wet again??

Dark skies, pounding rain, rumbling thunder. I wake up to another storm system barreling through south central Wisconsin.

Wait, wasn't this supposed to be my day of the Great Garden Clean Up? Don't I have three days worth of spent lilies to clip?

It's a wet, wet morning. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We eat breakfast in the kitchen.

Eventually the storm system moves on. There's even a ray of sunshine coming through. For a minute, not more than that. So shouldn't I go out and work the flower fields?

Yes I should. 

Not only do I snip away at hundreds of mushy and wet lily heads, but, too, I cut off stems from lilies that have cycled through all the season's blooms. 

It's a huge, wet, project, filling many buckets and many hours of the morning.

(looking good now)

 

 

 

 

And I dont sit down to recover either. Once done, I snip away at Ed's hair (once he decides it's too long, I have to hack away at it) and then move on to get the kids: pick up at school, bring them to the farmhouse.

Well, not straight away. They twist my arm to stop for ice cream.

Then home. Well, their farmette home.

I tell them that tomorrow marks the midpoint of their vacation. They're not yet at the point that they miss school. That doesn't come until you head out to get new school supplies. For some reason, getting fresh folders and pencils and markers really leaves you breathlessly eager to put them to good use again. For now, vacation rules! 

For me as well. I never pick up kids now who are tired, disappointed, or overwhelmed by the social let alone academic demands of the day. They're just plain happy. (And hungry!) To five and a half more weeks of happy.

with so much love...

return to farmette life

Yes, it went quickly. One day I am immersed in my younger daughter's Chicago life -- her market, her local coffee shop, a walk to the park around the corner, a dinner in a new neighborhood bistro -- the next morning, I am spending the last precious minutes, watching them march through their morning routines. Get the girls dressed, pack a lunch, feed hungry mouths, braid hair, put on sunscreen. (The younger girl is in her same school for the summer, but the older girl is onto a new experience -- bikers' camp -- for the week.)

 

(good morning!)

(to you as well!)

(hair braided: check!)

(hair braided: check)

(time to go? really?)

The little one is off and away, I read Ramona with the older one and then she leaves, I leave, the visit is behind us. Sigh... Well, no matter -- I'll see them next month for sure.

I asked for coffee shop recommendations -- they have so many! Should I try a new one? -- they point me to Allez. Sounds French! I drive over -- oh, but it feels neigborhoody and very Chicago! Just perfect!

Equipped once again with a croissant and a milky coffee for the car ride (oh, the crumbs!), I head home.

 

It's a strange day in all other respects: the garden is a mess and I mostly let it stay that way. (I snip away a couple hundred flowers just on my path in and out of the farmhouse so that it wouldn't pain me to look at all that neglect!) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There had been a storm the night I was away: four inches of rain fell in a very short period of time. Everything is damp, made more so by the muggy air outside. I decided to wait until tomorrow morning to do a thorough clean sweep. It'll be me and the mosquitoes out there!

Too, I promised to do the one month walk through over at Steffi's House. The construction crew will be back to make minor adjustments to their work in places where adjustments are needed (almost none!). While there, I said goodbye to the young Polish mom and her baby -- they're traveling back home tomorrow. Needless to say, I dont envy her the nine hour flight with a newborn!

Back home, I feel I could do with a nap, but instead, I take to making lists. So many lists! Then I throw it all down (attending to what's on the lists is a whole 'nother project for another day!), have a nice cup of coffee and exhale.

A short spell digging up the flower bed by the driveway, a check in on my very reluctant to do anything at all mother, and then I call it quits. Tomorrow is another day, right?

 

(almost ready for planting)

 

(the cleaned up trumpets in the late afternoon...)

Evening at home. Reheated soup, a movie, a quiet moment. To think, to plan, to savor. And to love.

 

 

urban interlude

I swore I would not go away at all in July. The garden needs me and I need it as well! But there's going to be an exception -- to see my granddaughters in Chicago. If they can't come here (due to visitors, commitments, musical events, what have you), I'll go there. This morning, very early, perhaps too early, I set out. No, no lily plucking. I was happy enough to grab a cup of coffee at Tati's, and a peach and a stale croissant from home -- to drink and eat while driving.

(glance at the fields just outside the porch)

(stepping out with my bag and camera)

It can't be a long visit and indeed, it's imperfect because this weekend, too, the younger family had events to attend and so did I. So we squish in time in between and we make do. 

Hi, kids!

(kids greet me with songs)

It's a beautiful day and we set out right away to the local Wicker Park Farmers Market.

You'd think it would be very similar to ours "up north," and it is, sort of. But in the end each market is unique and special, with a personality all its own.

They pick up produce, I get flowers and some of us also load up on local La Boulangerie croissants. Almond for me this time. Plain and chocolate for the girls.

(walk home, again with song...)

Lunch is at home.

And we do split the time between the house and the great outdoors. 

 

 

 

Primrose is enthusiastically picking up speed on her bike riding. I tag along behind her and her dad while Juniper naps.

(up now: a very musical day!)

Dinner? Absolutely delicious, at Bar Parisette. A new place for all of us. We take the bus there and walk the few miles back, just because it is such a special, beautiful evening!

[And yes, I am aware of the political upheaval taking place in D.C., or in Delaware, or, truthfully, in all corners of this country. I'm sure we will do exactly the right thing. Hope springs eternal.]

With a full heart and so much love...

a different kind of July day

I've never come across a doppelganger -- of me or of anyone else for that matter. Do they even exist? But I did run into someone who had a remarkably similar (in form if not in content) life to mine. I wont bore you with the checklist of shared experiences, but I'll just note that she is an author person and I met her because she had the table next to mine at the Oregon Public Library today at the "Meet your Local Author" even held there today. (Her book is about Palestinian struggles -- something she knows intimately, being married to a Palestinian and raising three Palestinian children.)

As you may know, I do not love doing PR work on stuff I've written. I've agreed to exactly one reading, two interviews, and I did submit my book (Like a Swallow) for a competition and it did bring me a Finalist medal, for what it's worth. And that's it. But the Oregon Public Library event coordinator is a dynamic young woman who puts together great community events and I was reluctant to say no to the invite she sent out. Especially since this Local Author event was to take place on a Saturday, where my one other commitment was merely to snip lilies. 

And so this morning, I snipped only half the beds (no time!). And I took only a few pics.

(good morning!)

(bright and early)

(well, well, the glads --gladiolus murielae-- are starting to bloom! Their white flowers with grape throats, with tall straight leaves are stunning among the lilies!)

And I ate such a hurried breakfast on the porch... 

 

 

 

... that half my coffee stayed in the mug while I dashed about getting stuff ready for the book event. Because, of course, I'd done nothing at all to prepare for it. I wasn't even sure if I had the books to bring for a display and sale. In the end I scrounged up a handful. Thank goodness, because they did sell. 

Embarrassingly, I pulled out the poster boards from the elementary school Poland presentation I did last spring in my grandkids' school, and I dragged out the kid Polish costume I had in the closet. I had to put something on my table! 

Ha! They were, in fact, a draw. People liked to look at pictures of pierogi and comment on how their grandmother used to make some of those as well. Those who purchased the book will be disappointed to learn that I write nothing about pierogi in it.

My publisher (Little Creek Press) was at the event (here we are!)...

... and she lightly wagged her finger at my reluctance to push my book more. She did secretly tell me that she loved the cover of mine still so very much (she designed it, but I suppose you always have ones you're especially proud of), perhaps hoping that this would inspire me to put it out there more than I have done, but it's no use. I like to write. I don't like to promote.

 

I did not get home until late afternoon and I felt all talked out by then. Thank goodness Ed and I lead a quiet sort of existence. I wanted to say absolutely nothing to anyone for the rest of the day. (Yes, I admit it... I'm becoming more quiet with each passing year!)

Still, I felt compelled to return to my lily snipping job. Reluctantly. After all, the day will soon be over and the next day will bring on a new set of unsnipped lilies. Why not just wait until then?!

 

Am I getting garden lazy??

With that thought in mind, I took out my shovel and started in on the destruction of the driveway bed.

The bugs were on high alert, but I persevered. Ed helped by standing nearby and waving the bug zapper that makes a very satisfying snapping sound when it hits a mosquito. Small progress is better than no progress at all. (Can I appropriate this as my gardening slogan going forward?)

(in the afternoon light)

In the evening I reheated the soup and made salads and exhaled. Ed found a show for us to watch, we ate chocolate. A very satisfying conclusion to an unusual July day.

with love...