Thursday

At 3 pm this afternoon, I sit down with a cup of coffee and leftover bits of a coffee cake from Mindy's in Chicago. I am home. I consider it my first moment of total exhale since... oh, I don't know when! Looking back on the past months, my head spins. From a winter of travel, to spring planting, to June travel, to July lily care, to the Poland trip in August, all culminating in Grandma Camp that officially ended today. Ed is still away sailing, the house is quiet. The chickens survived the lock-down (forced upon them for two days by my absence, in which they pooped up their water, their coop, basically everything), the cats? It remains to be seen. I've spotted three out of six since I've been back. Happily, Dance, my hands down favorite, not even close, and I dont care if that's not fair, is among them.

I have on the table a magazine that I picked up on one of my flights. I dont even remember which flight. It was free and it was about travel and it looked interesting and I haven't had time to look at it. My to do list before each of these trips, gardening sagas, and camp days just kept growing. Now it is all checked off, or at least  no longer relevant. 

All is quiet. 

It's not that I thrive on quiet. For me, too much quiet is stressful! It means I haven't engaged with the world in a way that is important to me. It means I'm ailing, or unplugged, or in transition, or that I've given up. Still, I do greatly appreciate a period of quiet (I have three or four days of it in store) following months of being extra busy. I need it to think through all that just happened and what I have learned from it and how I should focus my attentions going forward. I need to review. I need to write.

But let me go back to the morning, which was lovely, and still in Chicago. It was a morning with my girls there (the dad had gone to work early, my daughter took the day off, my granddaughters were on vacation from school still).

(Juniper is very happy to have Primrose back!)

 

 

Just a couple of hours, but what wonderful hours they were!

We walked over to Mindy's -- a beloved bakery that really does have outstanding breakfast treats.

Equipped with those, and with coffee...

 (one girl catches up on the financial outlook as I wait for my latte, the other couldn't care less about market prospects...)

... we hurry back home...

(come run with me!) 

(okay!)

... and indulge!

And then the girls go off with their mom and I drive home. 

As usual, the drive from Chicago to the farmette is sentimental and sweet in that it's always full of exquisite memories. Stepping into the lives of the young family in the big city allows me to see their everyday unfold and it is always a beautiful experience. Both my daughters navigate work and family life deftly, with total commitment and infinite patience. I just marvel at how much they must do each day and how they manage to maintain a smile through it all. Sure, I was once that busy, but I always felt that I was under-serving one job in favor of putting my energies into the other. When the girls were little, I was too often distracted at work. My mother helped a little with minding them when I was at the Law School, but it wasn't a perfect arrangement and so I cut out of school and work as much as I could to take over. (And then she left altogether to go to California, so we made do with my part time schedule and a rotation of summer sitters.) My daughters, on the other hand, don't shortchange their work, and they most certainly do not shortchange their families. Not even a little, at the corners. And they even manage to have occasional evenings of fun with their spouses. It is an amazing balancing act and it leaves me with such a sense of happy pride. 

This is what I think about on the drive home. 

I make good time today: no Chicago traffic and so I am in town a little after noon. I stop for groceries and then I speed back to the farmette to take stock of the animals. The garden will receive some attention tomorrow. Not today. I am happy that I took the time to straighten the farmhouse before leaving. The kids were so good at playing on their own that last morning, that everything is basically put away and I can do this -- sit back and exhale. And do a Zoom call with Bee. And answer emails that have been piling up. 

And after dinner (which is a salad and a leftover pizza slice!) I pick up the magazine. 

(only the flowers picked by the three Grandma campers remain...)

 

with so much love...

Wednesday

Good morning, world! No, not today, flowers. There are a bunch of grnadkids sleeping over here upstairs. Garden work will have to wait.

 

 

Several notable things about this day:

First, predictably, I'm tired because at least one out of the three grandkids was up too late, and another was up too early. But, on the upside (and it is a huge upside), every kid in the house slept well and without any night-time interruptions, which is fantastic!

Second of all -- the heat and humidity are moving on. Thank goodness.

Then, too, we have a few activities for this day, but by 2, the local two campers will have been picked up by their parents and I will pack up the ship and take Primrose back to Chicago.

That's the plan.

So, they're up! (Because on a sleepover, when one is up, the rest are quick to follow.)

They occupy themselves with attempting to put together a half finished half wrecked Lego set with most pieces jumbled together in no particular order. They wanted to do a Lego and that's all I could find.

I take care of animals and fix breakfast.

We do have an art project and it would have been a good one had I read the instructions earlier. (They specify that you need to prepare the solution one day in advance. Well who knew! 

The kids want to do it. Let's see if it works for them.

 

It does! We learn a lot about gooey squiggle art. All mistakes were made, some techniques were learned.

In the meantime, one of the Lego builders perseveres, only to discover, after much effort and great progress, that she did the structure backwards. In Lego, left has to be left and right has to be right or it wont work. Frustration. Wrecking ball havoc. Amazingly, she starts again. Impressive dedication. 

The other two play a pretend game that I couldn't possibly follow.

 

And so passes the morning.

We do also fit in an outing to Eugster's Farm. For the goats. And the chickens and cats. As if there weren't enough of those at the farmette...

(the goats)

And we eat a lunch at a young family favorite -- Culvers.

And now it's time to say goodbye to the local kids. I pack up the car and drive the little Chicago camper back to her home in the big city.

It's not really camp anymore when parents and her little sister are around. But it is lovely nonetheless. I keep thinking of an article that appeared in the paper a few weeks ago, where the author described trips grandparents can take with their (admittedly somewhat older) grandkids. I read the comments to it as well, where one person wrote -- my absolutely best and most wonderful vacations with the grandkds are the ones where they pack and bring their parents along for the duration. 

I get it. I love it as well when I am almost wallpaper, and I have the whole family in the room with me, and my participation floats in and out and I am not in charge. I can sit back with a delighted smile -- it's almost like watching a good movie unfold before my eyes.

Yet, as you and I understand, the time you get to know your grandkids best is when you are with them and the parents are not around. [Although yesterday, when Primrose asked if Snowdrop minded being teased by me, I answered -- I know Snowdrop well enough to tease her just a little, where she and I can laugh about it and the big girl responded -- it's true, gaga knows me really well; she *thinks* she knows me totally, but she doesn't! Not all of me. I smile at that. Of course, I dont presume to know anyone that well. But the more time I spend with them alone, the more I can feel their small and big pains and triumphs.]  And, too, as the girl with the reconstructed Lego will tell you -- there's no greater satisfaction in this world than finishing something that is a super hard challenge.

*     *     *

In Chicago, we have a supremely delicious celebratory supper at Fish Bar. My daughter knows I have a deep love of lobster rolls (and have not had one probably since she lived in Boston more than fifteen years ago). It's a beautiful evening. Outside dining weather.

(Great to see Juniper again!)

I get to play that wonderful role of "there for the hugs," stepping back from the parenting tasks that are now back in the hands of ... parents!

Such great kids they are. No, really! Such great kids...

with so much love...

Tuesday

A foggy morning. Windows steamed over, the air outside -- densely humid.

 

Primrose wakes early -- too early. But, she dutifully stays in bed with a stack of books so that I can attend to morning chores before her official get out of bed time at 7.

Cats fed, chickens released for the day. Okay little one, come on down! It's breakfast time.

(She watches the cats on the porch wearily; Primrose has a deep affection for cats, but likes them at a distance. She shares that trait with them, since they, too, like humans that come to the farmhouse... at a distance!)

And once again, the cousins come trooping in soon after.

For some reason they are all into stickers again -- the reusable kind. A real throwback to the olden days!

Art project for this morning? The making of haunted houses. I know, I know, it's not even Autumn yet. What can I say -- this is what I found in craft-land. And in fact, they have a great time making up their own houses, even if one wanted an extra ghost, another wanted an extra star. Once again, the swapping center was open for business.

Our excursion for this morning is to the Olbrich Gardens. I hesitated on that one. Not everyone is enthused about the place, and especially on a day where the temps are hovering in the mid nineties F (upwards of 35C).

I needn't have worried. It's enough if one, or two of three is enthused. Joyfulness is very contagious.

 

 

(inside)

(outside)

 

One reason I love taking kids this age here is that you can give them the freedom to roam. Indeed, they lead, I follow a bit behind.

And as an extra bonus, the skies cloud over (which make the temperatures far easier to take), and I got my fill of flower gazing.

(This may be the only camp photo of the four of us...)

Of course, we finish off with a visit to the gift shop. Someday, I have to get firm with the "no's." Today is not such a day. Small souvenirs (for example -- a butterfly magnet, and a butterfly hair clip, subsequently and tragically lost) were acquired.

From there it's just a hop skip to Madison Sourdough, where a croissant lunch (with some variations and additions) is devoured by all.

Not done yet! We head from there to my older girl's house. She's not there, but I know a sitter is coming soon to mind Sandpiper...

 (some wild time before she shows up)

... and she will also keep an eye on my trio for an hour or so at the pool, while I rush home to take care of much neglected farm chores. (Animals come to mind.)

(at the pool)

In the course of the day, the three kids have begged for a sleepover tonight at the farmhouse. I hesitated on this, really I did. I mean -- no way is this a good idea! Three kids in that little room with the sloping roof? Keeping each other up? Waking each other too early in the morning? Placing additional demands on poor gaga? Who ever thinks this is a wise direction to take for the last night of farmette Gaga Camp? (Late tomorrow, the camp will shrink and move to a different location.)

Still, I want to give them this challenge. And so I pack up their teddies and night shirts and toothbrushes while they swim and try to create some credible sleeping spaces for them in the little farmhouse room upstairs.

And this is when I get a text from the babysitter that one of the kids has been hurt. Getting out of the pool, slipping, falling, banging the chin. Lots of blood. Lots of tears.

I pick up a very discombobulated handful of kids. 

The sleepover should probably be canceled. But is this the way to take a camp accident? I think not. I pack the trio into the car and we study clouds and give them names on the drive back to the farmhouse. By the time we get off the highway, all three are laughing once again. So I go with the moment and swing them by an ice cream store and let each pick out a carton of their choice.

 

And after all are showered and revived, I put on the movie the two girls wanted to rewatch and the boy wanted to see for the first time -- Descendants 4 -- and I cook up a potful of spaghetti...

 

... and I smile at how fast kids bounce back from the hits and misses that befall them in the course of a day.

And yes, we do have lots of ice cream for dessert.

Did they sleep well/at all/maybe a little? I can't tell you that yet. I'll know tomorrow.

With so much love...

Monday

Gaga Camp, Grandma Camp -- call it what you will, it continues today, full steam ahead.

The day starts calmly enough, though both Ed and I could have used more sleep at night. He was restless, I was restless. Too warm in the bedroom, he -- too distracted by details of what to take for his sailing adventure, what to have ready for it, me -- trying to imagine how to move ahead with this hot, hot day. But by 7 -- Primrose waking time -- both he and I are ready to take on the day!

Just a glance outside. Later, I will find the time to water the tubs. For now, nothing more than a quick look.

 

Ed leaves (for his sailing adventure)...

 

Primrose and I sit down to breakfast.

And minutes later, the two older cousins arrive. Explosive energy! Time to launch an art project. I have these bird houses... they need a decor... with colorful tape.

Done!

One of the kids proposes a walk across the farmette lands. I love doing that with them -- it's always fun to see what captures their interest.

But it really is too hot to stay out there for long.

Lunch: at the kitchen table. I ask them what they would like, knowing darn well they'll say pasta. 

They said pasta.

Immediately after, we go out to clobber the now filled pinata. (If you recall, we went to a parade yesterday and wound up with bags and bags of candy. The kids wanted to stuff a pinata with it and have a bit of a party today.)

Pinata now destroyed, candy dished out, swapped, and swapped again.

We head for the movies.

There had been much discussion as to which movie we should see. Finally they settled on Inside Out 2.

I have not been to the movies for maybe ten years. Since when does a noon show attended by one senior and three little ones cost a small fortune? And the popcorn?! And since when do kids expect their viewing experience to take place like this (3-d glasses and all!):

And the volume level: wow. Are young people deaf these days?

But in fact, the movie was fun, the story line is sweeter than sweet. Gaga cried at the end.

No time to dally after. We rush home, the kids change into swim suits and we head out once again, this time to the Fitchburg Splash Pad -- surprisingly uncrowded for such a hot day.

(in a water bubble)

Back to the farmhouse. My daughter is there now and her husband and Sandpiper arrive as well. Time for me to bring home a couple of hand tossed pizzas.

They're still here at dusk which is hugely helpful for me because I can step out to deal with the animals while the kids play, or do somersaults, or whatever.

It is late by the time the young family leaves and the visiting camper is in her bed upstairs. I have to think that they all went to bed happy and excited about the possibilities. That's why you go to camp, isn't it? To cultivate an excitement for life,  for activities that take you out of your comfort zone.

Tomorrow we return to it: the arts, the play, the water splashing. With so much love...