Saturday

Everyone slept well last night. The kids, the grownups, presumably the animals. This is most unusual: with little ones, someone is always a little off schedule. With grownups as well: oh! I shouldn't have had that extra cup of coffee, or another helping of wine, or that extra hour at the computer! It's too hot, too cold, too much stress, too much to do -- you know, the usual regrets you have in the middle of the night.

But not so last night. At the farmhouse, the windows were open wide, the breezes were cool, the sun filtered into the room at just the right hour.

It is August alright: I'm slowing down with my morning garden work. If July is lily care time, August is sit back and let it do its own stuff time. Oh, sure, I still spent an hour early today trimming and snipping, but I am noticing more and more lily stalks empty of buds. This is it for you, my dear! The last bloom until next year.

(There are exceptions. For instance, these lilies would beg to disagree!)











A person who is meticulous about her flower beds would plant for all three seasons: spring, summer and fall. Me, I concentrate a little on spring, a lot on summer (especially July), and not much on fall. And so I'm nearing the last stages of the flower beds' riot of color. And that's okay: there's plenty to admire in the garden come late summer and fall. Abundance can be found in places other than the flower fields.

(Cheepers, racing out of the barn in the morning!)






Breakfast...






And then I meet up with Snowdrop and her mom for our farmers market outing.

(Success! I have finally managed to keep a "cherry earring" on a granddaughter for longer than three seconds!)






(The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence...)






(Shoes off!)






(Snowdrop loves to dramatize her facial expressions for the camera. Case in point.)







By early evening, we get the rains! Fleeting but heavy. Ah well, the ground needed a quick soak. What's August without a late day storm!

Friday

A string of sunny days. The kind of weather we once took for granted, before it was tabled and replaced by something more extreme. But today, we're back with bright, warm sunshine. And no, I am not taking it for granted!

It's true that you do not need to roll out the hose when spring and the first part of summer have drenched the soil so thoroughly. Except for watering flower tubs, this year I haven't had to stand for hours soaking the flower beds.

But I have spent a lot of time cleaning off spent flowers. And I do that again today. Nearly two hours of yard work, all before breakfast.

I think to myself: how many books might I have read in the time I've given over to snipping flowers? How many stories might I have written? But the more honest side of me retorts -- and how many more discouraging news stories would I have read on the internet? How many pointless trips to Amazon might I have made?

And here's another fact to consider: summer mornings are exquisite. The light plays in lovely ways on the flower beds, changing them dramatically with each minute. I'm glad I've been a witness to it.























(the roving cat food bowl...)






(where did the cat food go??)







In northern Europe, where I lived for so many years, winter mornings are dreadful. Dawn is so late that working people will have completed their commute before the first wisp of sunlight hits the pavement. But in the summer, the light is with you there, as it is here and each morning is simply sublime.











Breakfast. After 9.






If it's Friday, I must grocery shop.

After, a quick break for a coffee...






... and off I go to claim Snowdrop. She is tired in the way that she always is tired when the day has had endless time in the playground and a morning at the community pool, to say nothing of the usual school thisis and thats. So as always, when she asks to pick a flower at the farmette, I acquiesce.






So many blooms! The garden can spare one.






She places it in her little collection of this week's pickings...






... then proceeds to get her own snack -- same thing as always (cherries, a tiny ice cream sandwich, cheddar bunnies), arranged in the same place on the orange couch, where she loves to snuggle as we make our way through chosen books for the day.

There's a little time to play still. I am amused that she has returned to toys she hasn't touched for years. Primrose and Sparrow have refocused her attention on them. Young Lego sets! With lots of kid characters to make her stories exciting! (See the pitchfork leaning against the barn? This is Sparrow's absolute favorite toy in the world. When he comes to the farmhouse, he makes a beeline for the playroom, searching everywhere until he finds it. We cannot understand the attraction!)






In the late late afternoon, I drive Snowdrop home. I linger there for a while, because beautiful days and gorgeous evenings call for lingering.












At home again, Ed and I open every window within reach. Evenings are wonderfully cool. The farmhouse is taking in big gulps of summer air. And so are we.

numbers

Yesterday, during the drive from school to farmhouse, Snowdrop informed me -- when I turn sixteen, I can drive! She is four and a half, so it's a safe number of years away, but to her, it appears to be really soon. In some ways, she feels herself already to be "practically grown up."

I wish I had pictures of her mom at this age, but all the photo albums that I so laboriously put together as the kids were growing up are over with her father in Chicago. It's not his fault -- we agreed to store them there for a while and then the while become many years and perhaps forever. But I do have a few random photos from those now distant years and I looked through them today, searching for one when my older girl was about Snowdrop's age. This one is close enough: my daughter is just four and my younger daughter is a half a year old and they are sitting in front of my very first attempt at a flower bed. Oh, how things have grown and moved forward!







Everyone says Snowdrop looks just like her mom did then. I give the picture to Ed who says -- yes, and Sparrow looks like the little baby! People have a funny take on these things.

*   *   *

It's a stunning day today! Utterly gorgeous! (There, I've used both Snowdrop's favorite complimentary term -- "stunning!"  and Ed's "gorgeous!")  The morning is cool and bug free. If you don't long to work outside on days like this, then at heart, you're not really a gardener. Or at least not one who loves to get her hands dirty in soil and flower juices. (My palms look like those of a purple grape harvester when I'm done with snipping spent lilies.) Because I have had house guests and because the bugs had been fierce, I had done only superficial work out there the last handful of days. Today, I set out to correct the omissions. For one thing, I snip millions of spent flower heads. Perhaps several million! It takes me nearly three hours to get the garden in good shape.






"Good shape" these days does not mean perfect shape. In August (and it is August),  you begin to back off. Your expectations are different. Your plants aren't toddlers, or even children. They're more like middle aged specimens, with any number of age related infirmities! You help them look their best, realizing that for the most part, they've done their work for you. Many are inching awfully close to retirement, even as some are refusing to even think about it!












(cheepers, following my every move...)












(one of the many flowers that bees love...)





*  *  *

Breakfast. Today, I could linger over this meal for a very long time.





So why don't I?  After all, I would easily hand over a couple of hours to a restaurant meal. Why not to the porch?  This is the problem with being home: you always, always find things that require immediate attention.

Eventually Ed does coax me into some play: we spend a wonderful hour throwing frisbees at the disc golf course.


*  *  *

In the early afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop. She is full of stories and art work!






At home, we build with legos. And get ready for her mom's birthday celebration!






Hey, look who's here!






I asked Ed to take a photo of my daughter, with me in it. But then the numbers grew. As in life: the family grew!





*  *  *

We eat dinner at Forequarter. I don't take many photos. It's as if on the most special occasions, the camera is in the way...






Well, there's one that's a must: my girl and her two children. Time, marked by an added generation of young ones.





Happy birthday indeed...


*  *  *

At the farmette, the evening light receded earlier now. August. Crisp, a little dry, still so very beautiful.

July ends with smiles

When you get older (all you young people reading this, take note), you start paying attention to your physical capabilities a lot more. You have to expect changes and some of them are likely to reflect a physical slowdown. You can complain and recall wistfully how it once was, or you can simply use the new information and proceed forward with what you've got. My friends (include in this my sweetie) all belong to one of two sets: those who do not talk about limitations and those who recognize them, but choose to proceed forward with a light shrug and a grateful acknowledgement of all that's still good in their lives. Either way, it makes for very fine times together.

And so, it comes as no surprise that Diane's visit at the farmette was completely wonderful. In all the decades that I have known her, in all the travels and visits we have shared, I've never heard her wallow in distress, no matter how stressful life became. It's a good way to move through the inevitable shake ups and perturbations!

This morning, I had an early appointment and so once again I had to be up supremely early, in order to feed the cats...

(what do you have in store for us today, huh?)







... and at least attempt a light lily trim.






Later in the morning, the three of us sit down to breakfast together. It's a gorgeous, breezy day!  The porch is a piece of heaven right now.






The man with the garlic mist came by and so I should be (mostly) mosquito free for the next few days. Life is good!











And then, Diane is off on her return journey and I catch up on a few chores, before heading out to pick up the little girl and bringing her back to the farmette.






Time to rest, read, regroup and rally.






And then go out to dance class.

(cheepers: where is everyone going???)






On time today!





Yes, on time with the day, with the end of July. On time. On schedule. I have not fallen off course in my "week of people!" (See post of a few days back.) And that's no surprise: people, the right people, dont hold you back. They push you forward.

Onto August!