Saturday - 22nd

If you love sunshine, this day was made for you. If you love warm weather -- well, that's a problem. We're at a high of 47F (8C). Looking ahead, I'm not sure the weather is going to please anyone. Periods of rain, maybe some snow showers, periods of cold -- the kind of stuff that at some level questions your allegiance to the Upper Midwest.

On the upside, there is that sunshine. We'll take it!

At breakfast, I open up the box of new seeds. I ordered some from two places and though both were delayed, I finally got my packets from Johnny's Selected Seeds. I'd never purchased these before so I have no idea how great they'll be, but hey, seeds are seeds, right?





I tell Ed that we should be planting the spinach ones right now.
As in today? Because the bed isn't cleared yet.
But didn't we weed the strip of land for this year's veggies already?
We did the tomato patch. Nothing else.

(This is mildly amusing, since our tomatoes wont be going into the ground until mid May at the earliest. Why not just switch the beds around? Perhaps because it's sunny and we can push ourselves to dig up the rest of the bed and get the whole area prepped for planting.)

Beautiful day!






But heavy work. The soil in my flower beds has been improved tremendously over the years. We've added chips, compost, the cheepers have added droppings. Honestly, it's easy as pie to dig there now. But farmette land elsewhere is one heavy clay pack. You could make pottery pieces out of it. Digging out weeds (with a pitchfork, then with your hands) is backbreaking work. I do one row, Ed does another. Then we rake it all down.






But we finish it! In the afternoon, we lay down some composted stuff and some weed killing (one can hope) cardboard in between the soon to be spinach rows. Tomorrow we'll plant.

In the meantime, what's blooming here at the farmette?











Yeah! Not bad for early April!

In between all this I have a number of social calls. In one day, I skype with Warsaw, FaceTime with Chicago, Zoom with Florida and New Mexico, And have a regular old phone chat with Sun Prairie.

(here's the Zoom chat!)





None of this makes up for what should have been. A visit to Warsaw. The weekend getaway with my two best buds in the southern states. And of course, a farmette visit for the Chicago young family. But sad is the person who wants more than what is before them! I loved my precious minutes so deftly handed to me by our miraculous technology! Primrose shopped for groceries and her mom told me about their supper plans for the evening. I could almost smell the cookies they had baked and I could certainly hear the happy sounds of a little girl playing a real two year old's version of hide and seek.

These are the days when you learn to love extra much all that golden sunshine. So what that it's still cold outside? Wear a jacket. Then go out if you can and revel in that beautiful early spring light out there!

Friday - 21st

In the scheme of things, three weeks is not a long time. You plant seeds and in three weeks you're going to see the tiniest sprout. Three weeks do not give you enough days to write a book or build a house. Maybe just barely enough time to plan a vacation.

But doesn't it feel like the last three weeks have completely transformed our lives?

Most wise people will tell you not to just focus on all that has changed since, say, three weeks ago. Focus, too, on what has stayed the same. If you have kids, this is especially important: remind them that you are still by their side, pushing vegetables at mealtime, and yelling at them to clean up their room. Just like before.

In our lives, I, too, love all that has stayed the same. There is breakfast...






And there are animals to feed and seeds to plant.






Having spotted one flower on April 1st, I'm now searching for the next one. Scilla siberica!






You and I know what is next in line: the lovely, bountiful daffodil. Any moment now! Or, maybe this already counts?






(In a race with the Helleborus!)






As far as grandkids go, well, my visits with Primrose are put on hold, though the reality is that our most frequent communications have always been via FaceTime. And those remain in place! As far as the Madison bunch -- thus far, I've been able to spend time with them every day (with the exception of Saturdays which are 100% farmette work days). This is as it was before. Today, as most Fridays, Snowdrop is with us.






She is a true flower girl: she loves every farmette bloom. Usually I tell her she cannot bring any of them inside. But withe these dainty blue scillas, I can make an exception.






Her big interest this afternoon though, is to make use of the net and ball she brought with her from home. She is dying to play volley ball with Ed! But Snowdrop, is that a volley ball net? No, but it's the only net I have!















A lovely game. Nobody won! Or, perhaps it's more accurate to say that everyone is/was a winner.


There's a bit of rain in the evening. The quintessential April shower. So familiar, no?

And I'm cooking up a soup that I"ve cooked a million times before: veggies with cannellini beans. With grated cheese on top.



Before you fall into a tailspin of all that has changed, it really does help to think about all that you have not lost. Still eating oatmeal for breakfast? Popcorn in the evening? Still posting on a blog daily? Sending texts to your kids, full of advice they probably do not need? Still breaking off a square of chocolate every single evening, because it's just such a perfect way to end an evening meal? Well now, isn't that something to be grateful for!

Grateful: for the sweet things that remain solidly in place. And of course, for all the intense work done by so many in these tough, tough days.

Thursday - 20th: children, a party and tomatoes

A big day for us here, at the farmette. A big, beautiful day! For the first time this year, we topped 60F (just over 15C) today!


I am up early. Lots to do! Ed, breakfast!






The kids are here in the morning.






I should have coaxed them to stay outside, but mornings are slow to warm up. That's fine. We have books to read, games to play...

















They leave a tad earlier than usual. I have a party to host!

It's a party that was necessarily cancelled at its earlier date -- March 16th. I was supposed to cook dinner for a group of friends then. In Warsaw. Polish friends whom I have known for more than fifty years. Ten of us, celebrating getting together after a year's break.

Of course, I did not go to Warsaw. Instead, Ed and I went into isolation, as did much of the world, or at least the world of people in our demographic.

All my Polish friends live in or just outside Warsaw. It's easy for them to do stuff together. Except of course, it's impossible right now. Restrictions are so tight in Poland, that you are not allowed to go out even for exercise. Dog walking is okay. A grocery store outing? Okay. A hike, a ,jog or a bike ride? No.

And here's another tough blow: nearly all my friends have kids and grandkids who live abroad. Several in the U.S., others -- spread out from England to Italy. Suddenly, seeing the people you love takes on a new meaning.

The idea was floated that my group should have a Zoom party. Their evening is my early afternoon. No matter, pour a glass of wine and join us!






We lasted several hours. I think we all expected it to be business as usual -- light in our banter, as before. That didn't happen. We turned serious pretty quickly. Oh, there were breakout moments (Ed, who was in the background and understood none of it, maintained that I laughed a lot) but still, mostly, we talked about life as we find it today.



Late afternoon. The weather is still splendid. It's time for us farmer wannabes to plant the tomato seeds.





As always, we put the seeds into little cups. We're using last year's seeds, because this year's are lost in transit somewhere. I suggest we turn on the hose water outside (after a winter hiatus). Something breaks. Unstoppable water comes gushing out of the spigot.

Of course, I knew something would break during our period of isolation. Something always breaks at the farmette. Ed caps the mad flow of water for now and ponders as to where the break may be. I return to putting in seeds. In this small way, our April days are unfolding as they did last year and the year before.






Dinner? Oh, I have to make inroads on all that frozen fish from our year-long support of small fisheries of Alaska! How about seared tuna with chimichurri? And a sweet potato? And asparagus?


It's not easy to feel peace when the world is in such chaos. But one must try. And find time to reflect about the noble work of all those heroic people who cannot afford to pause, not even for a moment.

With love.

Wednesday - 19th

All the beans are still in the bag: no one in my family is sick, everyone is proceeding according to the new normal.

And, there is sunshine!

And, we are warming up this week! The kittens are sunning themselves, the cheepers are enjoying their own special resting spot by the hydrangeas.

You can almost (but not quite) forget that we are living in very abnormal times.

As you would expect, the farmhouse breakfast routine remains undisturbed. I wait for him, he comes down, we dig into our bowls of fruit and today -- our bowls of oatmeal.






And then come the screen time hours. FaceTime chats, zoom calls, texts, emails. Not ever phone calls anymore (except with my mom). Or at least not ones that require me holding an actual phone. The computer or tablet has seized most of our waking hours. Almost surreptitiously, Amazon has become the supplier of all stuff,  and the computer has turned into our important information source, and our instrument of social connection. Gone is the guilt that once came with "too much screen time." These days, we are ever so grateful for all that the internet can offer. For better or worse, it is as much a regular feature of our mornings as is the first morning meal.





The afternoon, however, belongs to Snowdrop. Sunshine, or partial sunshine, pushes us outside.  Well, it pushes me outside. She's anxious to retreat to the farmhouse. So many books to read! Snacks to devour! But when she hears Ed is out in the field, clearing what is to be the tomato patch, she wants to join in the effort.

All photos are from our time out in the field.






"Can I pet a chicken?"






(milkweed seeds)











(First farmette flower!)






Evening. You'd think I'd join the legions who are cooking up a storm during their confinement. Not so. Despite all those years of restaurant cooking, of family cooking, of just lots and lots of cooking, the idea of teaching myself something new with new combinations of rarely used by me ingredients is just not taking hold right now. I want the familiar. I want the predictable, the known, the tried and true.

So once again I bake a frittata. And not even a novel one. The usual -- with cheeper eggs, spinach, mushrooms, potato and two kinds of cheeses.





I suppose if I had my grandma's recipe for pierogi, I'd make them now. But I don't. I may be the only Pole alive who has never made pierogi. Instead, there's a cheesy frittata browning in the oven right now.

Tuesday - 18th

There are three ways to view time right now: maddening in its fast progression (anything having to do with treating the sick would fall in this category), insanely slow (perhaps being stuck in tight quarters with very young kids and a stack of work, and no clue as to how long this will last can be lumped here), or the third -- a wild ride between breakneck speed and a grinding slow pace. Sometimes I think I'm right smack in the middle of the third: I alternate between having too much to do and having too much available time for stuff like reading news.

I just at this second promised Ed that I will greatly improve my time management skills with the first day of April. That would be tomorrow. I'm on it!

I suppose the coming of spring follows similar distinct paths. Sometimes it comes charging at us with the speed of lightening. (This is rare.) Other times? Slow as anything. Like one of those inch worms taking its sweet time crossing your path. Hurry up already! Then there was last year's spring: fluctuating wildly between the two -- giving us snow in the middle of April, but plenty of sunshine before and after.

So what's this year like? It feels slow, but perhaps world events have shaded my thinking about it. We want to move away from where we are now, even as we understand that we cannot. So, too, we want the colors of spring to take hold, even though that's an unreasonable expectation. I mean, it's still March today! I'd say we're not doing bad, considering!

(Looking toward the lily bed...)






Breakfast. Oatmeal for both. His is always with maple syrup.






For now, our schedule is such that on Tuesdays I go to the young family's place in the morning to play with the kids there.











It's not something that they're used to, which has its good sides: I can explore their books and toys with them from a new angle, since it's all unfamiliar stuff for me.  On the other hand, it doesn't offer them a change of scene. Still, there's plenty to do (even though it's a cold and gray day and so you really have to work hard to get your giggles out. I think we managed okay!).











...With some solid reading and quiet play times thrown in and some spirited games of "hide the treasure" in between, which I think passed Sparrow by, though he did love yelling "hot!" and "col!" at the top of his voice, just like his sister.






Toward evening, Ed bakes brownies. His cookies are long gone. I guess we're more of a sweets eating family than I thought. Or it could be that chocolate laced treats are more appealing at a time when spring seems pokey and life has suddenly grown complicated.





Dinner? Oh, leftovers from Sunday. Ed has taught me a lot of things -- one of them being to truly love leftovers.

Monday - 17th

I've taken to asking Ed when I wake up -- anything good out there to report (he is always reading stuff)? Lately, he always says "nope."

It's a signal that I should start the day with something other than reading the news (in the course of the day, I actually read two national papers, one from Chicago and one from Warsaw. Sometimes I add a British one and a third national. Plus some magazine stuff. We err on the side of being too well informed.)

Of course, not having anything good to report doesn't necessarily mean that it's 100% bad out there. When I do sit down to do my browsing and reading, I look for the bright notes in a sea of tragedy. And those bright notes become the topic of our breakfast discussions.






One tiny bright note for us this morning is the reappearance of sunshine. It's so lovely to see it once again! The cheepers do their grooming in its glorious warmth, the cats bounce from one end of the path to the other, and we all walk with that sprint that's been missing the past few days.


The kids come over in the morning and again I start them off with yoga.






Sparrow does try to keep up, but Cosmic Yoga is just too fast for him.






Snowdrop, on the other hand, is thrilled to see that the episode I chose tracks the story of Frozen. She is a devoted Frozen fan.






Monday play, Monday art. Monday reading. The kids are easy to please on this first day of the week, for obvious reasons -- they have been stuck at home for several days and the farmhouse once again appears quaint.

Lunch? Oh, nothing original. Their usual choices.











Afterwards, I drive them home in a warm car. It's been a long time since I have opened the door to a warm car!


In the late afternoon, Ed works on getting the veggie bed ready. Little Tomato always helps. (She's our greatest worm spotter.)






I take a solo walk. Nothing big, nothing fancy. I think about how luxurious it is just to walk, even as so many people have to rush to a workplace that is suddenly so very terrifying. Not for a minute do I forget to appreciate how beautiful it is to have nowhere to go, except up the road and back home again. Especially on this still cool but very bright and springlike day.






(along the road...)






Dinner? Cheeper eggs and broccoli! Both beloved here, at the farmette.

Sunday - 16th

You want to go out for a hike?
No.
Not at all?
It's too cold. With a threat of rain. But okay, I guess we have to.

That summarizes my attitude toward the great outdoors right now: no, but okay, I guess we have to.

In my head I have this mental calculus of 40sF (upwards of 5C) in March, 50sF (upwards of 10C) in April, 60sF (upwards of 15C) in May and so forth. We're not off course. It's March and we're in the 40sF. But this is no early and beautiful spring. Instead, it's the kind of weather we usually like to dislike. Weather that leaves us grumbling -- why can't it be real spring already??

Breakfast is late, house cleaning is late, everything is late today. We use the hours of the day to touch base with this person, that person. People we care about. It's time well spent.

(breakfast)





And yes, we do finally go out to our small county park. Forced pleasure! Not quite the same as the exuberance one might feel if, say, it were ten degrees warmer and a lot less cloudy.






(Hi, great big oak tree, standing next to a boggy, muddy pathway...)






In the evening the young family comes over for dinner. We're still all in total isolation, which makes these Sunday meals possible.

Time to bring out the cheese and crackers and red pepper strips, just to get us in the dinner mood...






And to cook up the much washed with soapy water squid (don't ask... washing freshly handled squid was an experience not worth repeating)!

And the usual pasta, home made sauce, shrimp, salad, and one last go around on fresh corn for the kids.






Evening again. Warm, cozy, evening. Dishes done. Another calm and peaceful day behind us. How insanely lucky to have had such a day. So very very lucky.