markers

Seasonal changes are marked by firsts and lasts. This week is packed full of both.

First calendar day of fall, coming up! (That's an obvious one.)

Last day of wearing shorts -- my go-to outfit all summer long -- is today. (Ed will continue at least until Thanksgiving, or later.)

Is it the last day of breakfast on the porch? It may well be that. With cooler days come cooler mornings. The meditative moment is totally lost on you if you're shivering. Such gratitude I have for a season of porch breakfasts with Ed...

It's probably not the last day of brilliant warm sunshine -- we get our share of fall warmth here and there. Still, it really feels like today is a parting hand wave toward summer. 

Where is the color outside? Right now it's in the tubs, where the annuals will keep on going...

... until the first day of frost. When does that come? This is as speculative as the last day of a spring deep freeze (in May). A killing frost could hit us in early October. Or not. In any case, decisions will have to be made soon: should I overwinter a couple of plants in the farmhouse? It's never a total success. There is not enough sunlight and the plants get spindly and unattractive. But they survive, so that if you can put up with their winter awfulness, you'll get rewarded with an instant rebound come next spring. But which ones should come inside?? To be determined.

There is still the matter of light to think about. If the brightest days of the year are behind us, do we switch to our own hygge practices to cheer up our darkened interiors? Ed doesn't like a lot of light in the house. Predictably, I'm the opposite. I use candles and those are my friends from early fall until spring. This year, I'm considering investing in a lamp that treats seasonal affective disorders. I dont really have a seasonal affective disorder, but I do miss longer days of bright light and the science seems to support the use of these lamps in places like Wisconsin, where the days are way too short for anyone's liking (well, except for Ed, who just doesn't care). But this isn't today's project. Right now, we are reveling in the warmth of this last summer-ish day. A beautiful and fragrant end of a season day.

(a walk in our local park)

In the afternoon  I pick up Snowdrop at school. 

We are in a new fall routine where I get her to the farmhouse, I feed her, and pretty quickly have her get ready for her ballet class (she is back with her Storybook Ballet School -- interrupted for two years because of Covid). 

In the world of dance and especially ballet, the attire rules grow stricter as you move up the class rungs. Oh how well I know this from when my younger daughter danced! For Snowdrop this is a new world of no more frilly tutus or pony tails. It's all about uniform leotards and buns and yes, I get it -- there is value in conforming to this regimen. But it does mean that we have to get started on the task of getting ready earlier... 

... making sure, too, that she arrives in class on time. That as well is a biggie: lateness is frowned upon. 

Attending dance is surely a marker of a receding pandemic, no? One can hope.  

And of course, the evening comes quickly. 

I take out my candle (tomato for today!) and heat up a homemade veggie soup. Markers of the next season. Anticipated, enjoyed.

End of The Reunion

Good morning, world!

(this one is for my friend Regan, who loves Gauras as much as I do!)

And it is a good morning. A beautiful morning in south-central Wisconsin! 

(Tuxie, in the barn, taking in the sun...)

First order of business: check in with my docs at the clinic. Lovely people, all of them, though I have to smile at the tennis game that we are playing here: it was a bacterial explosion! No, it was a viral menace! Maybe even Covid! Though maybe not! Well, I'm okay with any of these, because so long as the ball stays within the court and doesn't land in some stratosphere of scary places, it doesn't really matter to me whether it's on this side of the line or the other. I'm well at the moment and that week of feeling ill is getting to be but a memory. 

Next, I meet up with the Polish group downtown. Gosia, Piotr, Inga, Jacek. There, on the last day of their American visit, I decided to put names to the faces that you will have seen here the last day or two and then before. We are old enough now that total anonymity wanes in importance. What matters more to me is that I love my friends, I grew up with them, and more were added and they deserve something other than a pronoun in an Ocean post. (One of them did say that visiting the farmette was like stepping into a movie set -- so much of my days here have been played out over the years in Ocean writings, that it's all so familiar, even as none of these friends have ever been to Wisconsin, let alone to the farmette.)

We start off by doing "lite shopping" at Little Luxuries. This small, esoteric gift shop on State Street had been my go-to shopping place for when I needed wee gifts for important to me people for a very long time, but I haven't been there in years! It was sentimentally sweet to be with Polish friends there today.

From there, it's a hop skip to the Capitol. 

(we wait for the other shoppers to catch up with us... my friend is enamored with all the flowers that grow in our city center...)

Here they are -- the traveling foursome, together.

They'd poked around inside the Capitol on their own. Our goal today is to do something else -- have breakfast. For this we go to Marigold Kitchen...

My head has been swimming with ideas on what "typical American" food I want to introduce to these people. How about blueberry pancakes with maple syrup? A hit!

It really is time for them to drive off to O'Hare. Their return flight to Poland leaves in just a handful of hours. But we make one more stop and because of the weather, the flowers, the occasion, the significance of it all, it is a beautiful stop -- at Frank Lloyd Wright's Monona Terrace.

("the girls")

You can't help but be reflective.

("I met you in your Warsaw apartment on Aleja Roz, more than fifty years ago...")

The span of years, the decisions made, the wide gully between their lives over there and mine over here... and yet, despite everything, we remain friends. This is the stable element through it all, against all odds, despite our profound differences in lives lived, paths followed.

And then after many many hugs, they turn toward their return trip and I turn toward the farmhouse. And I think how at the end of trips, visits, events, after incredibly packed and beautiful days you return home and you either feel a let down or you feel quite the opposite -- uplifted by the memories, and for me it's always the latter, perhaps because I love my memories, but I also love, love, love my home.

Hi Ed...

Afternoon? It's with Snowdrop who is out of school today because there's some reason why schools are closed and so she comes here and now we are back in our life of routine and that's just fine too!

(Loves to pluck fruit from the trees; right now we're flushing out decent apples and okay pears...)

(She was curious today about how much rubies cost... I have no idea what brought that on. Ed took it upon himself to teach her how precious stones are priced. Basic math quickly convinced her that her allowance would not permit for a purchase of anything that even looked like a ruby. Ah well. Kids switch focus with lightening speed. Rubies are so yesterday!)

Evening: I hear my friends got on their plane without fuss or issue. They're halfway across the Atlantic already. 

The moon shines brightly over the farmette lands today. I hope it shines brightly over you as well, wherever you are.

With so much love...

Sunday

You could say that the day is a culmination of everyone and everything, of a summer of swings and swirls, of interesting possibilities and incredible rewards. And that probably doesn't fully describe it all.

(Venerable farmhouse and the Big Bed...)

(Some lilies are so-called repeat bloomers, but here up north, that second bloom is modest. Still, you love every secondary bloom, because, well, it's September!)

(Breakfast greetings from the farmette!)

The plan is for me to meet up with everyone. The two young families, and with the Polish gang if the timing is right, all together at the Union Terrace.

At first I'm with just the kids and their parents.

But just as the Chicago young family was getting ready to head back home...

Just as we managed to sit the cousins down for one last photo...

... the Polish group arrived. And we had a chance to meet. All together... (well, a few of the men are parking cars, or getting cars, or taking photos!)

Still, the timing is right. We had that lovely moment together. 

And now the young families leave and the Polish group remains.

Since my pals are here only for 24 hours, I decided that we should calm down the sightseeing and concentrate on something else -- take in a whiff of Wisconsin as I know it from this wee corner of the state. It's all well and good to climb to the top of skyscrapers and to visit the musts of San Francisco. But if you step out of that tailspin and look around you, there's a bit of interesting America right here, on the Wisconsin campus...

 ... and on farmette lands. 

And so after the Union, and the campus, and after they check into their hotel, we come out to where I live.

Ultimately, we settle into an evening around the kitchen table...

And a wonderful dinner on the porch, with the song of crickets adding music to our evening. 

And it is all so grand...

Ed tells me I laughed a lot tonight. Yes, that would be right. We were feeling celebratory. And grateful for all these years of friendship.

With so much love...

Saturday

Talk about day that is not what it was supposed to be! 

My Polish friends are now in Chicago and I was to join them there. We were going to "do the city" together, much as we "did" New York before I got myself sick and landed in the hospital.

I'm close to my old self again, but not enough to trust myself to be away from home. I'm still on medications and under observation, and though I think I'm done with the toxins and fevers and god knows what else, I'd rather not take the chance. Not just yet. 

And so I sent detailed instructions on what to do when and where and I am happy to see that they have the weather for it. Chicago is not hard to navigate. I trust them to have a fine old time. I'll see them on their final day of their grand American adventure when they travel here, to Madison. But for now, they are in Chicago and I am here.

(Door County peaches, market flowers)

And guess who else is here? Well, as it turned out that, since everything got flipped, my Chicago girl brought her family to Madison tonight. And so after a morning of tidying and straightening and getting stuff in order, I meet up with the two young families for dinner. I haven't seen the both of them all under one roof since May! (We go out for a taco dinner and it is wonderful! Extraordinarily wonderful.)

("me and the girls")

(she is on the move these days!)

It's all a fantastic treat for me.

Too, I've wanted there to be an occasion where my friends and my kids and grandkids can come together, even if only for a few brief moments. Looks like that can happen tomorrow. 

But tonight, I just want to smile at how quickly the week flipped, from somewhere near some bottom, to this:  

After dinner, we retreat to my daughter's home where it's just so good to talk around the table, while the kids play...

(Sandpiper: a rare serious moment...)

(Primrose: same for her...)

(the big kids: on stage...)

And of course, the two that started it all for me...

There's a light rain as I drive home. Refreshing. Purifying. Deeply delicious. Or maybe it's that everything is feeling deeply delicious right now.

With so much love...