May rain and going home

The cold and wet weather continues, even as we are packing our bags, tidying the AirBnB rental, and getting ready for our return home. This of course does not prevent me from going down the hill in Mineral Point to get a cup of milky coffee for breakfast.

(I pass a window with the same street scene further down the block, photographed probably toward the end of the 19th century) 

I choose the more distant Cafe 43 because I am enjoying the walk, and also because they offer a larger selection of milk. I'm not fussy, but given a choice, I'll go with skim. 

 

As I hike back up, I think about how actually good the weather has been for us. On sunny and warmer days, we would be itching to be outside. Some of us like to hike. We often split up for this. But the weather has been so bad that we jwere forced to stay "home," and the conversations were endless and good. We played Hygge (ask scripted questions of the person to your left) until almost midnight last night, and we never spent less than an hour or two at the table, even as we emptied our plates easily in ten minutes. This is why we get together, after all. 

(a very long breakfast)

We need to be out by 11 and we are indeed out of the Jones House then. But not out of Mineral Point. We switch tables, moving down to the Cafe 43 for a pre-lunch, or coffee, or snack. Whatever. Really, it is just to talk some more.

No surprise then that it is close to 3 by the time I pull into Madison (our city is less than an hour away).

We drop off Barbara and then came back to the farmhouse. Diane's flight was cancelled and so she'll stay with me until early tomorrow. In the meantime, I throw a glance at the very wet flower fields, took note of the exponential growth of both flowers and weeds in my absence, check the water bucket (more than 2 in/5 cms of rain!) and come inside to greet Ed.  

Did you miss me? Of course!

I am home.

with love...

May in Mineral Point

Barbara, Diane and I wake up to rain. This would, in itself, be a ho hum event, indeed, even a desirable event (my flowers need water!), except that it is windy and cold out there. Very windy and, for May, very cold. No one wants to go out. Well, I do. I want my milky coffee!

I run into the nearby cafe, dripping rain. My camera is wet, my pants are wet. I'm not the only one there -- locals come and go, each one being such a regular that the cafe owner never even asks what she or he wants. We all say the same thing -- get a load of this weather! It's the wind that's the killer! But, we're grateful for the rain. The coffee machine hisses, I pick up some strawberry rhubarb bars, the aromatics are that of a happy morning.  

Breakfast, at home.

We talk. And I'm thinking to myself -- as we've gotten older, we have climbed onto a platform of commonalities that now dominate our time together. In the past, though we remained good friends, we lived such different lives that oftentimes we were lost to each other. Time would pass, our visits were scattered. An occasional trip together, sometimes a group meeting, but in essence we raised our kids and concentrated on our jobs. There was never enough time for a more contemplative approach to friendship. That has changed. And when we reunite in person, we immediately and effortlessly come to those shared spaces and it is wonderful.

 

 

 

*     *     * 

We spend the entire morning on the jigsaw puzzle and by lunchtime, we have assembled 999 pieces. (The last piece? We can't find it anywhere!)

For lunch -- no one wants to go out. Besides, we have left over pizza.

But wait -- my afternoon coffee! It's "only" drizzling at the moment. I pick up a very large umbrella and head down to the second cafe in town -- this one at the bottom of the hill. (It's called Cafe 43.)

This one has been around for a while and it has a more old-world ambiance. 

She is shutting down for the day by the time I get there, but I emerge victorious: a latte and some cookie/scone treats for the gang up the hill.

*     *     *

Is it really the case that I'm the only one who stepped outside today? We eat dinner at home: snacks of hummus and cheese. A salad. We want to deplete our grocery supplies, sure, but mostly it is the weather that holds us back. Who wants to stroll to a bar during a Wisconsin monsoon with an arctic feel to it and an occasional rumble of thunder? The Jones House where we are staying is large but very cozy and the heating system keeps it draft free. My two warmth-loving friends especially appreciate this and at this point in my life, so do I. (Many is the place that I will not return to because it is just too cold!) 

After dinner, we take out the Hygge game again. Ask the three questions on the card to the person on your left, except that so often we all chime in with our own answers. It's a conversation after all. And yes, we do learn stuff, even now, 45 years into our friendship.

It's very late when we finally call it a day. Tomorrow, in the rain and in the cold, we pack up, tidy the kitchen and head north to Madison. It's been such a good stay here, in Mineral Point!

with love...

 

May in Mineral Point

The three of us are in Mineral Point on our annual retreat/reunion/meetup. Temperatures are dropping and by tonight a weather horror will descend on this corner of our state. I have to say, this has been our May saga for several years now. Last year we even had a tornado rage past our hilltop rental house. Does this month always insert a small reminder that not all days can be bright and beautiful? That we must learn to find joy even in sub-optimal conditions?

We eat breakfast at the Jones House (the name of our "home"), though being terribly spoiled by my daily coffee routines back home, I dash out for my beloved caffeinated drink -- a latte. There is a coffee shop just a five minute walk from our place. What's this -- they have blueberry crumb cake! Yes please! I take it home for our dessert.

 

At the dining table we find a box of question cards. We'd already played the owners' Hygge game last night -- one where you ask each other questions that probe your thoughts on any number of things, from the mundane to the profound. The table questions are similar and we love feeding each other these prompts! Sure, we've known one another for many decades, but still, coming up with a pet peeve or a favorite purchase from last year is (the table cards err on the side of "very innocuous") leads to some funny recollections!
 

Afterwards, two of us sit down and pore over the pages of a cookbook of sorts (one that shows you how you might arrange platters of foods for guests). One wonderful aspect of this rental house is that the owners have fantastic books and magazines lying around. You could spend your days just going through them. Anything from poetry through art and history and of course foods. We lose ourselves in this for a good hour.

As these are the last minutes of dry weather, we schedule our exploratory walk for early in the day. Well, two of us do this. The third is determined to make inroads on the jigsaw puzzle I brought along (even as their are plenty of games and jigsaw puzzles here as well).  We'll help her when we come back.

 

 

 

(exploring "Pendarvis," a small community of well preserved houses from the early mining days of 1830-40)

 

The wind picks up. Time for lunch. We all go to the Wild Blue Yonder Coffee House. Quiches, soups, and a hummus sandwich. Delicious! (Few visitors at this time of the year, but many locals, meeting up to take stock of the goings on in this world.)

And another outing, this time by car, to the Brewery Pottery, so named because the rather huge shop is located in a 19th century building that once housed a brewery.

And finally, we all lose ourselves in the puzzle. 1000 pieces and two days for it. We made great progress! And supper is a composite of chips and salsa, with a salad and bits of smoked salmon. No one is hungry for more. The lilacs at the table? Well, if a bush is hanging over a public sidewalk, you're allowed to pick a few twigs off of it, aren't you? Aren't you?

 

 

It was a full day. We're preparing to be housebound tomorrow. With winds, rain and a high of 49F (9C), it's safe to assume that we will finish the puzzle. The house is warm, our food supply is ample. And it's so good to have unlimited time to listen, speculate, maybe vent a little, because there is so much to fret about right now in this country. But we end the day as always, on a high note. I'm the youngest of the three and still, I have joined the club of retired contentedness. If our kids our happy, our partners are still upright and our knees/eyes/hearts/minds aren't failing, we remain upbeat. And happy to have this time together.

with love...

May in Mineral Point

Perhaps you have read previous posts of long ago, where I visited Mineral Point with Ed by my side. Or, you are from Wisconsin and you've heard about, or visited this small town (pop 2 600) yourself. It is about 50 miles to the south and west of Madison. Keep on going past Mineral Point and in an hour you're in Dubuque Iowa.

 Mineral Point began as a lead mining town back in the 1820s. Settled by Cornish immigrants, it boomed. (Did you know that in the 1830s, it surpassed even the population of Chicago and Milwaukee?) More mining took place in the 1870s, this time for zinc. 

How important was this city back then? You could say that it is where Wisconsin began. This is where our first governor (Henry Dodge) was inaugurated. Big time events happened here. Construction of homes exploded. (The town retains the mid 19th century architecture.)But by the turn of the century, the focus shifted to agriculture. And the town shrank. And then the focus switched again -- the town reinvented itself as one that drew in artists and crafts people. As early as 1935, a couple of enterprising dudes began the preservation of historic Cornish mining houses here. This alone is why many want to visit Mineral Point. 

*     *     *

I wake up early. I want to do morning chores and be ready with breakfast by the time Diane wakes. I don't quite succeed, but she is a patient house guest.

(morning walk to feed the animals)

Breakfast (finally!) is just for the two of us. Ed is not an early morning riser!

And not too long after, Diane and I set out to pick up Barbara. We grocery shop, eat lunch and I point Alpine Blue southwest toward Mineral Point.

 *     *     * 

We have come here for three nights. None of my previous visits to Mineral Point were inspiring in terms of rentals, so I'm trying a new place -- an AirBnB right on the main High Street. 

 

 

 

The rental is big: an entire house of some historical significance. It's called the Jones House. I've seen a photo of it from 1895, with two gents standing in three piece suits in front of it. Right now, it is a beautifully restored home and some would say it has a modern Scandinavian aesthetic. Not being a fan of antique-laden rentals, I am thrilled with the looks of the interior.

Of the days we are here, today offers the best weather, tomorrow brings a day of medium okay weather, and Tuesday offers the most miserable weather you can imagine for a May day in southern Wisconsin. It is imperative to explore now, while we're still on the dry side of things. Two of us set out, one stays home and puts her feet up.

Mineral Point is pretty. It is also geared toward weekend traffic. Most places are closed on weekdays and certainly on late afternoons Sunday.

We check out the cafes and lunch spots for future reference, and we do go into the one shop that is still inviting visitors. Pottery, done by a very chatty potter. 

We learn a lot about porcelain and stoneware. 

Our dinner destination tonight? Popolo's. And Italian place serving pizza. It's open only on weekends so it's our one chance to eat at a restaurant in town.

Well that was nice!  Three pizzas and three salads later we go home.

 *     *     *

We're at the Jones House now, deeply satisfied. Sure, I wish we were having a string of warm days -- like last week! There's a porch here, the walks in the area are lovely. Not for us this time: we are likely to spend a lot of hours inside, with the furnace running. But of course, we're together -- the rare gathering of all three. Not yet stuck in the past (dont old friends reminisce during their meetups?), we talk about the present. And yet, sometimes I feel like we are back in the days where our kids are just tots, and we are still law students trying to manage little ones and school in one big exhausting breath. I could not have imagined then where I'd be right now. I'm sure this is true for my friends as well. We've had a lot of good things come together in our lives. Drama too, but good things stand out. I am grateful. We are grateful.

with so much love...

May friends

I suppose it's misleading to title my two Law School buddies "May friends." I've known one since 1981 and the other since 1982. and we have certainly covered all months of the year over our 45+ year friendship. We've done so much together (including travel to Poland -- both have come with their husbands to visit me there)! Nevertheless, the time we meet up as a threesome has fallen to the month of May for several years now and so I can't help but think of them, of us, as a May threesome.

One came to Madison a few days back (she lives in New Mexico but has family here), the other arrived this morning (she lives in Florida but loves coming back to a town she once called home). Tomorrow, the three of us set out for an AirBnB stay in the southwest of Wisconsin. Today, we're just hanging out at the farmhouse.

Of course, the morning starts with my usual.

(walk: allium, that purple ball, is my transitional flower, linking spring to summer)

(breakfast)

But then I'm off to pick up Diane at the airport. With a stop at the farmers market, because this is peak asparagus season and the tail end of tulip/lilac season.

(every other vendor has plenty of it)

Lunch is at the farmhouse. Barbara joins us for a simple meal of Madison Sourdough stuff and farmette eggs. Ed, before you take off for your hike, can you take a photo?

The afternoon and evening disappeared in the way they always do when you lose yourself to the company of friends. I did go out for a bit to water at least parts of my flower fields. It's certainly not enough, but some of my flowers are clearly asking for a drink. I'm really hoping for a solid rain in the next week, even if it does mean that our May retreat will have a wet day or two. We've had the storms, we've had the warm sunshine. It's time for umbrella weather!

with love...

May side-step

I wont bore you with the details of how I ended up spending most of the night and a big chunk of today in a hospital, having my heart tested and retested for signs of trouble. This kind of day may not be typical for Ed, but for many people in our age bracket, having the heart evaluated in this fashion is not out of the ordinary. Some people knit sweaters or chisel wooden flutes, others have their hearts subjected to tests. Some do both. In any case, for a good part of the day, instead of on flowers, I looked out on this view:

Our hospitals have some very nice windows! (And my heart is fine. I outperformed stress tests from the recent years. I'm right up there with when I was... 66!)

Ed came over with breakfast (I have no great love for hospital Rice Crispies), but I was not allowed caffeine, which hurts! First thing on my list when I get home later today -- make myself a nice cup of steamy milky coffee. 

*     *     *

Well what a ridiculous idea! Coffee instead of a nap? I feel like I've just landed after an overnight flight to Europe, during which I forgot to fall asleep. But oh, what a delicious indulgence -- a cafe latte to savor, because it was indeed sad to go through the morning without that little perk.

*     *     * 

I think about this short 14 hours in the hospital (I would have stayed longer had there been a need for that). The last time I came to this hospital was to see my mother here, a year ago. She hated everything about the place and she shared her views with anyone who came into her room. Obviously what she really hated was the fact that she felt weak. She did not like being 100. No medical care could help her shed a decade or two, but she never stopped believing that somehow people weren't trying hard enough. And here I was thinking just the opposite today: every single staff person I encountered was superb.  Friendly, tactful, encouraging, knowledgeable.  Our delivery of health care in this country sucks in the way that we pay for it and access it, but as for the facilities and staff (and this is at the smaller of Madison's three hospitals) -- they're all rather extraordinary.

*     *     *

I am home. There was no morning walk and indeed, there'll be no early evening walk either. Storms are passing through once again and though they are not as vicious as the ones that tore down buildings in Wisconsin yesterday, I personally do not like being out and about during a thunderstorm. One quick look at the garden to make sure all is in place...

And yes, I do pluck a few weeds out of the still dry-ish earth and then I go inside to sit back and think how lucky I am to have escaped dire medical verdicts and outcomes. 

with so much love...

May quiet and thunder

When I was a kid -- say in the age range of Sparrow (almost 7) or Primrose (7) or Snowdrop (10), my school days (and therefore the month of May) were in New York City and I cared not at all about the weather. If a day was beautiful, I didn't notice it. If it rained -- I suppose I got wet coming home from school. Summers of course were different. I was either away at camp or at my grandparents' home in rural Poland and the weather set each day's agenda. But I never knew what was coming! No TV meant no tracking of a forecast. My grandma would get the Polish newspaper and I suppose there was some rough prediction of what would take place in the week ahead, but I wouldn't have looked at it, or asked her to tell me the forecast. The way we judged weather was to look outside at the sky. 

I ask myself -- when did I become so tuned to (my daughters would say obsessed with) meteorological forecasts? Was it a maternal instinct that had me pay attention so I could protect my kids from adverse conditions? Was it gardening, because May frost, May drought, May storms -- these are important to take note of in your planting schedule? Or was it my frequent travels (because I had to pack accordingly)? Maybe all of it. Fact is, I track weather more than I track the stock market. (One influences my day's activities, the other -- my retirement.) I check on what's coming each day, each week, and even the week after. And I take seriously predictions of storms. And because my daughters are more relaxed about the whole thing, I make sure to send texts and reminders if I think a strong system is about to descend on us.

Oftentimes, the threatening whether does no materialize. It goes somewhere else, or disappears inexplicably from the forecast. One minute I see a 95% chance of storms with possible tornadoes, and the next, we're down to 71% and there's no mention of tornadoes. This is of course good news, but it does mean that over time, I lose credibility with all my warnings and precautionary suggestions. I remember a few weeks back texting my daughter, warning her that she should ready for an evening in the basement, with maybe the kids' favorite stuffies for comfort and passports placed downstairs for safekeeping (because these days citizenship seems to be an all important marker of friend or foe in our country). Not only did the storms never come, but in fact we got not a drop of rain. Which is fine, though I'm sure my girl rolled her eyes at this morning's message from me, because experience has shown her that... I... can... be... very... wrong.

And still, I continue to watch, monitor, and spread the word when I think storms are brewing.

*     *     * 

I get up early. Ed is going off to work more on the machining project and I want to have breakfast with him, so it's early or not at all.

(Morning walk: it's still about lilacs, though I see one of the clematis vines starting to bloom; white flowers, big, bold and beautiful)

(breakfast on the porch)

And then I study the weather maps. With strong storms predicted for the end of the school day, I send a message that I can't be the one doing the pickup of the two older kids. I don't want them to count on me and then have me not show up because we have a tornado warning. (The parents live close to the school, I do not.)

This leaves me with a very quiet day. Cats are sleeping, Ed's away. I listen to the wind. It's strong! And yes, it is hot, but the breezes are significant enough to move air around so I don't feel the mugginess that was with us yesterday. 

I work the flower fields. Weeds have been awful this year. Who knows why -- the soil is dry, you'd think they'd slow down, but no!

But it's not all garden work: I take out my bike and do our regular old 40 minute loop. I cant let that kind of activity slide! Gardening is hard work and as a result, I pass on stuff that normally fills our days -- walks, rides, leg movement! Today, I'm back in the saddle.

And then I come inside and wait for the storms to come barreling down on us. And when they don't come at 3 and Ed returns from his machining project, I bravely go with him to our local market. I need good asparagus! (There is no good asparagus. But we do take some rhubarb over to the bakers. We have a lot of rhubarb.)

On the drive home I think -- last week we saw a sandhill crane family crossing the road here.

Wait, who is that? Same family??

What are the chances...

Of course, it turns out no bravery was required for the market trip. The storm that came our way once we returned home was short-lived and inconsequential. The flower fields are still thirsty, but on the upside, there is no damage in Madison from the high winds, the hail was (only) pea sized, and no tornadoes touched down here. We surely ducked that one! I am really, really grateful. 

 

 

with love...

May heat wave

A second (or is it third?) day of steamy weather, and it will intensify tomorrow. We're told to expect highs of 88F (31C). In Mid May. Before dropping down to 40F (4C!) by Sunday morning. If that isn't a bounce around the extremes, I don't know what is.

For now, so long as there are no destructive storms, I take it in stride. There are benefits to a warm day. A misty, pleasant walk in the morning...

(Purple Allium stalks are starting to bloom)

Followed by a drive downtown -- all lost to a thick fog... 

...To meet up with my friend Barbara at Madison Sourdough. We eat outside. It's such a treat to take your meals outdoors, even on a busy street (and of course, to spend time with friends you've known most of your life).

And then it's back to the flower fields. The two W's: to weed, to water. It's hard to accept that I need to water in May. That we have had more dry days than we'd like this season. Last season as well. The new plants cannot survive a drought and so I uncoil the hose once more. Unlike Ed, who hurries back inside once he has stepped out and felt the heat, I am not yet tired of days that are this warm and I am not tired of hosing down the newbies. And still, I do hope this isn't a pattern for the growing season. The established plants have deep roots that know how to search out moisture, but in time, they, too will need help and that's a big job for one person with 11 growing fields (to say nothing of the meadows).

 

 

Eventually I throw down the spade and hose and go out to get the two big kids. They had outdoor races today -- normally a great set of fun activities for kids and parents alike, but in this heat -- they were sweltering. Lucky them -- they go to an air conditioned school. And here's perfect timing: Wednesdays are ice cream days!

(working through the frustration of not having all his running laps counted)

 

 

 

 

In the evening Ed bikes, I do some spot work outside -- not because I feel the need to do it, but evenings are in fact beautiful now: the heat recedes, the colors are sublime.

A month ago, there was so little color still. The flower fields were barely sprouting. And now? An avalanche of plant life out there. And flowers. Fresh and magnificent. To admire and to love.