Wednesday in Chicago

We are creatures of custom and routine. Even Ed, who would scoff at the idea that repetition ties him down, still does succumb to the inevitable tug of habit. Why else bike all summer long on Wednesday evenings? He no longer keeps up with the younger generation of bikers who take new and complicated routes then. He follows his own two hour ride. But always on Wednesday eve.

In my Robey room, I do like to begin my day with a glance outside. Today I even got up to photograph that eastern stretch of lake shore architecture just as the sun was rising. It's such a pretty scene!






My walk to Primrose's home reminded me once again that we are in the thick of summer weather here. It's getting warmer again. I feel it. (I love looking at the cheerful signs, placards and paintings on the windows and walls. I know most are ads, but they're happy ads!)






This last set of streets before I turn into Primrose's block is especially green and especially beautiful, especially now.







Primrose has a checkup later this morning and so we're working with a different schedule today. She is napping earlier. Well then, time for me to get to the serious business of eating breakfast.






And just as I finish, the little girl wakes up. With smile upon smile!






"Are we going adventuring again?" Later, Primrose, later.






(Ready and waiting)






However the schedule works itself out, there's always time for play!

Primrose, are you learning to drive a car? You might not need a drivers license by the time you grow up...






She comes back from her appointment healthy as a button (somewhere in these hours a clothing change is needed)...







Want to go adventuring?? 

 (Just look at those eyes sparkle!)






It's hot today. We go to the local park and look for a shady spot. Now is the time to take in trees, the textured leaves, and all that green stuff that is so part of my everyday vocabulary back at the farmette.






Neighborhood parks are not really garden material, but they have their own unique loveliness. They are where you go when dinner is not quite ready and everyone has too much pent up antsyness. It's where you can run, kick a ball, or spread a blanket.

Now is the time for a selfie (on a timed release)!






Home again. I look in the toy box and find this doll. A mermaid doll. Primrose likes it. She's soft and easy to chew. Would it be fair to call this her first doll?






One by one, parents come in. She is always so delighted to see them! (She shows off her new BFF -- Sophie the oh so chewable giraffe.)





It was a great day for the little one. She truly grew and adjusted to the new configuration of habits, introduced by new people, asking of her new things. She is one well adjusted little girl!


So what's missing on this day of summer giggles and smiles, of park walks and recreation -- Chicago style, of strong little legs and big eyes of wonderment at the sight of maple and ivy?

Well, my other grandkids of course. And, too, my older daughter, who is lucky enough to have a summer birthday and so always manages to have a chunk of family around her for it. But not this year. As she turns 37 today, she has of course her own little guys, and partner in life, and very importantly -- friends. Still, I miss giving her a big hug on this day, so that I can wish her all the good things that I wish every single day for both my daughters and their families.

Love is a powerful tug. I hear it and see it everywhere I go and especially when I travel. At airports and train stations, at every crossing and intersection, on the El train, on the Chicago bound bus -- people returning to be close to their loved ones. And I am one of them -- riding back and forth, connecting these two cities in my mind into one whole slice of family and home.

Tuesday in Chicago

Yesterday, the city seemed full of new possibilities. Today, I've settled in. Predawn sky? I glance from my bed... Pretty. Yawn. Back to sleep. Yesterday, I saw new photo opportunities emerge (on my walk to Primrose's home). Today, I didn't think about pictures at all. I thought about babies and children and my children. And Ed.

He has been navigating between trying to get the lowdown on the rattles and clunks in my car (it seems to be so rusty in so many places -- this is the problem of living through eleven years of wintry, salty roads), and tending to the cheepers and Stop Sign, and working on chopping up the two trees he felled this month, and getting ready to build pieces of furniture that my mom purchased for her apartment.

My own schedule in Chicago is much lighter: I have my day with Primrose and granted, there's a lot of up and down and round and round, but this is all I have to do. No cooking/clipping/washing/clearing/driving/dashing/ferrying and sadly, no time with Snowdrop and Sparrow. It is always like this: I miss the ones I do not see.

This week is a rare treat for me -- I see a lot of the grandgirl who lives farthest from the farmette. (I tell her all about it. She seems excited. You slept there just last month -- I remind her. Of course, for a baby who is just four months old, that's a chunk of lifetime ago!)






Once more I have breakfast while Primrose naps...






When she wakes up, she is all grins and chortles.






Feeding time. Well, she is stoic. She knows grandma tries to make it fun, even if she can't quite be a mommy. At least not of a little baby!






If you do something two days in a row, it's a routine, no? Our practice has been to head out after this late morning meal. Primrose loooooves adventuring!

(Getting ready to set out...)






(I see you between the bars of the crib!)






Primrose has had a lot of stroller time in her life and it shows. She loves it, as much as some babies may love car seats and car rides. You put her in and she is at once quiet, happy, calm, excited.





Today, we head out to a different neighborhood. You cross the river, navigating a warehouse district that may one day be Amazon land, or at the very least, a place of new construction. The views to the city are quite special.






On the other side, we come to the Sheffield neighborhood (a northern extension of Lincoln Park), where the turn of the century houses are lovely to look at. The community has prospered, really for well over a century. There are places to stop by and refresh yourself. They are well worth the walk. Floriole is Cafe and Bakery is one such spot. Primrose has been here more than once (or twice or even three times).






The pastry selection is small, but everything looks as good as it tastes -- a rarity, in my opinion.






I order lunch. Primrose wakes up from her stroller doze. I consider leaving her in place, but decide against it. Here's a time release photo where the little one is surely wanting a bite of my avocado, pea shoot and poached egg toast. Soon, little one. Just not yet.






(Happy to be told that the day will come when she, too, can point to a pastry and say -- I want that one, please.)






And then we walk home and cycle through a few more feeds, naps and play sessions.

And toward evening. we repeat ourselves again, greeting the mom as she gets off her commuter train.

It's always my intent to scoot off quickly once the parents are home, but today, I linger for just a little while. Primrose is about to put on her concert. I want to be there so that I can one day say -- it's true! The piano maestro started to plunk out tunes on the keyboard when she was just four months old!

("I'm ready. Are you ready, grandma?")






And away she goes!






I'll end my post with that enthusiastic playing.

What? You think I should have included a view from my room? Well alright. The clouds parted for just a wee bit and the city turned orange at sunset. Worth posting, I suppose...





Even as I think the stellar moments today weren't in the sky. They were in the music, in the happy smiles, in the boisterous joie de vivre that my grandkids exhibit every single day of the year.

Monday in Chicago

It can't be time to get up yet, can it? Oh, but the predawn sky is so pretty!






One more cat nap in a luxuriously large bed, then I'm up and running. Not to clip spent lilies, but to make my way to Primrose's home.

It's good to change settings every now and then. I know these streets well, but after a few months of country living, the switch to city landscapes feels dramatic. I may as well have gone off to another country: everything has a feel of the new and different.






Primrose is two and a half months older than Sparrow and just at this age, this seems like a lot. He will stare at a black and white picture for a long while. She's ready to take in an explanation. It's fun to watch, because she is where he will be just around the next corner.

I haven't seen Primrose for several weeks, but she is good at communicating her pleasures and preferences and so I slide easily into a morning of play.

There are many hugs and good byes and flying airplanes way up high in the sky...





... and now the parents are gone and Primrose and I face each other in our day together. The little one has solid routines and the best that I can do for her is to continue them and to make this transition to grandma time (or anyone else's time for that matter) a smooth one.

Her morning nap is essential to her happiness and it is essential for my breakfast!






I linger over it, waiting for her to let me know she's done sleeping.

Nap done, dishes put away. Now what?





Well, she is a baby! The day's cycles repeat themselves: eat, play, nap. Every three hours.

Feeding time comes next. There are many ways you can approach this and I try them all. Her general demeanor is -- "I prefer mommy to anything that you do with me, but I suppose if I can't have her, this will do."






Tummy time for all young babes is de rigeur!





And now is a good time for us to go out exploring.

It's a beautiful day in Chicago and the Bucktown - Wicker Park neighborhood is both pretty and interesting to walk in. Before most of the buildings here were torn down in order to build newfangled condos, this set of bloxks was full of immigrants -- most of them from Poland. Traces of that demographic still remain...





I enter a small park and consider pausing here on a shaded bench. Primrose is lightly dozing. But I am pleased to see that the benches are occupied -- by mommies and nannies, exchanging tales of woe while their kids snuggle, sleep or play. This is how it should be, of course. I find myself wishing that such places of congregating caregivers and their charges were more common in Madison.






I stop at a cafe -- La Colombe, right by the El. The rumble of the train overhead doesn't disturb Primrose's rest, but entering a coffee shop with cool air and the fragrance of caffeine wakes her up instantly. I try for a selfie of the two of us. A client takes pity and offers to take a pic of Primrose and me. Why not!






We're home again. As I wait for her next feeding cycle, she and I play "raddichio." You don't know this game? Neither did I, until today. Kids teach you about what is funny in life.






And now we're coming close to evening. I know the commuter train my daughter will be taking from work. Primrose, want to go out ans surprise your mom?






She is surprised. In the best of ways!






Both parents are home now, Primrose is flying high in the sky, like an airplane!





Time for me to head back to my Robey home. I take a long route, so that I can toss around thoughts of grandchildren and children just a little bit longer. Good thoughts. Happy thoughts.

Sunday: to Chicago

Though we are far from the end of summer, I am, as of today, shifting gears. The snapping and plucking of spent blooms makes sense in July, when the daylilies are the stars, the garden's heart and soul, the lead singers and the chorus all at once. (This morning I snapped off 465 spent blooms.) But in August,  everything changes. The peak of color will have passed. We'll no longer witness a symphony of blooms, but rather a chamber concert, with prominent soloists that catch you by surprise just because you thought that the time for grand flower displays was behind you.

When I was in Giverny (that garden of all gardens) in August, I understood that the beauty of a late summer garden rested in all that had dried and faded, alongside that which was still flowering. It makes little sense to pick spent lilies or really any other flower at this last stage of summer. They look good where they are -- wilting and drying on a stalk that once was their throne and now is their comfy recliner.

I know it's not August yet, but I'm leaving today to go to Chicago. When I return, it will indeed be August and most of the lilies will have stopped their flowering. So, one last early morning of snipping and clipping. Oh, what's this? Well of course! My morning risers and greeters! Okay, I'll feed you all first...





... and then get to work.

What is it, Stop Sign? One big can of food isn't enough? Oh fine. I'll get you some more.






And now for the lilies -- I'll make you stand tall and proud on this last July trim!






In the Big Bed, the flowers are now more gentle, but no less pretty...






Still, it's the bed of lilies by the porch that just knocks my socks off every time I pass by.






Though in fact, every lily is a work of art for me. A masterpiece in her own right. Sheer genius.






I rarely photograph the bed to the west of the porch, perhaps because it's a little overgrown right now. I permitted some of the spreaders (rudbeckia and asclepias come to mind) to run wild. Next year, I should spend more time here.






This little girl was planted last year. Today it's all full of blushing petticoats. Not ruffles, mind you. Just petticoats.






Okay, one last good look at that porch-side flower field...






And now it's time for breakfast.





It's a quiet and gentle moment for us -- one of our last meals together this summer. Or not! Our comings and goings are complicated and there's a bit of uncertainty as to who will be where when. I try hard not to think about that. It's perfect now, this weekend: family on both ends of it, Ed right there, in the middle, over breakfast, on the porch.


And afterwards -- we must get going. Good bye, oh ever changing garden!


 


My car has been making peculiar noises and so we're taking it to a super duper mechanic who we're hoping will have time to look at it and fix it in the week that I am away. From there, I proposed that Ed invite me (!) to brunch at Sardine. For once I want to eat out, with him, away from the farmhouse, away, away, in a bubble of side by side munching on favorite foods.






We linger, but not too long. I have a bus to catch. And then the El, and now I'm in my most favorite Chicago neighborhood -- home to my younger girl and her family.

I'm staying at the Robey Hotel again... (The building towers over the neighborhood and above the El. I always ask for a top floor, looking onto the city. Sometimes I get it. Today I get it)











It's summer in the city! Living on the farmette, one forgets that cities have their own vibe in July and August. In Europe, many of them empty out as people escape for longer vacations. But of course, we are not a nation of longer vacations. And so perhaps it is not surprising that cities, even ones like Madison, but especially ones like Chicago, seduce you to come out and play and take part in any number of outdoor venues or events. 





















I'm staying the whole week. Both parents are now going to be working full time and I am here to entertain and indulge and cuddle and watch over the little four month old Primrose.

Tonight though, I show up at her house when the little girl is already fast asleep. I go over the plan for the week, eat a quick and lovely supper...






... And then retreat to my Robey room high above the neighboring houses. This grandma needs to be well rested for the week ahead. Goodnight, goodnight all my beloveds everywhere!