Sunday

I am tempted to try out the furnace this morning. It is cold in the farmhouse! Not objectively cold (we're in the low 60sF, which is around 17C), but to a person who just went through a very warm summer, whose blood is used to coping with a strong sun, this feels like the depth of winter! (Fine, I exaggerate. But still...)

Once again, my morning walk is brief.

(Chickens come running: where have you been?? We're hungry! )

(late summer purple)

(one more...)

(and another!)

(Peaches, ripening all at once)

Once again I bake us a breakfast treat. Blueberry muffins this time.

And once again I stay sequestered in the house, finishing projects, and eventually preparing dinner for the young family. Shrimp and scallops over pasta -- one of the three dishes that I tend to rotate here on Sundays to keep everyone happy.

They are all here tonight, along with my daughter's friend from California. 

And here's a consequence of our weird weather: we eat inside. Labor Day weekend and we're eating inside because of the cold! 

Well, no matter. The spirits are high, the kids are bouncy. All is fine with our little world here in the cool depths of south central Wisconsin. 

Tomorrow, I fly out again. To another place that, unexpectedly, is going to get the same cold dip in the temperatures that we are experiencing right now. Ah well. I'll pack extra sweaters.

Saturday

We have rain today. It's to be expected. Rain is good, rain waters my flower beds and stimulates root expansion.

Rain also stimulates weed growth, explodes bug populations and keeps me inside on a day where for once I have time to make progress in cleaning up the flower fields.

So maybe that is a good thing! I do not have to work today! Well, after I've done my morning chores.

(What's blooming? A lily or two, some phlox stragglers, a few liatris stalks, emergent asters, and of course the annuals in the pots.)

(the four Bresse girls and a cat)

Turning my attention to indoors activities -- well, I can start off with baking a rhubarb cake. We still have abundant pink stalks growing out there. So I bake and we have, therefore, a very lovely breakfast. Indoors. Because it's raining and more importantly, I'm feeling a tad cold out there. I'm not used to feeling cold. I wear my hoodie all morning long.

In the middle of the day I take a nap. It is so heavenly, that I spend the late hours repeating to Ed that I feel a depth of luxury and happiness over and beyond what I usually feel. He takes naps all the time and so he merely smiles knowingly.

I'd like to tell you that from hereon, things get exciting. However, that could not be further from the truth. Instead, I work on understanding some technology. Yawn... But, I feel that you can't fall behind with this stuff. If you don't know how to pay a subway fare with your watch, you're doomed to be one of those seniors who then can't navigate the ever changing communications landscape. And Ed's no help. He doesn't own a smart watch, he owns a 1980s Timex watch that he got in Kmart for probably less than $10 fifty years ago. I'm on my own. Between my watch, my camera, my computer and my phone, I have more device-related unknown to me features than there are stars in the sky. When I have a free couple of hours, I dive into expanding what little I understand about them.

Exhausting work! But, at least I know how to pay for city transportation with my smart watch. Tomorrow, I'm back to weed pulling. What a relief.

With love...

Friday

It's funny to have an end to the first week of school just one day after it begins. Or maybe it's good for students to get a soft reentry. The change from a light summer schedule with plenty of downtime to a full blown school schedule is huge. I'm sweating just at the thought of it!

Ed and I have frequent discussions about the role that school plays in a child's life. He wasn't a fan of institutional learning as a kid growing up in New York. Too many hours being bored, too early a start to the day. At the same time, he'll be the first to push for an educated populace. Perhaps one that doesn't have to show up at the schoolhouse gates in the wee hours of the morning.

As for those wee hours -- ones when he sleeps and I work outside -- I'm finally back to my normal schedule. European time zones seem of another world.

So, to work: good morning, farmette lands! Oh dear. All those weeds... I pull some. Actually many bucketfuls. Still, all those weeds remain...

(Oh, but those wonderful autumn colors! Dusty green, gold and purple..)

(And fluttering butterflies!)

Never mind -- I haven't the time for much weeding. 

(Breakfast, with Ed's flower choice...)

I'm in between several summer events: call it the Summer of Visits and Trips. My Polish architect friend and her family came and left. Check. Snowdrop and I went and came back. Check. Next week, a whole bunch of Polish friends are arriving, though not yet here, in Madison. I'm going to meet them elsewhere. And then again elsewhere. No checks there yet. And then my daughter has a trip and I have another. Are you dizzy yet???

With all that still before me, the weeds occupy just a tiny corner of my headspace. 

I try to plan, to navigate, to imagine the next month or two. And all this keeps me indoors until it's time to pick up Snowdrop.

At least, this is what she and I think -- that I am to pick up today. It's not my regularly scheduled day, just a filler to make up for all those days next week when I cannot be there for her.

As always, she comes out beaming.

And full of recounts of the horrible things a friend, or at least a girl now in the shadows of friendship, said to her about war and about meanness. Skipping over the war tales, which simply showed that a second grader living in Madison Wisconsin is going to know little about war (unless she has a grandma born in postwar Poland, or someone in her household touched by the drama in the Ukraine), we concentrated on the meanness issue. It's a suppositious question I would think -- is it sometimes okay to be mean. I wonder how you would answer a young child on this one! 

Snowdrop is well schooled by her mom on what to do when someone is mean to you. She tells me right away about your options on how to respond and when to ask for help. Being mean back is not on the chart as an option. She asks me now if I agree and I quickly tell her that I do. Very much so. We don't have to revert to Godwin's law on this one (you know, the rule that if you argue long enough, every discussion will  compare someone else to Hitler). Sure, it's okay to be mean to Hitler. But, in life, we don't really come face to face with Hitler types. With your run of the mill meanies -- you stay with your principles.

She is relieved.

And contemplates life from her perch on the tree...

And rejoices at the beauty of life in her favorite romp in a field of creeping Charlie.

This is when I get a frantic call from her mom: do you know where Snowdrop is? They say at school someone else picked her up!

In the evening, when the little one is home again,  Ed proposes a kayak trip, but I tell him I need a break from these super late outings with super late dinners and super late Ocean posts (how many times have my eyes closed as I typed up an entry? Too many). He suggests an alternative -- tennis.

Oh, tennis! We haven't gone to the courts for several years now! Somehow Covid messed with this for us, though I can't imagine why, since an outdoor activity seems like a fine way to cope with the limitations imposed on us these past years.

It feels so good to be chasing a ball on a cracked court surrounded by tall white pines! We are alive! We gratefully accept the gifts those pines offer us (oh, the scent of pine needles!)!

And then we go home and order pizza. Delivered to our door. Magic! We are tired and therefore so grateful!

With love...

September 1st

Unless you live in France, or perhaps in some other country with a centralized school calendar, you don't necessarily start school on the first day of September. But for me, this date will always trigger thoughts of school beginnings. In my childhood, Polish schools always started on September 1st.

And it so happens that Madison public schools are also starting the new school year on this day. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately from his point of view) Sparrow (who is not yet attending his neighborhood public school) does not return to school until next week and so my "first school morning" visit and obligatory school child's photo is only of Snowdrop. Sparrow is happy to wish her luck and return to his magna tiles play.

Of course, to get to Snowdrop's house before she leaves for school, I have to get up super early. School or no school, I still have to feed the animals and check in on the plant life here. But this is actually a treat, because these early September mornings are so beautiful! I linger in the flower fields, I walk over to the meadow to pick flowers for the table.

By 7:15 though, I am at Snowdrop's house. 

As every year, the girl questions the necessity of wearing something new and special on this day. But unlike previous years, she shrugs off the inconvenience and discomfort of putting on anything other than shorts and a t-shirt and merely mutters -- I can't wait for the second day of school!

Oh, how this girl has grown and matured!

So long as I am there, I offer to drop the girl off so that the parents can focus on the prework chores at home. Watching the kids walk into the school building is thrilling for me! How long has it been since we've had an almost normal beginning to a school year?

I come back to my daughter's house for a quick visit with rainbow boy...

... and then I stop by a bakery for breakfast treats. Ed and I have a lovely morning meal on the porch.

You probably have not noticed the various melon slices we've been eating here, at the farmette. They're superb, possibly because they come off our own melon vines. The melon plants have been generously producing honeydew and cantaloup monsters for a while now. And today we cut off our first delicious watermelon. Yep, we are swimming in melons.

I do take a break from chores and do a Zoom call with my Florida pal -- she's the one gives me endless confidence as I tackle especially busy weeks. Do you have a person who does this for you? Who assures you it's okay to find shortcuts and to not plunge into everything that is before you? People who do that for you, who slow you down and reassure you that you can take a moment for yourself, are worth millions. Thank you, Diane.

In the afternoon, I am there in a car line, waiting to pick up Snowdrop. And, in happy moods, we come back to the farmhouse. "I had a great day in school! We did no work!" -- was her theme. Everything had a positive ring to it. "I even liked my dress, gaga!"

(A new book had arrived...)

Evening. I had charged Ed with getting flowers at our local market. Me, I pick up our CSA veggies. And then, instead of cooking dinner and going to sleep (sooo tired!), we take the kayaks over to Lake Monona. And immediately to our left, we pick up Wingra Creek.

He takes the lead...

(Hard to believe we are in Madison's center...)

Then I take the lead...

And we come back to our starting point, only now the sun has set...

We return to the farmhouse. I fix us a fish dinner (with plenty of corn) and I have to laugh when I look at my watch toward the end of it: it's 9:30. Just like in Italy! 

Buena notte!

With love...

the day after the return

If ever there is a day that deserves no comment, not story, no photos at all, it's the day after you've come from a beautiful trip. Every chore you do at home on that day feels dull, every step you take is on too familiar a landscape.

At the same time, it feels so wonderful to be home. I don't stress much over travel, except when I am with a child or grandchild. When I come home, the relief from not having had some cataclysmic travel event is huge (here are some personal favorite cataclysmic events from my travel days: a twelve hour flight delay, nonstop rainfall in the mountains with perhaps lightening for emphasis, lost passports, lost suitcases, lost favorite toy of child, stomach bugs, fevers without explanation -- what? You want me to stop? Well fine, but you get the idea!)

At home, I unpack the unused umbrella, the unopened children's Tylenol, the ignored Covid tests, the mostly unnecessary bandaids, the huge quantities of extra masks (because if you get Covid, even after your isolation, you need lots of fresh masks), and I think -- phew! We were lucky.

Not much to wash, sort, and put away today. I did not pack a lot of clothes. We stuck to our small carry-ons and Snowdrop was impressed or at least amused at my daily rinsing and washing. (Swimming requires a midday change of clothing, but hey, it's summer and t-shirts dry very fast.) She'd never seen anyone do hand washing before. 

After a trip to Europe I always wake up super early for a good handful of days. As I turn to the chores waiting for me outside, I think -- hey, the farmette lands look pretty good still. Especially in the very early morning light.

(the second peach tree: still not fully ripe...)

And I have some pleasant surprises! The last day of August gives me the gift of a lily or two or three still.

(Not a lily, but it is the monarch's favorite!)

The rest of the flowers are really in their fall mode already but that's okay. I like them in this stage as well.

I have appointments, I have a UPS errands, I have glasses adjustments -- this kind of nonsense is typically spread out over weeks and weeks, but I have just a wee window between trips and various activities so I pack it into this day and really, that's just fine. Get it done, move on.

In the afternoon, Ed and I ride over to Stoneman's for the corn. He'd been eating multiple ears a day in my absence (why cook dinner when you have corn...) and now I'm returning to this grand August eating habit. Well, for a few days anyway. With Labor Day we wind down the corn season. Sad but true.

And in the late afternoon, I have two treats: first of all, I go over to the young family's house. 

(Hi, Sparrow!)

(Hey there, Snowdrop!)

(Sandpiper isn't still enough for a photo.)

I was asked to tag along with Snowdrop and her mom to visit her new classroom. They really shuffled the kids around this time and she has none of her best buds in her new room, but Snowdrop is ever the social optimist and she seems not too concerned about this, nor about the fact that there seem to be two boys for every girl (the whole grade is intensely boy heavy). She is excited about what's ahead and that's such a good thing!

I have to say, the amount of work this teacher put into arranging the room for the kids is impressive. Snowdrop is one lucky kid to have someone so dedicated to the job of schooling these second graders.

And finally, toward evening, there's a second treat: Ed and I drag out the kayaks to our nearby lake. Initially I hesitated. Honestly, you can't get excited about paddling in a somewhat soupy lake after dipping oars in a clean body of Alpine water. But, I want the movement. Ed wants the movement. So we paddle. And it's a beautiful evening for it!

Dipping oars into the quiet lake at dusk creates a perfect mood for reflection. I think about traveling with my grandkids. And I think about something that a number of people have asked me -- how is it that I take Snowdrop and not the others on these trips? Will I create equally  splendid trips for the remaining four?

I think about how it's mostly a younger person who would ask that. How people my age know the answer to this question plain and clear, the answer being I don't know. 

For me, to travel alone with a grandchild, five conditions have to be met:

1. I have to be still young and healthy enough to not worry about needing medical care. 

2. I have to be still young and healthy enough to manage the demands of a child.

3. The child has to be independent enough to allow me some down time.

4. The child has to want such a trip very much and not be afraid of missing mommy and daddy

5. The child has to be old enough to manage a travel crisis.

Over time, the kids get older and you'd think, therefore, that it should all eventually work out for us all. The problem is that I, too get older. Hitting seventy next year. And with the added uncertainty of Covid, I was just barely satisfied that the first condition was being met this year. For a while, I toyed with traveling with some random additional person just in case. I did extra boosters and extra check ups on all preexisting conditions, and still I really hesitated. My doc finally convinced me we'd be okay. And we were. And still, I worried.

So, is this fair to the others? 

I think back to Tiziano's words -- my grandma had my father when she was sixteen, my father had me when he was 21. Kids these days are born to older grandparents. Is this fair? I honestly think that that is the wrong question to ask. You make decisions as best as you can. Questioning generational choices (me theirs, they mine) is not going to get you anywhere. Being a parent or a grandparent is tough business. You do the best you can. Most people indeed do the very best they can.

And at home, Ed and I eat corn and cheeper eggs for supper because I am not yet focused on cooking much of anything. That will come, but not today.

I toy with the idea of making a Negroni, but if there is one thing I learned, it's that you cannot recreate Italy (or France or Maine or Morocco) in your own home once you return. So I make a conventional aperitif spritz instead!  I mean, come on, it's still August! 

With cheers, and love...