiosity at her foot!






...and at us, as if to say, accusingly, with a pout -- you never told me I had toes!






Let me highlight a favorite product from each market I go to this season. My daughter and her friend may vote for the cheese curds (balanced on the buggy, bottom center)...






I'll vote for the fresh arugula from Snug Haven Farm.





Completely, utterly delicious.


And still later, my younger girl and her husband arrive from the Twin Cities! Snowdrop is thrilled! Others to adore her!






And so the house runneth over with young energy!






The day stays warm and that's grand, because there is some celebrating taking place -- downtown, outdoors, in honor of my older girl's work accomplishments. (Can you tell that I'm dealing with a different age demographic here?!)






Friends. They are so important to us!






And sisters! How could we ever get through tribulations and celebrations without them at our side?











I stick around for a while -- until Snowdrop herself is all partied out and then she and I go home to the farmhouse. She'll sleep here tonight.

[Earlier conversation:
Ed, help me set up the baby monitor! Snowdrop is sleeping here tonight and I need to be able to hear her from upstairs!
But you can hear everything from upstairs!
I want to be sure. I wont be able to sleep if I strain to listen for her cry.
You can hear a mouse walk across the floor. You can hear me right now!
You have a booming voice.
Okay, it's set up. Can you hear me better now?
Well, I can hear you, period. Whisper, so I can test it!
I'm whispering.
Okay, we're set.]

Snowdrop and I play, but only for a little bit.


 


I'm sleepy and contrary to what the photo may suggest, she's exhausted! Goodnight Snowdrop! Sleep tight! And through the night!

May Day

It does not surprise me that the three months of spring all lend themselves to girls' names. I personally know an April and several Junes and, of course, we all know many a May, albeit they're typically of an older generation. No one calls their child July or February. We go to months that give us hope, with flowers thrown in for color.

On May 1st, I always think of maypoles (not to be confused with May Poles) and flower baskets (and I always forget to pay the bills due now because who can think of such prosaic things as expenses when you have, well, May!

It is a beautiful first of the month! Yes, yes, breakfast in the sun room.






A hello (with a bread treat) to the cheepers (Oreo hangs back)...






And then a second (and I think final) trip to the Flower Factory...





...this time to pick up a handful of plants that will plug holes in some of my own flower fields. I'm mindful now as to what thrives and what struggles. I aim for an easy life for all living things here, at the farmette.


And then I load up the car, open the roof (Lilly girl has a wonderful sunroof) and take the rural road home, just to drop off the flowers. And I continue onto Snowdrop's home, where I find her freshly bathed and dressed in her summer duds.






Since there are again many pairs of hands this weekend to hold the little one, my time here is shorter than usual. But long enough for some gymnastics...






... and to witness a string of hearty chortles...






...and long enough for a walk. Just her and me this time (the others are out and about).






(Two pics from our walk: of another grandma plus daughter plus granddaughter, gingerly hugging the rocky shores of the small lake...






...and of two more colorful houses along our path. With a blooming tree out front.)






And of course, afterwards, in the late late afternoon, I return to my flower fields. With total joy.

A different kind of Thursday

There are, it turns out, many ways to enjoy great weather. I think I've already given a full and hearty endorsement to a breakfast in a sunny room!





And of course, working in a flower field would be a terrific way to acknowledge copious amounts of warm spring sunshine pouring down from the heavens today.

But as I drive from one grocery store to the next (weekly shopping day, a tad early because I needed dinner ingredients for tonight), I remind myself that most every adult person who is not yet retired has to take in the sunshine from inside her or his place of work. Lunch hour may create an opportunity to take in the wonderfulness of this last day of April (but feeling more like late May). You'll be grateful if you have that.

In fact, my day is spent mostly indoors. The shopping always takes forever and, too, I have a dinner to prepare. My daughter's good friend who, over the years has become a friend of the whole family is visiting from out of town and add to this merriment yet another friend who lives in Madison and I have, quite by coincidence, a kitchen full of women (and a little girl). (And Ed.)











Fresh spring produce (fava beans, English peas, California berries, etc etc) -- they're all great, but you have to work your fingers deftly around each kernel, each nugget and this takes time.

I do take a short outdoor break...






Just to water the pots and to take stock...



(my favorite of the daffodils)





(the cheepers come running)





(newly planted field)


Otherwise, I make do  with glancing outside from my kitchen windows, loving the display of sunshine that I see outside.


What's for dinner? Some new things to consider:

Poulet Crapaudine -- a chicken split down the back and flattened with your fist (and a couple of weights from my exercise bar!). It's a great way to get a crusty skin and also to roast a bird quickly! (It's excellent with pan fried potatoes.)






Next, there is spring salad of fava beans, English peas, French beans, corn and tomato -- all in a sherry dressing.






And finally a Raspberry Verrine -- a dessert served in a glass dish, so that you can admire the layers of creme patisserie (lightened with buttermilk), smashed raspberries, gingersnap cookies and of course, fresh berries throughout.






Yeah!






You think I'm neglecting Snowdrop, don't you... Not at all! Here she is, being very much in the swing of things!






I remind her that laughter and jovial banter are a good thing. Something to look forward to in life.






I think she already understands the power of friendship...






By now, the beautiful evening has drawn to a close. All the women and the little one have left. I put away one last dish.  It's suddenly very quiet. Of course, quiet is good. I let go of everything and get ready for the next day. And the next day surely will be as good as all the ones leading up to it, no?

Wednesday

A few morning clouds in the sky put us a little closer to spring than summer. But that's fine! Why should we shorten this beautiful season? Why not give it its full run? Summer will come in due course. For now, let's enjoy what can only be enjoyed in April and May!
















Breakfast is a bit hurried. I want to weed portions of the flower fields closer to the sheep shed. The raspberries, too, should get a once over. This is the way I move through the farmette -- from one field to the next, staying more or less (very more or less) in control of what goes on in each.






My schedule with Snowdrop is a little different this week. There are a lot of comings and going's in her home and I'm fitting things in around the rhythm of her house. I do spend a lovely afternoon with her...






...and we do a lot of the old...






...and some of the new.






And of course, it is warm and so a walk around the small lake is essential!









(passing the big lake)





(purple house, pink flowers)


In the evening, I have my monthly meet up with my small group of (mostly retired) law school buddies and once that draws to a close, the day is done.

It is amazing to me that the longer daylight hours seem too short right now. In winter we make do with so much less and now, with the abundance of sunshine and with the long twilight that lasts past the dinner hour, we're spoiled, wanting it to go on and on until we're spent and it's time for bed.

Is it really the end of April already? Amazing!