adventurous spirits

I'm wondering if we should finally name the four Bresse hens that we added to the brood of cheepers. Typically I hand over that task to the kids and we have had some very inspired animal names as a result. The first stray matriarch cat was called Stop Sign. (The name grows on you, really it does!) Her daughter has the name of Dance. All good. And it's not as if Ed and I have been stellar name givers: Out of the six cats living here, Dance and Tuxie were named by others, but the rest were our choices. Two nearly identical dark Tabbys we've called Friendly One and Friendly Two, even though only one of them is super friendly (to the point of being obsequious -- a name I have added to him). The other two lighter Tabbys? Unfriendly One and Unfriendly Two, because they were the more skittish of the lot. But Unfriendly One (a girl) is actually very friendly these days, so the name is completely wrong. Still, be careful what you call your pets and kids and significant others, because names and nicknames stick!

With respect to the Bresse hens -- well, a couple of people pointed out that naming an animal you're going to eat seems wrong. You're confusing pets and food. Okay, fine. We did not name them.

But as time passes, the idea that we will butcher these hens is getting to be more remote. They are indeed easy to care for and they may supplement our egg collection. Peach, our oldest hen has pretty much aged out of egg laying and we expect that Henny will also stop soon. Shouldn't we just keep these four for their eggs?

Before we brought them home, I tossed around these names -- Lazy Daisy, Dizzy Lizzy, Grumpy Greta and Creamy Mimi. But that was before I recognized personalities. Now I'm thinking I should stick with Lazy Daisy, but switch the others to Bold Beatrice (which Ed will never remember), Little Lotta (which is very hard to say!), and Middle Maddie (because there is one that just does not stand out!). Only Bold Beatrice and Little Lotta are distinguishable from the pack. Lazy Daisy and Middle Maddie? What can I say... Twins.

I was thinking about chickens today because for the first time, one of the Bresse hens came out on the path and explored it all the way to the courtyard, where the big kids were hanging. Bold Beatrice is rather fearless.

She'll leave her sisters if she hears me coming and she hovers near me to see if I come with an offering of food. It was nice to see her adventurous spirit really start to kick in.

(The older cheepers still assert their chicken superiority on the Bresse girls, but not as often and not as forcefully. Thank goodness. Here's Uni, taking a lily stroll!)

The day is splendid weather wise and the plan was for me to meet up with the young family at our community pool. After I do my lily rounds of course. 

(It's always exciting to step out in the morning!)

[I can't say that I have a favorite day lily, but I will admit to liking some of the colors especially much. Take the South Seas variety: I love the way a peachy tone flows into a raspberry blush. You don't often think of orange as pairing well with pink, yet in this flower, it's a stunning blend. All this around a yellow throat. Simply sublime!]

Okay, walk with me to see what's blooming out there!

(the tree frog has found her home for the day; tomorrow she'll have to pick a different lily.)

(peek-a-boo!)

A breakfast pause.

But at the pool, I get a surprise: somehow I had failed to notice on the website that the community pool is closed today. We met up alright, all dressed for the pool only to have the gates shut in our face. A quick recalculation had us pick the closest open and wet alternative -- Fitchburg's Splash Pad. 

Of the three kids, Snowdrop has the best time getting soaked by all the fountains and sprinklers.

Sparrow is less thrilled by surprise bursts of water.

Sandpiper? His instincts say "go for it," but he does have slight reservations.

For all his bravado, when you take him to a place full of strangers, the little guy will actually reign in his desire to run far and grab anything in sight. Mommy's lap is a safe retreat.

(Snowdrop, on the other hand is off and running. Total water kid. Though of course, she is a whole lot older than Sandpiper. He may get there too! )

There is a playground next to the Splash area and the bigger two found some amusement there as well.

So no, we did not swim, but yes, we got wet anyway. And the sun was out and a puffy cloud would drift by and the world felt like such a calm and comforting place and yes, perceptions are everything!

In the evening I make a pot of veggie soup. I have to use up last year's tomatoes and corn and this year's onion, beans, carrots, scapes, cabbage, kale, and spinach.

We eat outside on this most perfect evening and we notice the quiet. And the stillness. 

The swallows have gone. They came, they nested, they grew little ones. And then, in one fell swoop, they all left. Where to? Believe it or not, they've likely started their migration south to South America. And yes, it feels empty without them. Like kids going off to college. One day here, next day picking up their lives elsewhere. But, like college kids, these swallows will be back. Next spring. We're counting the days!

Have a safe journey little guys. Thank you for bringing us so much joy.

With love...

Friday

I used to tell Ed that the NYTimes tracked my stories here on Ocean, because every once in a while, out of the blue, an Ocean theme would appear a day later in some life style section of the pager. Hey, that was my idea! Of course, one other way to look at it is to recognize that there are only so many topics of general interest or discussion in our lives and we just keep going around the same themes over and over again. We'd like to believe that we are original, clever even, but we're not. Everything has been lived before and certainly stated before. 

That sense of repetition and a parroting of an Ocean theme was with me today when I looked at the paper and saw a story on contentment. Wait, didn't I just write about that a couple of days back? Without question we strive for that purposeful contentment, choosing to search for it through our connection to the natural world and more broadly, to my kids, to our friends. Didn't I just say something to that effect? And now the paper gives us this article about the Secret of Aging Well. (In case you don't have time to read it, it is about that: striving for contentment despite roadblocks/impediments/life's issues as you grow older.)

And then I notice the date on the article and I see that it is a rerun from an earlier moment in time, and I think -- my god, we really do just go around the same circle over and over!

Still, as Ed and I sit yet again for an extra long time on the porch over breakfast, watching those darn swallows...

... I tell him -- I'm sure glad you deliberately choose to be the way you are. I think he was a bit puzzled with that one, but then, he's used to me saying things that are a little whacky and out of the blue.

Breakfast was once again super late, but this time I had a legitimate excuse: Wisconsin is now home to ripe blueberries! Ed picked some up at the farmers market yesterday from Aggie our blueberry farmer. And so I baked. A blueberry-thyme yogurt cake. This one:

Speaking of life's repetitions, drum roll! It's time for your July viewing of the day lilies.

In larger groups now. Because really, it's not just a single lily that has us gasp, it's that they look so good together!

Right?

(Okay, just one closeup!)

In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop at camp once again. It's her last day of "Nature and Art," and I can tell that she has been as happy with this one as she was with Robotics Camp and Cartoon Art Camp and Softball. Kids love summer programs with new friends -- that has to be the conclusion here.

Today she is especially tickled because in the course of the morning, her last front tooth finally came out. As a person who takes many grandchild photos, I have tried hard to work around the fact that her baby teeth remained in place even as her big teeth had already come in. The dentist said -- give it until the end of the summer. Finally, today, she is rid of them and her smile is sweet and especially grown-up!

In the evening, Ed and I eat leftovers, just because they are there. We take our salads and reheated pizzas outside, because it is so perfect on the porch right now. The swallows swoop down, then soar above the tree tops and as the setting sun hits the bellies, for a brief second they look like specs of gold against a darkening sky. Brilliant and graceful. And each year, more of them build nests here and each year. we get this humbling show of their perfect flight.

Thursday

And so comes a summer Thursday on the farmette. Inevitably, our big stories of the day revolve around such topics as which animal did what to whom, and how one piece of machinery is useful or broken or in need of some part, with ongoing speculations about whether there are more mosquitoes (oh horror!) or bees (oh yay!) than there were yesterday, and about the rains that are needed, or that dumped too much water on everything. In other words -- we are full of farm talk. Real farm talk by two people who actually know very little about farming. Ed doesn't hesitate to insert his standard line -- "I lived on 68th street in New York City, what do I know about this stuff?!" [This always makes me smile. Can you imagine -- I used to catch the Lexington Ave subway home from school, picking it up on 68th street, just past his apartment house, every single day of my last school year in New York. It's not impossible to think that I may have bumped into him more than once. I would have been 12 or 13, he would have been 15 or 16. Obviously, we made no impression on each other.]

This morning he goes out to feed the animals (for a change) and then tells me that I forgot to move the brick, thereby leaving the cheepers trapped in the coop instead of releasing them at dawn (we have an automatic release on the coop which usually works brilliantly so that we dont have to get up to set them free). Oops. 

Me, I do my lily love walk, snipping spent heads and pulling weeds and taking the occasional picture.

(from singles yesterday to triplets today)

Snapping a photo does make me feel like the life of a lily bloom (so short! just one day!) is forever on record. There is in each flower so much to love!

Then we catch Uni (one of the medium aged hens) and hose down her butt. What can I say -- it looked really dirty. And after that appetizing chore, we sit down to breakfast. Late. Close to noon. This is a new normal for us!

Afterwards, Ed returns to clearing the barn. Oh, the junk accumulated there over the years! Fencing, netting, boards, boxes. Rods, insulation, bins, wires. Junk, in my view. Ed comes out of the barn these days looking like a  ditch digger or a person who navigates dust storms for all his waking hours. Filthy by anyone's standards. And because he owns only two pairs of shorts, I've had to do mini washes every couple of days. All I need is a laundry line and I'll feel myself to be a real farm Frau! (He'll say -- leave it alone. I will roll my eyes. No way is that stuff coming into our living room.)

The next big task for him is to try out the new ancient tractor that he picked up on Craigslist. He has gotten it to work now and he is eager to see if it will actually till the land out back, in between all those trees we planted. At first he didn't want to bother planting anything else there, but these days he feels committed to finding a good use of that acre of space. If it's tillable, we'll plant something. Deciding what will be a topic of conversation for many a meal to come. 

For now, I keep my focus on the lilies. Snip, weed. Snip weed. With the occasional longer pause to admire what's there.

(the Big Bed is slowly filling in...)

And I am happy to give it all a pause in the afternoon. Farming, or pretend farming is great, so long as it doesn't eat up all your waking hours. Picking up Snowdrop at nature art camp offers me the break I need from dirt and bugs and weeds and spent flowers.

(At the farmhouse)

In the evening Ed and I feel we deserve a pizza. Or, that I deserve not to cook. Or that Ed deserves break from my cooking. (I'm hoping it's not that!) I still make a salad, because we are salad addicts and because we have way too many cucumbers, both from our patch and from the CSA.

I have grand plans for meals ahead, but our warm dish of the evening comes in square boxes and it's delivered and we think that this is the most luxurious thing ever!

Summer days are full of work and ideas and dirt and cool drinks. This is why we love them so much!

Wednesday

Oh, we are prone to indulge excessively, aren't we... No small scoop of ice cream! We want a double on a waffle cone, or better yet, a triple, with sprinkles and chocolate sauce and a cherry on top. No one lily for me -- I'll plant dozens, wherever there is room and come July, I'll take one photo after another, even though there is such a thing as "too many lilies!"

Well, my patient souls, this is July for you. Ocean is going to be full of lilies. My life is full of lilies!

All around me I see their gentle blush and I think -- that fading rose tone, blending into a tangerine orange and a lemon yellow -- that's just exquisite!

Or, how about orange marmalade spilling into scrambled eggs?

With the lilies come the tree frogs.

Of course, my life is not just stuck in a pool of lilies (though how good does that sound!). First of all, July gives us other splendid blooms.

(I never thought of sweet peas as perennials, until mine showed up again and again and ... yet again.)

And I do have other thoughts running through my head and we eat summer meals and have summer moments on the porch...

And there was the inspection of the tomato field -- the tomatoes are splendid this year!

But there is no question about it: lilies are in almost all my July days and so, too, they will be in almost all your July days, Ocean readers! (I say "almost" because I will be away for a handful of them.) And that's not a bad thing. Remember, by February, we will all be starved for the beauty of a lily. Even just one lily. Perhaps this lily:

[I should say that I actually had a fuller day than it may appear here. For example, I picked up Snowdrop at Aldo Leopold Nature Center where she had the next in a series of summer day camps. This one focused on nature and art -- how fantastic is that! 

(pausing by the prairie flowers...)

Afterwards, she came to the farmette with me for her usuals. And then I drove her to her next activity: softball, on the Blue Jays team.

Her brothers are there to watch. And to get in their own practice runs.

I leave them all playing or watching or practicing softball. I head back to the farmette, and this time I do not speed home like crazy to avoid horrible storms. That was yesterday's adventure!]

In the evening, Ed bikes, I hum to myself -- luli luli lily! (That would be a goodnight lullaby in the Ukraine, with a lily twist.)

With love...