one person's canvas of great beauty is another animal's lunch

On this most brilliant April day ever, a day so gorgeous that I haven't the words to give it its deserving recognition, I look outside and catch Ed pacing the farmette lands. He's taking a break from doing his taxes. (When it's tax time, he keeps strange hours.) He shouts up to the upstairs window of the farmhouse -- gorgeous, bad news.

I know it's not the chickens. I see them milling around. I wait for part two of the story.

Your berry and currant bushes? The ones you planted yesterday? The groundhog ate them.

All the stuff that's growing everywhere now and the groundhogs have to go after my three new plantings? Unbelievable. 

*     *     *

One thing I like about Facebook is that, perhaps with a little intentional prodding, it has pegged me as a lover of art, especially turn of the century canvases. Impressionism, Fauvism -- I love it all. This morning, browsing idly through my FB account, I came across paintings by Bonnard and I paused for a while, exploring some of his stuff on this one theme: breakfast. Here's one canvas that I love (he has several, though I think translating "dejeuner" as breakfast is a little incorrect):

Is there a better mood setting piece of art, that so beautifully depicts that moment at the table, over a cup of coffee perhaps (tea for her), before the day fully swings into action, where you just revel in the enormity and wonder of being alive and having this chance to begin a fresh day? 

Here's our breakfast -- less artistically depicted, but as always, felt intensely by me...

*     *     *

It's still the time of daffodils.

But the eye is starting to dart toward other sprouting delights. In fact, right now, everywhere I look there is something enchanting. Smile worthy.

Well, I surely have work to do. Finish cleaning up the lavender field, move some perennials, snip off dead tree branches that, as I tell Ed, ruin my visuals!

This is is work around the edges. The main planting is yet to begin. When? Who knows. The plants need to get here (I use four growers: Oakes Daylilies, White Flower Farm, Prairie Nursery, and for a first try this year -- Bluestone Perennials), the weather needs to be hospitable. Sure, today we are reaching 80f (nearly 27c). A ridiculous temperature for mid-April! It wont last. And yes, we do need good spring rain showers as well. For planting? I'm not fussy! Just halt any heavy rains and toss the super cold days out the door. Anything else is just fine!

*     *     *

In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(the boy hits the cheese and the girl hits the olives...)

 

 

Evening indeed! The sun is still so bright that it hits the eyes of anyone at the table facing the west window.

(I bring out his sun glasses!)

Indeed, when they leave, even though it is nearing the kids' bedtime, there's plenty of light out there.

One more warm day in store for us. Tomorrow. I wont waste it! 

With love...

June day, with April overtones

Everything about this day smacks of perfection. Sunny and warm. June-like temperatures. So much that can be done outside! And we -- Ed and I -- both set out to do it. [Remember when I wrote back in early March that I will not have a day without grandkids until mid April? Well now, this is that day. I have no commitments to anyone or anything -- except to the work that waits for me outdoors. The timing has been perfect -- lots of joyous moments with the little ones when the weather was dicey, with a focus on flowers and plants today, when the weather is absolutely glorious.]

We flip things around a bit. Ed wants to plant the spruce, pine and fir trees that arrived yesterday and that we intend to use as shields against the development that sprung up seemingly overnight. 

Of course, it will take a while for them to become established, let alone grow to a sizeable height, but we are planting optimists who seem to regard time as an endless expanse of seasons and hey, maybe we'll see them get big, maybe we wont, but the images are there for us!

In the meantime, I take a quick look at the garden...

And then we head out! No, still not for breakfast. Today is the first day of the downtown Farmers Market. I'm hungry for a spin around the market even more than I am for my first coffee of the day! Ed wants to buy some cheese curds, I have baked goods to pick up at the bakery. Isn't that a fine way to get the weekend off to a great start?

The market is ... crowded! Considering that few foods from the ground can be sold in April, I have to say that this has me a little worried about how the rest of the markets will look. Ours run for six and a half months and of course, the most crowded ones tend to be in the summer when produce and flowers flood the stalls. Today, I have to think it's the weather that brought out the crowds. People just want an excuse to be outside.
 

Ed picks up curds...

I visit with Jaime from Natalie's, Bill from Snug Haven Farms, and Dave from the Flower Factory. I stop for a while at this last stand. Dave no longer runs the perennial heaven that bore the Flower Factory name, but he brings a few plants each week to the market, just for the fun of being there with a small truckload of plants. We compare notes on how our lavender fared this winter (I think mostly good, though it does get damaged by heavy snows). I tell him how much I miss having a local perennial grower. He agrees that all the flower people have closed shop. Annuals -- still plenty of them out there, but perennials? The sellers are all bringing them in from distant growers. 

Dave also convinces me to try growing some black currants and honey berries. I'm on it! I pick up three little pots and this becomes my late morning project.

But first, of course, we do (finally!) eat breakfast.

Now for the berry bushes:

(my wood chips delivery service!)

Not done with plants yet! In the afternoon, I head out for the soft opening of Kopke's -- my source for many, many annuals. 

 

 

 

I can't really fill the tubs yet, especially given the frost that is likely to hit us next weekend, but I pick up a couple of baskets that I can carry inside on questionable nights. And, too,  I get pansies. These are always my first flowers for a basket that greets you as you walk toward the house from the driveway. This one:

And I plant sweet peas. The blooming kind, not the pods for your salads and stir-fries. Our groundhogs eat the sugar snaps like crazy, so I'm sticking with the flowers this year. (Pansies and peas can take a light frost, so I needn't worry about next week's weather.)

Such an incredible day! I tell Ed that I cannot believe we are already in the thick of the spring season. I have learned to not anticipate it when we're in the middle of a winter month. To instead revel in the quiet joys of the colder weeks. Is this why when we finally hit the forward button on spring, I am so awestruck? So surprised and delighted all at the same time?

Evening. We are both tired souls. Ed naps on and off. I put my feet up and study my flower charts. Tomorrow is another gorgeous day. I have lots to do!

With love...

ahead of schedule

This April is full of exclamation marks. An unexpected snow, yes, there was that. It's long forgotten. The days have been stunning, the weather? Coming in at full speed! It is tradition that I should start hounding my two local greenhouses -- Natalie's and Kopke's -- on April 21st. Not this year. Ed tells me that Natalie's is already receiving its first customers and Kopke's, perhaps looking ahead to the sunshine of this weekend, just announced that it will be open both Saturday and Sunday for a "sneak preview." Will I go to either place? Well what do you think!

These early openings, early temptations, early coaxes are dangerous of course. Tomorrow we're going to hit 75f (24c), but next weekend, we're going to go back down to a low of 29f, which, of course, is below freezing. And a high of 43f (which is all of 6c). The spotty warm days can lead you to make hefty gardening mistakes. I always rush the season and plant in advance of the last frost date (most perennials wont mind), but these greenhouse openings are just an unfair temptation to start picking up container annuals. Still, I want to walk those rows of blooming flowers again! It's too wonderful to be this close to full blown spring!

Our morning is lovely. A precursor to a beautiful weekend.

Breakfast? Also lovely.

And then we set out for Natalie's. A week early! 

And there's a happy twist to her story: her husband had been stopped from reentering the US three years ago when he went for the funeral of his father in Mexico. Because we have a very... shall we say "complicated" border situation right now, it took him three years to gain permission to come back. And he finally got it (not without drama)!  And she is ecstatic.

And her flowers are beautiful and I buy my first basket of the season.

The remaining hours of the morning? Spent on weeding. You can assume that any unaccounted for hours going forward are spent on weeding!

Until it's time to pick up the kids.

It's a long day for me. I had planned on grocery shopping today and I did not get to it until after 6. Which means that dinner -- reheated chili and a salad -- isn't until 8. Full days are good days! And at least weather-wise, I know that tomorrow will be even better.

With love...

so what dont you like about spring?

Each and every season brings with it some things, predictable things, that make you roll your eyes, shake your head and hold your nose. So, after all my rhapsodizing about the coming of this season, let me turn to spring's shortcomings. No, no, I'm not going to gripe about the weather. For one thing it is quite pleasant, but even if it wasn't, we know spring is always finicky, sometimes cold, sometimes wet. If you want something else, you need to move out of south central Wisconsin, because sometimes cold, sometimes wet is what we have here and frankly, unless it gets extreme, this is what the growing season needs.

Okay, but spring's yukky moments -- let's get back to those. What am I thinking of? 

Well, one spring ritual is the tracking of ants. They want to form homesteads, preferably in our house. April is the time when they march right in and search out the food sources for their ant villages. Some of the ants are so small that you dont really notice them. Until you sit down to breakfast and open the jar of honey and find a whole bunch of them swimming in goo. You have to be vigilant and discourage these guys from setting up shop right in your food pantry. So today we vacuum and I clean out the honey jar and still I track down a handful of those little buggers -- underneath the place-mat. This will continue for the month. Eventually they will go away, but for now, it's us against them.

Then there is the porch. As you may have noticed, we have screens on three sides. The porch is also a resting place to 4 cats (though never at the same time as they are not exactly best buds). This means that during the cold season -- late autumn, all of winter, early spring -- every rain shower hitting the ground on the outside, every ramble of a cat, every gust of wind, is going to bring in dirt. Before we can even think about taking a meal outside, that porch has to be scrubbed, wiped down, vacuumed -- all of it. With buckets of soapy water, a powerful vacuum cleaner and not a small amount of stamina. Hateful task, but it has to be done and I set out to do that today. 

Okay -- those are spring woes, far outnumbered by spring treasures. [Looking ahead, I can list summer woes -- mosquitoes, for sure, and over-air-conditioned interiors. Fall woes? Wasps and yellow jackets, and the frost that wipes out all your annuals. Annoying!] 

Ah, but those spring treasures! Let's start with the morning exploration of the garden...

Breakfast? Still inside. Mornings are nippy and the porch is still dirty.

And then comes the ridiculously tedious porch cleaning. Ed asks -- can I help? But the offer comes too late and besides, I am too hell bent on being the martyr here, so I persevere alone.

Okay, good enough. Not that you can tell by glancing outside. Until the arrival of the annuals, the porch always looks rather naked. But at least it is reasonably grime-free.

And wouldn't you know it -- it's time to pick up the kids.

All those daffodils! What's not to like?? Oh, right. Porch cleaning. Ants in the house. And the kids would probably add -- the ladybug-like beetles! I must pick several dozen each day off the windows. Inside. And we have very tight windows. And still, they come in somehow. 

But let's end on a positive note. Look what's starting to bloom for us! Virginia Bluebells! To go with the blueberry muffins I baked today. April blues, of the good kind!

with love...

chasing the sun

When your workable outdoor space is increasing its shade quotient and you still insist on planting sun loving flowers, you have to improvise. Yesterday, we created a bed extension in the courtyard. The sunny courtyard. Today, I dug away at the ground cover in one bed that still has pockets of strong sunshine. I can do better than ground cover! I moved the stuff over to a shady spot and prepared the spot for maybe six new flowering plants. And I weeded one of the troubled beds -- the one by the driveway. All in the warmth of a beautiful spring day!

Of course, first came the morning stuff which these days always begins with my long gaze at the flower fields. Especially the one that I planted with daffodils last fall. A total success! The flowers are big and beautiful.

And I drove to the bakery to pick up cookies for Sparrow and croissants for us all. Oh, those bakery smells! Intoxicating!

And Ed and I sat down to breakfast.

 

 

One topic that has been on my mind (but not on his!) is how we go forward as we age. Will I move? Will he? Will we both grow old here? Who can tell! The imponderables of life. Still, I feel we need to have some strategy to tackle problems before they arise and we do spend a considerable amount of time on weighing our options. Did we come to any conclusions? Yes! ...that we need to work out some strategies!

When you are done with college or professional school or technical training you still have many divergent paths before you and you have that early life insecurity of not knowing where you will be five years down the road. Alone? With a partner? East coast? West coast? City? Country? Planning for a family? Still seeking satisfactory employment? Very few of us map out with any precision the path forward. We leave so much to chance, we keep doors open. At least that's what I did. Sure, by mid twenties I had a vague plan and by age 28 I was married, pregnant and applying to law school in the place where I lived. So things stabilized pretty quickly for me. And yet there were major shifts still to come. All the way until retirement.

It is really a bit of a surprise now to realize that the uncertainty of your early twenties is nothing compared to the uncertainty of post retirement. So much of what you do with those years depends on your health outcomes and those of your partner if there is (still?) such a person! And on your capacity to do things you've wanted to do. Your daily life can do an about face with one diagnosis, one heart attack, one kick from some external force. Your options then are set by how well prepared you are for this. I truly believe you are better off with your bases covered. And so this morning, Ed and I talked about covering those bases.

And then it's back to garden work which, I hope, will be with me til the day I die.

 

In the afternoon I'm back to picking up the two older grandkids.

 

It's such a gorgeous day that you'd think they'd want to just revel in its loveliness. But no, the twosome are in love with their routines. Or -- tired. Or both! A brief saunter to the crab apple tree (and now I have two climbers!)...

Then inside we go.

 

And late in the day Ed is back to doing his weekly bike ride. Me, I keep the porch door wide open. To let spring seep into the house and fill every nook and corner with her freshness and sweet scent of evening air.

eyes on the prize

Last night Ed came up with a terrific and sweet idea. Knowing that I feel despondent at all the shade that's taking over my Big Bed of flowers, he suggested that we move the picnic table to the side, which would allow for the extension of the Big Bed -- one that would remain sunny for the requisite six hours each day. The picnic table is never used for picnics. It's a work station for him (mechanical stuff) and a work station for me (gardening stuff) and sometimes it is a place where we pause, sit down and take stock of all that's around us. You have to understand that my flowers are visible from the courtyard and really only from the courtyard of the farmette. So it is vital to make that courtyard a place where you can do your work, but, too, where you can soak in the wonders of the growing season.

We implemented his idea this morning. And it is one glorious morning!

 

After breakfast, of course. We had leftover treats from Chicago's Daisy and they are so very delicious that even Ed couldn't resist them.

We get to work then. It's a major overhaul for us. We have heavy stumps that framed the table, and we have flower bins that now need a new placement, and, too, we have old strawberries in containers that require some thought as to their future. And the visuals! They will be completely different now! You can't really appreciate this until I fill the tubs with annuals, but the courtyard will now be along these lines.

Wait, we revamped it even more. Ed brought in some stones from the stockpile of dug-out boulders and we created a two-tiered bed. 

 

I'm glad I ordered some more lilies online! I have a new space to fill! And maybe, just maybe, I'll be more careful in what I place in this very visible extension.

 

We go inside for a quick rest. Ed brings up a a video from the NY Times and we watch it and I marvel at how absolutely Polish it is! A perfect capture of a border dispute! But of a less heated one. You'll understand the pun if you watch it.

 

And out again. We dig up the ground cover that abutted the picnic table and I replant it by the sheep shed. And the sun keeps going strong so that we are down to our shirts and even that feels like it's too much.

 

 

Working alongside Ed is right up there for me. As good as Paris! Perhaps better. The fields around the courtyard are my domain and he let's me have the final word on all of it, but the fact is, he is a design guy and making things work together in an integrated fashion is his lifelong passion and skill. He sometimes has a bad gardening idea, but not very often.

 

Okay. We do need to stop in the early afternoon. No, I don't have the kids today. I have eye surgery instead. Did you know that cataracts can come back for a second run? Yes they can! Out they come once more. An easy peasy laser thing. I'm home by late afternoon.

 

For the rest of the day I review all the perennials I ordered back in January. I feel the loss of our own local perennial farm -- the Flower Factory, but I have to say, there are so many places that will pack up your loot and mail it to you these days that I can hardly mind. And, of course, there are the annuals still to be purchased. Hey, did you know that Kopke's Greenhouses open their doors on April 18th? That's nine days from now! How did it suddenly become spring?! (I ask this in total wonderment every single year... The seasons do change. And we are all the better for it.)

Chicago eclipse

On the one hand, you think -- it's just a moon passing in front. It gets a little shadier for a bit. Like on a very stormy day maybe? What's the big deal? 

On the other hand, it's an event that happens rarely. I wont see the next one. So... shouldn't I make an effort to pay attention now? 

My last 94% eclipse happened on a morning when I knew little about it and prepared not at all. March 21st, 2015. I was in Cornwall. In England. I posted rough pics of it, which in itself was insane because such an event can mess with your camera big time. And of course, your eyes, though I honestly think you have to have a clear day and stare for a while to get blinded, but why mess with fate when viewing glasses are cheap or free at your local library? I had none, so I peeked, but did not stare.

And now here I am in Chicago still, and it is a clear and sunny day and the eclipse in this city promises a  94% covering of the sun. Same as Cornwall! Except this time I'm sort of prepared. But, too, I am to babysit Primrose who has spring break from school. We'll be together  Should I make a big time event of it? The Museum of Science and Industry is all ready for a public viewing. Should we drive down there? Or at least downtown? Is it worth it, from a 6 year old's point of view?

Let's roll with the events of the day and see where they land us.

First of all, I have to say good bye to Juniper, who is off to school early in the day. Here's one last pic of the two girls, together:

Sweet, good, loving kids. Both of them.

Okay. Dad is off at work, mom, too, is busy with her job obligations. It's me and the big girl.

There's lots of play. She keeps me so busy that I never even have a minute to pick up the camera. Late in the morning we pause to go out to an art supply store. Equipment for further play!

The plan is to pause at midday and pull mom out to lunch with us. At Daisy's. Mom, are you ready? Let's go!

Daisy's is the perfect place for a midday meal -- yes, good sandwiches, salads, etc, but also and perhaps more importantly from my perspective -- great baked goods! I am a fan of midday treats!

Primrose and I then return to our play station. We're building a craft project. You could say that I am a terrible crafts person -- I haven't the patience for small tabs and even smaller cuttings, nor the imagination for truly original ideas. Still, Primrose chose one where you build, with the help of glue and tabs, a mini cardboard camper. Who am I to say no to this?! We set to it, cheating occasionally by pulling out the scotch tape. And very quickly it is 1:30 and mom comes out of her work enclave and says -- let's go see the eclipse!

We are off!

And it becomes instantly clear that the best place to see this fantastic astronomical wonder is right here in the neighborhood. In fact, you need only step outside and look up...

It's all there, nearing the magic Chicagoland 94%.

(We almost don't notice the incredible luck of having blue skies above on this suddenly warm spring day!)

We go to a nearby park, one that has other neighborhood locals there as well. And a high school class from a public school. And lovers and nannies with strollers and dog walkers and grandmas too. It's a shared experience and a joyous one, because everyone is so happy to be out on this suddenly warm, brilliant day, doing this unique thing that brings such awe to us all.

I hope you had a chance to glance up at the skies today. And if you did, I hope you were outside with others, because awe is contagious. As is joy. And an appreciation for the magnificence of our universe.

I do have to leave shortly after. I want to get home before dark. As always, it's tough to leave this beloved foursome. I wiggle into their routines, I eat, play, laugh, craft cardboard trailers, and watch a moon pass in front of a sun, and then I'm out and driving home. I suppose I need this time to let go and adjust. And feel grateful that they are, when the traffic is good, a mere 2.25 hours away. 

With love, so much love...