Monday: here and there

I'm at my daughter's house -- up at 5:45. The kids are up when their alarm goes off -- 6:45. I did all advance stuff in advance. Backpacks and lunches -- ready except for the perishables. Clothes for kids -- laid out the night before, approved by all, so there should be no fuss. Cats attended to, dishwasher emptied, breakfast decided the night before. Every kid is cooperative this morning. Come down, eat, go up. They always have morning baths and I give lightening speed baths. In, scrub, rinse, out. Snowdrop gets dressed and ready without a moment's delay. And still, I drive up to the school three minutes after the bell has rung at 7:40. Meaning, it is not possible to get those two fed, bathed, dressed and into the car by one person and in that amount of time. 

Now that I know this, I can plan tomorrow differently. Baths will get pushed up to the evening. Sandpiper will be home today, so I will need more time for him. He takes stuff out -- you have to be watchful for that. But we will manage! Now that I realize that it's not really doable with two, I feel confident that it's even less doable with three! I will figure out improvements to the routines! The goal? 7:40, in school tomorrow, with no one upset, no one hungry. Easy peasy, right?

In the meantime, I have just a few pics from this morning.

"We're ready!"

After dropping Snowdrop off (7:43... sigh...), I go on to Sparrow's school. He's there in plenty of time having a more relaxed drop off window. Bye little guy! I'll pick up you and your brother this afternoon!

And then I turn toward the farmhouse, where I go the barn to feed the animals...

And have breakfast with Ed, reviewing with him such light topics as the elections in Brazil and the weird and devastating war in the Ukraine.

And then I sit down and I swear I do not want to move at all, ever.

That lasts a minute. A warm shower and a second steamy milky cup of coffee put me back into circulation mode. A good thing too, because I have dinner foods to (partly) prepare and (in the early afternoon) Snowdrop to claim at school.

(the secret path is a bit overgrown; it requires a nimble step!)

(salvia love)

(one of the "travel with snowdrop" books arrived)

And a couple of hours later, I have the two boys to claim at their school.

(rushing to reclaim their younger brother)

And now we are at their home again. I fix dinner, keeping an eye on the one who cannot be left alone, not even for a minute. He's perfectly capable of turning on the oven, or finding the one choke hazard that we may have neglected to clear away. And he has a legendary talent for opening anything at all and finding the one dangerous object inside.

Dinner. Shrimp tacos and corn. All very popular with the youngest one and acceptable to the older two. So long as cheese can be added!

I am determined to get the to bed earlier today. Maybe. Maybe not. You know how that works...

And now the house is quiet. Two days -- check! Two to go. Kids still whole, no emergencies, no broken bones. So far so good!

with so much love...

Sunday: away, sort of

My older daughter asked for a favor: would I stay with the kids so that she and her husband could escape for a four day trip? To celebrate their tenth? 

I paused on that one. In a sense it's an easy peasy job. The three kids are reasonably independent. I see them so often that my coming into their home is not strange, certainly not for the older two. But Sandpiper is a super active little guy and, too, there is the issue of school: getting them ready, getting the cats fed, breakfasts served, lunches packed and in the car by 7:30... is that even doable? For just me to manage? 

Still, in the end I agreed. I mean, what could possibly go wrong, no?

The goal is for me to work in the farmette yard this morning, then to hustle over to my daughter's house around lunchtime. I'll stay there tonight and do the morning/evening run tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. Sandpiper will be visiting his former nanny initially, but I'll have him with us the remaining three days.

Complicated? Sure, but in a good way. I hope!

So, quickly: morning on the farmette. It's still buggy. I mean, beastly so. Still, I plunge into work on the weeds and eventually Ed comes out to help me move some more hostas. Brutal job! But the views onto the gardens are sweet. Look up, and you have to smile.

Breakfast. This one is a bit on the fast side. Ed sold the sandbox on Craigslist and the buyers are coming over to load the sand away. Me, I have to bake muffins and cook up a chicken dinner. All before noon.

And now I am off to my girl's house. Roll out the comfy sheets on the big bed! You've got a visitor for a few days!

You guys need to get going or you'll miss your flight!

And they're off. Ad it so happens that Snowdrop has a play date at a friend's house, so for a few hours, it's just me and this guy!

Sparrow normally loves to play on his own, but the suddenly very empty house makes him just that much more my shadow. It's been a while since he and I have hung out together!  We have some catching up to do!

Dinner? The three of us. Ed's home tending to the animals. 

(Parmesan cheese figures heavily in their dinners, at the farmhouse and at home)

And Snowdrop -- she comes back home from a street fair, face painted, spirits high. One minute later, she is out playing with the neighborhood kids. And thirty minutes after that -- she stumbles in face smudged, with the biggest bump on a cheekbone I'd ever seen. She and her friend "ran into each other by accident." Snowdrop's cheek is pretty sore. I can only hope that the friend is not even more bruised! 

(Face wiped, somewhat, cheek iced, things are looking better!)

And very quickly the day ends in the usual coaxing of kids to get to bed. Let's see if the morning rush to school goes smoothly tomorrow! What can happen in the morning, right? Right??

With so much love...

October

You never know what to make of September. It's often warm, but not always. Sunny, unless it's endlessly wet. The gardens fade, but only to a point. Tree leaves look autumnal, but they're still without the colors of fall.

But October! It has all the markings and shades of this gorgeous season. The air is always crisp around the edges, the nights swing into a frosty range. 

Welcome, October! We are off to such a pretty start!

(Yes, it is possible for a lily to bloom in October, even in Wisconsin. But it's a rare treat.)

(A garden remains colorful until that frost knocks out the annuals. There has been night frost all around us, but we've stayed above freezing. Can you tell??)

(I'm hoping the cheepers are growing out their winter feathers quickly! They'll need them pretty soon!)

I do my morning walk speedily. 

I want to go to the farmers market because I know that today I will still find freshly picked corn at one stand and I will also find dahlias. I'm pretty sure the flowers will stop after this. So I take extra care, picking my own combination from these farmers.

Fall temperatures (see above), fall colors (see below).

I come home late enough that Ed is already up and moving. In fact, it's close to noon when we finally sit down to breakfast. Mindy's Bakery treats are great, even when day-old. The farmette melon -- well, I am getting my fill of it. The farmette pears this year are of varying quality, but good enough if mixed up along with blueberries or other fruits!

And now comes the October reality: I need to get some gardening stuff done. The weeds in some of the beds are enormous and it would be good to clean them out before spring planting. Better yet -- I could prepare the space and put in something still this fall. Now that the curly willow is cut back some, I have more sun in the field next to the farmhouse pathway. The hostas need to be dug out of there -- they fry in the sunshine! A combo of daffodils and lilies in their stead would be wonderful! 

So, I face the work outside and I'm ready for it, especially since the weather is brilliant today. There is, however, that unexpected surprise: the shocking presence of autumnal mosquitoes. For the first time in decades Ed and I are forced to use a Deet spray on our clothing and even that is no panacea. We work for an hour -- he cuts up the tree limbs, I dig up weeds -- and then I throw down my shovel and hide inside.

Toward dusk, we try again. Ed helps me dig out one of the four monster hostas. Bugs fly in our faces, on our hands, shirts, everywhere. We do it, and we get it in the ground by the barn, but it's no fun. We'll have to work on the rest another day. Mornings seem less buggy. Maybe tomorrow, at daybreak?

For now, we are spending a quiet evening together, on the couch. I appreciate this all the more because we have precious few quiet evenings this month together. I'm gone a lot, he's gone some. But all that comes later. Today, we are together and it is grand.

from Chicago

Morning in Chicago. Being a farmette person, I am now very attached to my country habits. Weed plucking, chicken feeding, pear picking. Groaning about the unreasonably large number of melons coming from that one baby plant we picked up for $1.29. (You can only eat so many melons before they start reminding you of motel and conference breakfasts.) Still, every once in a while and only in select places, I love to get my city fix. The neighborhood where my younger girl lives gives me just enough of all that I like about an urban walk: great bakeries to poke into, cafes to pause at, and unaffordable but oh so attractive other shops to stare into. I have a chance to do just that this morning.

I'm up at my usual hour, which happens to also be the girls' waking hour. I join Primrose for breakfast: we have our favorite, at least when I'm around -- granola with yogurt and a variety of fruits.

Everyone disperses by 8, but before that, there's time for a little art work! 

And sister watching.

And there's even time for a (rushed) selfie on a timed release!

But eventually, work and school beckon. One parent catches a train to her office, another parent drops Primrose at school and I'm charged with taking Juniper to her school.

It's a lovely walk actually. The neighborhood is quiet and very green and the warm sun today makes me think that my fleece jacket is very unnecessary. The little one has always liked her stroller walks and by this age, she actively takes in all that we pass. Makes me want to sing. (So I do!)

The drop off at school is smooth and easy and I am now on my own, in the city. With time to take a walk. And time to think about the utter wonderfulness of the visit!

And of course I want to check out the newest bakery in the neighborhood. Mindy's Bakery. Don't trust my photo, which is from behind the glass and therefore awful. 

Look at their website here to make your mouth water. I "only" bought a few bagels, a croissant or two, a strudel, and a danish. Enough to tide me over until tomorrow! [Mindy herself has the coveted James Beard award for Outstanding Pastry Chef, so she is no newcomer to baked goods. Me, I love the variety here! We have, by now, quite good croissants and pains au chocolat in Madison. But the buck seems to have stopped there.  Mindy and her staff push boundaries and bring in baking traditions that go well beyond what you'd find in Paris.]

Eventually I finish my walk and head home. It's good to drive in or out of the city before the day starts winding down. The traffic is inconsequential earlier in the day. Too, I want to get back with time to help Ed do the clean up of the cutdown tree branches.

Except we don't do any of that. Why? Because we have something that has been nearly absent all summer long: mosquitoes! Unbelievable! 

So now you'll find me wishing for that first frost! We may get it by the end of next week. 

We are ready for it!

to Chicago

Call this a quick break in routines: I'm off to Chicago, to be with the two little girls while their parents attend something or other this evening.

So of course I'm up early. Misty morning, pretty skies, but cold! 

Our CSA farmers wrote that they are expecting frost (which would put an end to the tomato season and, too, would take out the flowers from the remaining farmers markets). We didn't quite get that low at the farmette, but we hovered nearby! 

For now, our annuals are still with us... 

... and I even caught a day lily trying hard to appear lovely and summer-like!

The phone woke Ed and so I got to have him at the kitchen table, even at this ungodly (for him) hour. 

To make his point about keeping ideas about safety in perspective, he reminded me again that the most dangerous thing we do in our days is drive cars. And so he tells me -- let's fill out our absentee ballots before you hit the road. 

You'll mail mine even if I crash, wont you?

No! we'll mail them before there's a chance of that!

We take voting integrity seriously alright! We do everything by the book,  avoiding even the appearance of impropriety! 

Ed! Sign legibly!

But I never sign anything legibly. It has to be close to my regular signature.

Okay....

I'm off.

My goal is to be in Chicago in time for lunch with my daughter. Traffic is light, the music in the car is good, I make it in time to sit down with her at noon!

And in the late afternoon, we pick up Primrose. I am, of course, a picker-upper in Madison, but this pickup is so different: Primrose is attending a big city school, close to downtown Chicago and, too, it covers all grades, so I see her coming out as high schoolers mingle at the entry way. Primrose took no time to get used to this. She doesn't give it a second's thought.

At home now. 

Parents go out, she and I do art together. And then it's time for the two of us to pick up her sister. We do a small detour to Olivia's (a neighborhood grocery store). I should remember not to take a hungry child into a grocery store. ("Can we get jelly beans? Please! I never had any! How about Pirate Booty? Please!) 

We come into Juniper's school and it is like a reunion, in that many of the teachers remember Primrose from her early years there. Juniper herself is somewhat puzzled to see me. I don't know that she has been picked up by anyone aside from her parents before. Still, she gives a tentative smile of recognition...

And is further reassured to see Primrose with me.

At home, she reminds me that things have changed since my last visit back in August. She moves around now. On her own. Oh-oh....

Primrose is super protective, positioning herself at the the stairs so that Juniper doesn't go in that direction.  Yeah, we have a roving toddler on our hands! Best to get her in her high chair. Dinner is a great distraction.

Tortellini and broccoli for the youngest among us.

Thai buns for her big sister.

And for dessert? More broccoli for Juniper, who doesn't know that this does not really qualify as dessert at anyone's dinner table.

The rest of us opt for more traditional post dinner treats.

It is abundantly clear that Juniper is now ready for bed. While I go through those routines with her, I park Primrose in front of her current favorite movie (Robin Hood). This is perhaps not a great plan for a school night, but Juniper does require some quiet one on one time. Juniper is content, Primrose is content and thus grandma is content.

I do finally get the big girl to bed and as I sit back and think about the day I have to smile: Juniper is now 4.5 and her sister, the youngest of all my grandchildren, is rapidly approaching her first birthday. Such a beautiful age for both! Sweetly loving, oblivious still to newspaper headlines, to the grumpiness of others, ready to engage, to hug, to return that smile.

With so much love...

known dangers

Things you think are dangerous oftentimes turn out to be quite tame. On the other hand, things that cause less worry may knock you down with such force you wont even know what hit you.

That's one of those thoughts I keep in my head when I know we are engaged in so called dangerous activities. Me, washing down the glass roof, Ed chopping down trees. So I am not totally concerned when he makes this deal with a guy who owns a cherry picker, aka an aerial work platform ("AWP"). This machine was broken and Ed offered to fix it for its owner in exchange for a one day's loan. We have a number of trees (a GREAT number in my opinion) that are huge and that have limbs hanging over places that would be damaged should they snap and come down. One tree of particular concern is the big willow that towers over our driveway.

Willow branches snap routinely. So far they have caused no damage, but some of them are directly over our parking space. Crash! No more snazzy Blue Moon car. 

Today, the AWP owner finally found the time to come over and set up the machine so that Ed could saw off branches from the monster tree. 

(but first, my morning farmette walk)

Because of the planned tree work, Ed is up almost as early as I am! Breakfast together.

And then he's out and the two guys (who probably have the combined age of over one and a half centuries) start the work.

And guess what! No one sawed off anyone's arm or leg and no one fell off the AWP and now we have a trimmed tree. I had suggested taking the whole top half off. Ed didn't quite go that far, but he did at least remove some of the heavier offending branches.

On the other hand, the expected Hurricane Ian dangers came to pass as...  expected. My friends, I hope, are safe, but that's all I can say that's good about the situation in Venice, where they live.

So now to tamer topics. Mellow, gentle kind.

I pick up the girl at school and bring her to the farmette just as the AWP is being hauled away. She would sooooo love a ride up in it, but we are firm. Climb in if you want, but the machine is staying low.

Ah well, it's a beautiful autumnal day for prancing!

We do have some time at the farmhouse, but not terribly long. We have a date! My daughter suggested a late afternoon cafe pause and she and I invited Snowdrop to join us.

(for Snowdrop, to be invited into a conversation between mom and gogs? -- heaven.)

I noted yesterday how deliberate you have to be in finding good moments to talk, beyond the usual exchanges of a day's events. These times with either daughter are always special. And here's a bonus for me -- I get two days in a row of daughters: tomorrow I'm to have lunch with my Chicago girl.

How good is that...

Now if only Ian hadn't been so... predictably damaging!

With love...