Thursday

They say this is one of the warmest Septembers on record here, in Wisconsin. If you're one of those who likes crisp Fall air, one of those who likes the annual ritual of taking out the corduroys and fall sweaters, then you'd be impatient with this string of warm days.

For me, it's like summer only better. The mornings are cool (though unfortunately too cool for the porch), the sunrise is at a decent hour (so the cheepers aren't restless to get out at an ungodly time) and the early hour is quite pretty, in misty sort of way...






The garden is long past its peak blooming period, but we're not short on color!






And though we do eat breakfast inside...






... as the day progresses, I shed my sweater and take in the warmth of this beautiful season.

I'm with Snowdrop quite early today -- there to watch her wake up, there to give her a morning bath, there to feed her breakfast.



a delightfully original way to suck a thumb: she indicates her hunger here...



On my lap now, after her meal, with that satiated look of contentment... I should note that the girl really loves selfies and timed release photos:






We play upstairs...



chillin'





if you're happy and you know it...


... and downstairs...



mirrors are so interesting! they don't reflect just you...





if you're happy and you know it then your face will really show it...



And then, after her nap, grandpa Ed, who seems to have been missing us over at the farmhouse, comes over and when I look at her next to him, I think -- wow, she seems small...






... and the three of us go out for a lovely walk around the little lake.






Yes, these are the last days of summer-like delights.






Back at Snowdrop's home, we wait for her parents to return. I am amazed (but not really) at how different guy play is with little ones. And how much the little ones love it. Here's Snowdrop, chillin' on Ed's lap...






And here she is, delighted to see her parents come home.






The evening is a bit unusual in that Ed and I have a guest, a Tormach colleague of Ed's, but we're all rather casual and laid back about it and I have a chance to ask about various places to explore in England as the visitor hails from there.

The evening, of course, comes early and especially early for the two hens, whom we put away before 7 now and it's a lovely ritual, as they now doze calmly on the fence by the coop and swooping them up together is an act of protection and an opportunity for an affectionate pat on the back.





A summery fall day. You couldn't ask for a better one.

quiet Wednesday

I love days that are packed with all that you could possibly squeeze in. But honestly, interspersed among those, I love days that are quiet. No flood pf photos. No ambitious projects. No stunning weather report (just a very good one!), no great food to parade before you.

Just quiet.

Breakfast...






Appreciating what remains in bloom in the garden and this includes my beloved annuals, such as the honey-fragrant alyssum, which the cheepers love to munch on in early spring, but ignore now that there's so much else to turn to.






Eventually, I'm at Snowdrop's home, where, too, we keep it down to a quiet repetition of things she knows and loves (no real cheepers to admire today -- just pictures of them in story books).






Is it a serious day? No, not exactly that. Just calm.






(I have to smile when she admires the mirror image of herself, if only for a second: it's much more fun to pick up the piece of fabric and chomp on it.)






Two more photos -- of our walk around the little lake. I want to highlight the loveliness of the shoreline...






... and of course, there's the smiley girl herself.






The evening is quiet too, though I am stuck on the phone arguing with airlines about travel configurations, but it's okay. The thing about quiet days is that they make you perfectly ready to manage less quiet negotiations.

first day of Fall

My younger girl got married on the first day of summer and my older girl got married on the first day of fall. Ah, so that's today, no? Indeed, Snowdrop's mom and dad are celebrating an anniversary.

I haven't a lot of free minutes today and as a result, for those who prefer photos to words -- you're in luck! Not much time for text. But I promise, you'll get a fine feel for my day, or anyone's day -- that is anyone lucky enough to wake up to golden sunshine, with cheepers clamoring to get out and get going. Lucky enough to have an Ed patiently letting me take that photo. And lucky enough to have Snowdrop in her life -- a Snowdrop who is utterly exuberant today. No dainty smiles and sheepish grins: she is all about laughter!

Here we go:

Fall sunrise:






Scotch early in the morning:






Sheep shed grapes:






The first day of fall, but not the last rose of the year and probably not the last day lily either:






My breakfast photo hero:







And now at Snowdrop's home. Here she is after her bath, waiting patiently for her breakfast:






Now here come the guffaws:


















With an occasional needed reassurance that it really is okay to laugh that much:






Oh, here's a more serious moment (possibly because this was restricted play: can't chomp on those matryoshka dolls):






Continued joviality during walk around the little lake:






Toward evening, I bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse while her parents go out for a celebratory meal. It's a beautiful day and we spend a bit of it outside. With cheepers nearby...






... Snowdrop could spend a very long time studying a blade of grass.






And I could spend forever studying her:






Especially as the sun goes down and the colors turn golden:






Inside again, the usual:






And then she discovers a toy I had purchased for her for the newborn years. I want to tell her -- you were just a baby then!






Her parents show up. A happy reunion:






First day of fall indeed. May it portend a season of sun dappled days and love filled moments!

Monday

What would a grand farmhouse day have, for a little girl Snowdrop's age? It's not hard to figure this out:

It would have a rested grandma -- one who ate a hearty breakfast (with grandpa Ed), to keep those energies flowing...






Grandma would have checked the garden before the girl's arrival...






... and done some spot weeding, so she'd have more time for the little one when she arrived.






It would be a sunny day, but not to warm. The kind of day that makes you just want to sit in the grass, underneath the crab apple and take in breaths of fresh air! Oh, and it would be cool if grandma had some bread for the chickens so they wouldn't be shy about coming near.






There would be plenty of time for play inside too...






Time for a close inspection of favorite toys...






And grandma should be in a dancing mood...






And grandpa should be in a warm and huggy mood...






And when grandma marvels how the little one is dressed in the colors of the kitchen flowers, and the little one clasps a sprig of flowers and topples the whole thing over, creating puddles the size of an ocean, everyone should laugh and laugh, because it really is quite funny!






Other things? Oh, cooking of course. A little girl Snowdrop's age would be fascinated by the roasting and then mashing of coriander seeds. Even slicing onions is a curiosity -- especially to a wee one who seems to love all kitchen activity.

Of course, grandma can't neglect feeding the girl herself. For today, let's put away thoughts of spinach and peas and go back to fruits: how about peaches and mango?






The day spins by so fast!

In the late afternoon, Snowdrop and I go back to her home. It's such a perfect day for a walk around the little lake. Well, we go half way round the lake, then turn around and come back. So it's the same distance, but we stick to the shade of the neighborhood.

Oh! Welcome back, ms. serious face!







Oh, well, never mind.






(I catch us in the shop window... grandma, granddaughter...)






And then it's evening and I'm home, making a complicated but delicious farro and roasted cauliflower salad. With that ground coriander. And onion. And golden raisins soaked in carrot juice. Oh, and lemon. And rind. And mint and parsley. And pistachio nuts. And garlic. Rare is the dish that passes through here that doesn't have garlic in it.





 A fried cheeper egg on top and you've got yourself supper!


We put away the cheepers together. Ed says -- here, let me gather them. I'll show you how it's done. And he gathers them and Scotch flies out of his reach and I laugh and laugh. (She then walks haughtily by herself into the coop.)