Like a Swallow

Here I am, on my first morning in Montreal, trying to savor the loveliness of a breakfast with a granola like no other and a delicious cup of coffee, thinking about my excursion for the day (with the young family, to a park) and about the loveliness of this city, and I've got to put all that aside, because I have promised myself (and others) that this would be the day I will finally focus on my book, with an official release date of today. You know the title -- Like a Swallow: Looking Back at a Polish Childhood.

What lead me to imagine that a memoir of growing up in postwar Poland was a fine idea? Why did it take so long to finish it? And finally -- what am I trying to sort out in the pages of this book? I addressed some of these questions at the book launch tonight (from Montreal, of all places, though no, not in French!). But there is one overriding theme for me, one big reason for putting all my recollections down on paper: I want people to let go of preformed opinions of how life proceeded in Eastern Bloc countries after the war. Nothing is as straightforward as you may wish it to be. Here, for example, is my childhood. Little about it felt drab, dank, dark, or without hope. Yes, it's just one story of how life unfolded under so called communism in Poland, and, too, in the shadow of anti-communism in America. But maybe it'll free you to imagine other people's stories and see in them a diversity of paths followed, even though, in the end, we chased the same dreams: love, always love, and perhaps kids and a decent job, affording a roof over our heads and well cooked foods on the table.

Call me lucky, call me resourceful, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that there were a bunch of happy commie kids cavorting in city parks, eating ice cream between wafers, picking mushrooms in the woods after a rain shower, taking hikes in the mountains to the south, and I was one of them. Which is not to say that I or my parents believed in the end that Poland was on a good path forward. We didn't and it wasn't. But, of all the good endings to those tough years, we got a winner: in 1989, we had a democratically elected government that was set in place to serve the people of my country. Though now it could be argued that it does nothing of the sort, but that's someone else's story. My childhood belonged fully to Poland under (so-called) communism and to anti-communist America. That's what my book is about.

Here we are, my small group of family and friends, drinking a toast to the launch, to our past and to a better future. Always that!

I do want to take note of this very beautiful day in Montreal though! The weather was pretty near perfect. Partly cloudy, not too warm. My hotel is in Vieux Montreal (Old Montreal): I get to be immersed in the history, but I miss a neighborhood feel to this part of town. On a Friday morning, the tourists that normally fill these streets are still in their hotel rooms. My morning walk is along empty streets. Which is nice!

I'm looking for Olive et Gourmando, a cafe that comes highly recommended to me. It would help if I followed directions well, but I don't and so the walk is long and I retrace my steps and start all over again. 

Here it is! Finally... Oh the familiar breakfast of granola, fruit and yogurt! With a cappuccino.

From there, I walk up to the metro stop. (When you leave Vieux Montreal, you immediately touch on the more modern downtown area. Sort of like Portland Maine, meeting up with New York City.) 

I can't keep blowing money on Uber rides, so I buy a three day metro pass and learn to navigate the system. Clean, not crowded, and mask compliance is at 99%. With a good breeze circulating throughout. Really excellent! 

I get out in my daughter's Airbnb neighborhood (the Plateau). Very residential, very interesting blocks. And very green. Pretty. 

They headed out to a nearby park -- "La Fontaine" -- this one:

I meet them there. The kids have a wonderful time in the playground.

It's good to sit in the shade for a while and just take it all in.

We eat lunch at the nearby restaurant (La Banquise) known for it's poutine. You know that Quebecois dish? French fries, cheese curds, gravy, maybe some meats thrown in?  Three of us go for it!

Me and the kids take a pass. They eat hot dogs, I eat a famously wonderful Montreal bagel. With goat cheese. (And no, Sparrow is not walking around with a dirty face. The day before the trip he had a school playground accident: Face down. Bruises remain.)

The kids are tired so they return home to rest. My daughter and I go shopping. For art supplies, for anything and nothing. For coffee!

And eventually I take my metro back (who do I pass on the way, out for an ice cream!! It is a small town after all...).

We reunite for dinner at the Boswell Brasserie.

They do like to fry things in Quebec. So, Wisconsin is not the only place where you can find fried cheese curds!

As for Sandpiper -- he ate up a full adult plate of scallops. For some reason, that little guy really loves... scallops.

And I know this is a very "facts only" sketch of our first full day here, but the day has only so many hours and I have only so many stories that I can deliver in the course of it!

Of course, one thing must be obvious: it's a joy to be here, to be anywhere with this spirited group, and it was great fun to launch Like a Swallow tonight! Onto more adventures tomorrow.

... 

to Montreal

Morning on the farmette... So pretty in June!

Breakfast with my sweetie.

Now leap forward toward evening, and I am (along with the young family) in Montreal. Vacation time! You're thinking -- why Montreal? I'm going to say -- oh, for so many reasons! I'll list some, in no particular order:

1. They speak French here. My son-in-law loves brushing up on his French. He would be quite happy to vacation with his family in France right now, I'm sure of it, but, they are a large family and some of those members are not fun to take on long overseas trips (by virtue of age, to say nothing of the expense involved). Plus, he has been diligently studying Quebecois French so Montreal is a win win.

2. My daughter, married to said son-in-law, is not a fan of long and complicated trips. Montreal is not complicated and it is not far. Win win.

3. We all live in what you could call a very small city, or a very large town. This means that vacations in bigger cities are an attractive proposition. Win.

4. The Quebecois are sort of like the French in that they have a bit of a food obsession. Eating here is fun and tasty. Possibly not with food fussy kids, but oh well. Eat or starve, guys!

5. None of us have spent a huge amount of time in Montreal so there's a lot to explore that's new and interesting. Plus the city has (we have been told) many good parks. Kids love parks. When they feel they can't take another new dish of Quebecois food, they can release their pent-up frustrations in the park! Win win.

I could go on. But let me go back to the morning of departure. Not fully packed, in a rush to get clothes into suitcase and suitcase into car, and to eat that final breakfast with Ed, and get to the airport on time for my flight to Detroit. From there -- a second short (in the scheme of things) flight to Montreal.

All mostly smooth, no big snafus. I do not regard, for instance, the angry passenger on the flight to Canada as being a snafu. More of a big mouth: "Ma'am, does all of Canada require masks or is it only flights into Canada? Because I'm telling you, no one wears masks anymore. Like, this thing, this "pandemic"  is over! It's been over for a long time!" The flight attendant was polite and assured him that Canada, the country, would go easy on him once he gets out of the airport. I mean, yeah! It's over, already!

I'm not sitting next to the big mouth. The luck holds.

The young family is staying in an AirBnb a little ways away from where I am (and they arrived earlier than I did). This does create some transportation and meetup challenges, but the city is well served by a metro line (and Uber drivers when I am just beyond tired), so I figure I may as well pick a hotel that I like and not worry about the distance to their place. From the airport I go straight to the William Gray.

The architecturally interesting William Gray. Part old, part new, though even the old feels new. 

I do understand that if I am going to stay at the lovely William Gray, I have to go for the tiniest (aka cheapest) room available. But honestly, I do not dance, I do not saunter, I do not move much in a hotel room, so it's okay! Indeed, when I book the place, I say -- little is fine. Put me in a room with a decent view and I'll be happy. But then, what they did is they upgraded me. I'm in a bigger room. The penalty? A shitty view. So which would you prefer -- the room or the view? Well, no matter. I like free upgrades so I take it. Besides, there is absolutely nothing else available anywhere for miles around. Montreal is in a swinging mood!

(the room)

But I don't linger much in the hotel. My challenge for tonight is simply to get over to our dinner spot for the evening -- the Caribou Gourmand. The young family can walk to it, I ride an Uber. [We prebooked every dinner for the time we're here. You have to: our group ranges from at times 6 to as many as 11. You can't be spontaneous and Covid safe with 11 dinners searching for space and good food!]

The Caribou is a cool place that serves dishes not often seen outside Canada. Like seal. Honestly, I could order seal, but I'm not one who would find this idea to be appealing or even intriguing so I settle for their totally awesome special for this week: mussels! They are apparently in super season. Prepared in all sorts of ways! Delicious.

Back at the hotel, I go up to the hotel's rooftop, just to see the view that I a missing from my room. Pretty good! 

But you know, as you sit back and do your work in the dark of the night, you really do not care about the view. You care about the quiet (the room is super quiet), the comfort (the big chair is super comfortable), the WiFi. And then you just roll to bed and go to sleep. 

First evening in Canada --a success! 

Preparing to go

Did you notice that we are starting in on June? Well, I need to pack. I'll be gone a week. Must think about what I will need. But first: admire flowers that managed to squeeze in a blooming period before I take off.

Water the tubs thoroughly. Transplant just a couple more plants. Lily here, hosta there, lavender elsewhere. Though really, I need to pack.

Of course, we all need a healthy start to the day. Breakfast. Fresh and Honest. On the porch. Ed and I talk about what happens when someone paid to work for you doesn't do a very good job. We both are suffering the consequences of this in very different domains.

I really need to pack. But before that -- I hit the computer and rewrite a piece about my book. I'm fussy. There -- that's better. 

Beautiful day and here I am, stuck doing laundry now! A pre travel necessity. Oh damn! The drains are clogged once again! Basement's flooded. Ed is fighting a losing battle here. He works on a temporary fix, I retreat upstairs and register travel documents online.

I should pack. How can I pack when I haven't finished doing the laundry? I'm not that rich in spare outfits (which is a good thing)! So I run errands, USPS, UPS, FFP. Boring stuff, but someone has to do it. 

And then? Pack, right? Wrongo bongo. The seeds arrived for the newest addition to the new orchard meadow. I know, I know, you can't keep up with all these meadows and old orchards, new orchards, peach orchards! We take care of a lot of stuff out here! And now -- I sow, Ed rakes. Good luck seeds! Do a good job of outcompeting the weeds!

Ed goes off to bike. I need to write a second piece for the Like A Swallow launch. I need to bake a frittata that will last Ed a few days after I leave. I need to pack.

Instead, I write my book launch piece: dearly beloved... No, just kidding! I'll post excerpts here on Friday. Because the book launch is... on Friday!

But in the meantime, tomorrow morning I'm taking off. Alone, but the plan is that I will meet up with the Madison young family over there. Over where? I'm way too busy to write about that now. But I can tell you this: I'm leaving tomorrow morning, my flights are short, and I'll arrive in time for dinner with the family. So I really need to pack!

Tuesday

Warm air, early wake up, sinuses itch, but hey, it's such a pretty day!

I miss the half of the family that's not here.

Ed sleeps, I wake him -- it's going to rain! You should move the wagon and tractor! He mumbles from upstairs -- can you do it? I cant back up a wagon! Yes you can. I back up the wagon and haul the machine into the barn. 

It does not rain.

Breakfast -- we both have fruit, I have oatmeal, he has leftover popcorn. What is wrong with that -- he asks.

I check my computer. My friend, the affable and ever resourceful George, who has ties to the printed press, ties to the world of professional photography, even ties to the world of lawyers, and now newly formed ties to the folks at the University Memorial Union, sought clarification on the photo policy that lead to the guard's telling me yesterday to not take pictures of my family at our outdoor lunch. His inquiry produced this response (which he forwarded to me):

We are so sorry. This was an incorrect application of our photo and video policy. Our policies do not prohibit personal photography as long as the photography is not occurring on the Outdoor UW and Hoofer docks. We will contact our building management team immediately.

Now all I have to do is confidently assert my rights next time I'm challenged.

What's blooming? Every day reveals something new.

Those peonies started right here, today: against a backdrop of an emerging yellow iris, and the somewhat less common yellow false indigo. (I know you've heard me sing its praises of this combination in previous years! There is a reason why older people have a reputation for repeating their stories!)

Pink irises...

Lupines in the peach tree meadow...

And yes, the earliest day lilies have begun to bloom. I have this theory: if the lilies start flowering here in May, then all is right with the world. I know, I know -- all is not right with the world. Working theory, disproved. Sigh...

Snowdrop comes here after school. Yes she is agreeable, yes I can take a photo. Can it be by some favorite flowers? She prefers up in the tree. Same tree, same limb, same shot that you have seen here so many times before. The girl grows up, but some habits stick around for a very long time.

And some of her younger childhood games make a later come back. She coaxes Ed into babysitting "her children..."

... while she conducts a (pretend) picnic for a select few. Dolls have been absent from her life for several years now, but for some reason, this spring they have reappeared in her stories.

Tomorrow, little Juniper starts "school" in Chicago, and Snowdrop and Sparrow end their school year in Wisconsin. Though technically school continues until the end of the week for them, they're handing their house over to a cat/house sitter and are taking off for a brief vacation. Me? Oh, I'm tagging along, though not in lockstep with them. But when have you known me to pre-announce a trip! More on our adventures will follow as the week unfolds.

For now, Ed and I open up our windows, we watch the swallows chase bugs high in the air and listen to their compadres tweet their songs late into the evening. A beautiful day to end the spring month of May.

Madison Monday

Ed is up at 6, shoveling dirt for the extended meadow project. It's cooler then. 

I'm up just a little later, taking stock, feeding animals. I notice that we are in that period of quiet flowers. It always comes right about Memorial Day -- a time of beauty in the flower fields that's a little bit hidden. Not obvious. And it's not easy to photograph well. The false indigo, the nicotine -- delicate flowers on long stalks. Or the emerging white iris. Photographing truly white flowers on a sunny day? Well, it'll test your strength with the camera, or at least with the tools of photo editing.

Breakfast, on the porch. On the early side.

And then I am off to spend a final day with my daughters, their husbands and the kids.

The plan is to go downtown, start at the Capitol Square, and walk down State Street -- our mile long street that links (intentionally) the Capitol with the University campus -- all the way to the Memorial Union (an iconic campus meeting place by the lake) and then, after lunch, to hike back to the the Capitol Square. 

It's an ambitious idea, especially with two kids that are four-ish (the babes at least will be in strollers), but it is additionally challenging because of the weather: it has now decided to be very hot, so you're going to be thirsty, and they're going to be thirsty and we will need bathroom searches and shady moments.

Nevertheless, we do it and it is wonderful. 

Energetic!

Comfy

Reminds me of: going on a bear hunt...

Kids love the iconic Terrace chairs and especially this large one, which lends itself to these kinds of photos.

Lovely docks extending onto Lake Mendota. But hot today!

Climbing the Bucky mascot.

Sandpiper is getting to be such a strong walker! But never holding both hands. Ever.

This is where it gets interesting. We're sitting around a bunch of tables. 

We're taking brat orders. Who wants what. I want to take a photo of our brat lunch. A guard comes up to me and says -- no professional grade photos on the Union Terrace allowed without a permit. Do you have a permit?

I protest. I'm taking photos of my family and you're telling me I need a permit? I am NOT a professional.

You are using a professional camera.

Am not!

Are too! 

How do you get a permit?

Go online, fill out forms, wait for an answer.

You're joking, right? I am a Lifetime Union member and I can't take pictures of my family on the Union Terrace without a permit?

You can use your phone. Or a non-professional camera. That, to me, is a professional camera.

I would have continued this conversation (it is NOT a professional camera by a long shot), but my daughters are not fans of me challenging stupid rules in public, so I put away my camera (which actually doesn't fit in my purse, but that's because I do not have one of those oversize bags women seem to love). But if someone can explain this rule to me, please send me a note. It just makes no sense at all. 

In the meantime, here we go -- an iPhone selfie!

And another iPhone special!

The walk back up to the Square.

And now one more must do for this weekend: get a photo of the five cousins together! True, Juniper is due for a feeding and everyone is on the tired side things, but they cooperate. And I am grateful.

       

Oh, I suppose I could have fussed and adjusted this or that, but I love the implied movement within, the sibs trying to keep the little ones focused and still, even as we seem to have kicked up flocks of young mosquitoes from the Capitol  lawns. 

Oh kids, all five plus four of you, how I love you!

Thank you for being so so sweet to me, to each other, to all who cross your path.

the reason we all picked this weekend...

Once the weather turns delightfully warm, it's tempting to come up to Wisconsin from Chicago for a weekend of family time, outside time, visit the old haunts time. So it's not surprising to see the younger family here, especially since the longer weekend means no one has to rush home on Sunday. But there is a particular reason to be together in this moment: Sandpiper just passed his first birthday and Sparrow is about to mark his fourth. The weekend is perfectly sandwiched to celebrate the two of them. En famille!  

My farmette time is very short. Ed and I do a morning walk together, because he wants to help me extend the meadow (where I seed some wildflowers) in the new orchard and we plan out the space for it between the young fruit trees. The chickens help.

Sorry, Dance helps too.

Then I make a quick dash to the bakery to pick up two birthday cakes and I squeeze in a late breakfast on the porch with Ed (it's such a beautiful morning for it!)

And then I'm over at my daughter's house for a day filled with wonderful, joyous family time.

(Precious moments with visiting Juniper: if she is surprised at how much energetic play all these cousins can engage in, she doesn't show it!)

Lots of family time.

Lots.

(Family Portrait!)

Grandparents (not us!) provide lunch, kids play (hugs are common)...

And finally, the boys open presents. With help. (Additional help needed from the several of us especially talented at putting things together.)

(Ed truly can fix pretty much anything. Holding a baby? Fifth one now passing through his lap and it still remains a challenge.)

We eat pizza, then, important moment coming up -- there are the two cakes...

(someone needs a little help blowing out a candle)

... And we squeeze in some group pictures (thank you, Ed!)...

Though we have to laugh at how there is never the perfect moment to take that shot of the five grandkids together because the two young babes are not always in sync with their naps and hunger spells and the three older ones have patience galore, but not bottomless patience (sort of like us grownups), but we manage some pics and we put off others and it's altogether great fun just to even try!

I'll leave you with a photo of mom and her three kids -- two of the boys from today's celebrations and their older sister. (Oh! Is that cake frosting in your hair, Sandpiper? It is! No surprise there: cake frosting always makes it into the hair on your first birthday party!)

I ask you, how can you not love a day like this?