Friday

In the middle of the night, I get that question -- are you awake maybe? 

Ed is standing over me with laptop in hand. Surely bad news? Or maybe a message calling him out to sea? A new discovery worthy of immediate sharing?

None of those. He is showing me an internet picture of an animal that resembles a giant white rat. 

We have one outside, in one of the crab apples. It's a white opossum. It's very rare. Want to see it?

Under normal (meaning daytime) circumstances, of course I would be curious. At 2:30 a.m. (Ed often stays up this late), I hesitate. Warm bed, cold night, white opossum. Hmmmm....

The white opossum wins.

Ed thinks he's very attractive. (His cells aren't producing pigment hence the ghostly white color.) Of course, Ed would find most animals that visit the farmette gloriously amazing. But we are also aware of the threat they pose. Not to us. Opossum love digging their 50 teeth into a sleepy chicken's neck and sucking the blood out for a delicious evening aperitif. We've had that happen, right inside the coop at dusk, before Ed had a chance to close up the hens for the night. Opossum are nocturnal, but in winter they get hungry and they come out at unpredictable times. We are on alert! Ed puts a brick by the coop door to keep the hens in for a longer spell in the morning.

Of course, by daybreak, when I'm out to feed the animals...

... the opossum is gone. 

For now.

Breakfast? Well, I swallow my pride (it is not a perfect apple cake!) and have a slice of that cake for breakfast. It's not so bad that it should be ditched to the chicken feed bin.

We are in the middle of a cool-down, but the progression toward more wintery days is gradual. Today, the sun is still out and the day is just a tad cooler. (60F yesterday, 45F today; or -- a drop from 15C to 7C.) It really is fine for a walk in our local park.

The kids at pick-up are bouncy and in good spirits.

We move smoothly through our Friday routines -- dance, violin, and a meet up with the youngest sib...

And by evening, I am home, with just Ed. Well, and the three cats that visit us here. No white leucitic marsupial tonight. Let's hope he has found a snug winter hideout elsewhere.

with love...

one last hurrah

We end the Great November Warmup today. And I finish planting. That is what I call a very happy confluence of events. Of course, one is never totally done with garden work, even now, in what is already the second half of November. I am constantly filling in holes in the flower beds, excavated by the hens who scratch like crazy, especially in spring and fall, when the summer lazies have left them and the winter freeze hasn't yet hardened the soil. And I am trimming spent flowers, not finding the contours of the winter garden to be perfectly set in place just yet. That stuff continues. But I can't call it pressing garden work. More like puttering around here and there.

Morning walk? A little nippy at the outset, but only at the outset. And very pretty!

Breakfast -- well, I decided not to really like the apple cake (too sweet, and just a tad too dry on the outside and gummy on the inside), so I pushed that aside in favor of, ho hum, oatmeal.

I took a walk, but not a long one. Another one of those nuisance appointments got in the way.

And I picked up the kids for a more normal afternoon at the farmhouse.

And wait, not done yet! I had a dinner with former colleagues.

So yes, a packed day, but at what point does it feel special? I mean, we're not likely to see weather like this again until April. How do we honor it? Well, as is so often the case, the beauty comes out in little spurts throughout. I feel it in the drive to pick up the kids, loving the hazy yet warm sun hitting my left shoulder both going there and heading back. I see it in a glance out the kitchen window while cutting up fruits for the kids and for breakfast, because the crab still looks so good before the birds rip out all those lovely red apples. And in that final dig into the soil to get one last Tahiti Daffodil bulb in, with a simple unzipped sweatshirt keeping me perfectly warm. Fleeting pleasures to be sure, and yet there are so many of them!  

Tonight we'll crank up the furnace and get ready for the big cooldown. By Thanksgiving, reaching 32F ()C) will feel like a gift.

100

In my family, we're all focused on this singularly memorable fact: my mother turns 100 today.

I told the kids yesterday that, to my knowledge, I'd never met anyone who was 100 before. Have you?? We read about these people. And I remember hearing that in the past you got a postcard from the president (or was it some other famous celebrity?) when you turned 100. My mother received no such card. I'm sure the practice stopped once it became more commonplace to reach that mark. And yet, I never met anyone who did reach it.

The birthday girl kept emphasizing that she did not want any celebration. She is not one who likes celebrations of any sort and we haven't ever celebrated this day before for that reason. Well, I mean, depends on what you call a celebration. Most people who claim that they don't want a fuss on their birthdays actually don't mean that you should ignore their day and in that my mother is no different. She welcomes family calls, cards, etc. So it's a spectrum: Ed is on one end and quite a number of family members are on the other and my mom is somewhere in the middle I suppose. (It's much easier to deal with people at the extremes. You need say or do nothing with Ed and he wont be disappointed. You bring gifts and bake cakes for those who love birthdays and they wont be disappointed. The middle? You're always going to come in not exactly right.)

Anyway, it's her birthday and she is 100.

And it is again a day that should be spent outdoors because it's just stunning weather! 

I can plunge into planting!  But first, I bake an apple cake. This cake sounded so good for a November breakfast that I just had to whip it together. With cinnamon and walnuts. I send Ed to get cupcakes -- a more appropriate birthday treat from Batch Bake Shop for our visit with my mother this afternoon.

(Breakfast time. No, not on the porch! That ship has sailed and wont be back until May. But cosy and sweet at the kitchen table.)

And yes, I do mean our visit. Again, this is tough to figure out, because normally my mother is not keen on visitors. But I tested the waters and she seemed up for this (maybe)... 

(I'm thinking about all this during my quick and dirty bike ride, where the colors of winter grasses and of cranes blend...)

And so as soon as school is out, I pick up the two older kids, and the parents pick up the youngest guy, and Ed scoots over on his motorbike and we all meet up at my mom's place...

... for an uncelebrated but acknowledged birthday of great significance, if you're counting years, which she is not, maybe. Or maybe she is, but isn't saying.

(Ed snaps this one...)

Afterwards, I take the older two out for ice cream. There are many reasons to choose this day for it and at the top of the list is, of course, the perfect ice cream weather. And my mother's birthday, though she doesn't venture beyond her home and doctor's offices so it's just me and the kids.

From there, I take them not to the farmhouse but to their house, where I hover for a while with my books, fruits and other typical gaga paraphernalia. 

In the evening, I exhale. The day could have gone in any number of different directions but I think in the end we all agree that it went in good ones and my mom's birthday is now 364 days away and the next birthday for us, a December one, belongs to the youngest member of my family which is, well, exciting. The baby of the clan always gets extra attention because, well, she's the baby!

with love...

Tuesday

You will not hear much from me today. The bulbs have arrived, the weather is splendid, a bike ride is de rigeur, the kids need to be picked up -- in other words I have before me an unusually non-Novemberish day, filled to the brim with all that must be done before we close the door to fall and await the pleasures of a solid snowfall.

Indeed, a brisk walk in the morning (to the barn)...

... is quickly followed by a project to bring down a cracked limb on our tall honey locust tree. Ed throws the saw up high (it takes many throws to position it well) and then we each take an end of the rope and start sawing.

A quick and perfect breakfast follows...

And very shortly after, I'm out. Planting, biking. 

Interrupted, unfortunately, with a very unproductive appointment (dont ask -- there have been snafus with this for weeks, and the mistakes continue... one just has to laugh!), so that I can only put in a third of the bulbs that arrived yesterday. Still, progress was made!

Kids next.

(He always comes to the car with the same words: guess what! -- then quickly launches into a complicated story of school happenings that are sometimes deserving of that initial excitement...)

(She succeeded in stealing Ed's mouse! quite the feat -- she's been trying for a while!)

(And the indoor lights are back with us, lighting the way up our very steep staircase.)

(And the outdoor lights continue to shine light on the walkway as we leave the farmhouse...)

Reheated foods today and yet another ending to a Brit crime drama series that I loved! I always think -- we'll never find something as deliciously good to watch, but in fact, we always do.

And the cats join us for supper (they get shredded Italian cheese as a special treat), and the candle glows and the evening is so fine!

with love...

Monday

Important moments from this day will include (I'm sure of it!): an appreciation for the incredibly beautiful weather (slated to be with us today, tomorrow and the next day), an ambitious bike ride (before Covid, it would have been routine, but for the post Covid weeks -- ambitious!), and a happy anticipation because -- wouldn't you know it -- targeting this beautiful set of days! -- my last batch of daffodil bulbs is due to arrive! 

But first, the usual, done with the bounce that comes with unexpectedly superb weather...

Well, breakfast isn't bouncy. it's serene and reflective. We talk about sailing (Ed is still considering a saling trip this year, but I think he'll talk himself out of it). About the kids and their rapidly exploding vocabulary (he is surprised that Snowdrop is no longer, well, little in her behaviors). About the cats. The everyday stuff that keeps us grounded and happy.

Now comes the ambitious bike ride: I'd picked up some cookies at the bakery last Saturday. Sparrow loves these so much, that he will do practically anything you ask of him, really anything, just for an extra sliver (think one sixth, shaped in a pie wedge) of Madison Sourdough's chocolate chip cookie. And lo! I opened the bag and found that they inserted, by mistake of course, three espresso cookies. With a very pronounced taste of, guess what, espresso! Neither Ed nor I could eat these and so the chickens got a weekend lift as they bounced around the farmette lands, spirited by shots of caffeine from the cookies. Madison Sourdough promised to replace the mistake and so off we go, biking across town in the search of the Sparrow-pleasing treats. 

I had the feeling that I was pedaling at a slower pace than before Covid, but, we got to the bakery in 45 minutes and took only 40, with the wind, coming back. Same as before.

(take in that blue sky! ... and the hawk keeping tabs on Ed's whereabouts...)

School is closed for the kids (one of those days where working parents are left to fend for themselves -- something that is easier for those who can work from home, but still a drag), so I pick up Snowdrop at her home (Monday is Snowdrop solo day) and bring her to the place of the twinkling lights! Well, not so visible in the day time and not so twinkling, I suppose, but you get the idea. 

(Do note the fall colors though -- they're with us still!)

We read. A lot! I'm thinking that this girl will someday fall in love with audio books. She is a terrific reader herself, but she just loves the drama of someone reading the story out loud, especially when the plot is fast paced and with unanticipated twists and turns. Today, we plunged into full white-knuckle mode for chapters on end. It was exhilarating! For both of us. 

And evening came...

And I drop her off and return for that quiet evening with Ed -- especially wonderful after such a full day.

To think that tomorrow will be just as sunny, just as warm (we hit 60f, or 15c today). Remarkable.

Sunday

Wisconsinites are bracing for a week of interesting weather. I say interesting because it isn't going to be typical November fare. Sunny and mild. Stuff we normally see in late September. Stuff that pushes you outside with a threat: embrace it now, because next week you will have wished you did.

So we embrace it. 

Early morning walk -- I pause to admire the crabs. The cats meow, the chickens squawk, but I ignore them. I do a very leisurely walk to the barn.

(a redhead and a blonde!)

Breakfast? Delightfully yummy. I'm trying to rush through opened jars of jam so that by the time winter strikes, I can open the ones we bought yesterday at the market.

And now for our outdoor work: Ed is dissatisfied with the way the lights are hanging on the porch (he can be fussy that way!) and so he rehangs them. He tells me -- I'd put up the path lights, but some vermin chewed up the extension chord. Most people would toss that chord and put in a new one. Not so Ed. He sets out to repair the gnawed wires. 

And then we get on our bikes and head out to McFarland. Over the river and through the woods...

We actually have a destination in mind -- the McFarland House Cafe. It's just the right amount of biking -- 37 minutes each way. Well, 50 if you take a wrong turn! And it's a place that's new for us. A rare bird in a very familiar landscape.

(timed release...)

(the ride back is against the wind -- a real gusty wind that got these kite surfers excited on Lake Waubesa!)

I'd say that's a goodly amount of outdoor movement! 

In the evening the young family is here for dinner. And what do you know -- the wires are fixed, the pathway lights are up and running!

(inside, the cheese board is being raided!)

The mood is, despite the warm up, November-ish. So many of us are thinking now about turkey dinners and holiday preparations. 

(engaged in the business of picking out a holiday gift...)

Call these the distractions -- ones that move us forward. Important, because frankly, there's so much going on in this world right now, that not one of us, not even those who are predisposed toward optimism, can sail forth with total freedom from disquiet. So we lose ourselves for a few weeks in the world of gingerbread and colorful porch lights and lighted menorahs and almond croissants. (Wait, almond croissants??) And family dinners. And in these, we find peace. And love.

Saturday

It's all because of the cheese curds. If there is an addiction to these squeaky bits of salty cheese, Ed has it. And he is fussy. Most wont do. He likes Farmer John's cheese curds. So much so, that even though our local market has closed up shop for the season, and even though Farmer John usually spends the winter with his wife's family in the Philippines, Ed called him to ask if perhaps he's still making curds before his imminent departure.

He is. Moreover, Farmer John is doing one more market this year -- today, all the way in Sun Prairie. And yes, he'll set aside nearly all his curds for Ed if we drive over to pick them up.

This then will be our destination for the day. But there's more: Ed found matching lights for the porch set at Menards (they have, in their string of rainbow of colors, the coveted purple bulb!), so add that to our errand list. And he initiated a return of the unwanted string of bulbs (no purple!) and the now broken gizmo that detects defective bulbs, and when Ed initiates returns, he doesn't really know what he is doing (it's usually my chore), so now we have to drive all the way to campus to send back the merchandise. 

And there's more: so long as we're driving all over town doing purchases and returns, we might as well stop off at Madison Sourdough to pick up the week's supply of croissants.

You can see how very quickly we move from having a beautiful nothing planned for this day, a perfect set of unscheduled hours, to a morning spent in the car.

But first, a very chilly walk to the barn. It's way below freezing this morning.

And a cozy oatmeal breakfast to compensate for the cold...

And now we are off.

Neither of us likes car errands, but some are more fun than others and I'd say all but the Amazon returns come in on the side of fun. 

Menards with Ed? Fun! The guy gets lost (in an intentional way) in that cavernous place of home improvement stuff. Me, I like seeing all the tacky and not so tacky Christmas decorations. We used to shop for lights here when he and I were a "young couple." I'd threaten to pick up a huge holiday penguin for the front yard. He'd humor me. For a while. 

(Back in the car now, he takes out the purchased string of lights and the long and wordy instructional sheet. What's there to instruct? -- I ask. You plug it in. Boom! There is light!  Ed always reads instructional stuff. He says now -- oh, but LED lights are so fascinating! Really?)

Winter farmers market in Sun Prairie? Fun, because it's warm (indoors!) and off the beaten path for us. And chatting to Farmer John is always lovely. 

He invites us to come visit in the Philippines. For a moment I consider the idea. SO many islands!  -- he says. That, my dear man, is not a temptation for me!

One more fun detail of the market -- there is a vendor selling his wife's jams. Ann in a Jam -- is the brand name. And he has a sample jar of Cherry and Brandy Old Fashioned. I am very fussy about jams, but I have to say, this one is awesome! Immediately I imagine dipping a croissant into this on a cold winter morning. Could anything be better? We pick up a jar as the seller tells us -- but my real favorite is Strawberry Peach. We pick up a jar of that as well.

From there to Madison Sourdough. Another fun stop, for the smell of breads. Well, maybe by now only one bread...

Amazon return downtown on campus? Not fun. All those students! Football crowds today! Traffic congestion! Parking issues! You get very unused to all that when you live in the country. Honestly, leaving that behind as we drive home is positively exhilarating.

At the farmhouse, Ed puts up the porch lights (walkway and entrance: to be done). Old and new combined. May they shine brightly on us all winter long.

(I'm sure you can tell there are purple bulbs, right? Right??)

with love...