May ride

A gloriously sunny morning. The kind that makes you laugh out loud. Well, almost. But yes, I step outside to a lovely sight of a sun dappled garden.

I had made a batch of granola first thing...

 

 

... and as it roasted in the oven I had time to mow some paths, clearing spaces where weeds had taken over. I understand the sentiments behind a No-Mow May and a Slow-Mow June, but I find it easier to keep certain paths to a lower grass height, and surrounding meadows at a higher level. We don't mow nearly as often as most homeowners, and we do pay the price with a higher mosquito population, but if I want meadows and meadow flowers to thrive, I do have to cut back the grasses in late spring or else they'll block the emergent annual flower seedlings.

Breakfast time. On the porch, of course. Yes it's still cool, but I'm starved for porch time, so I'm past caring about the temperature out there.

Clouds roll in and we roll out. On our bikes. In his various readings and searches, Ed had come across a story about a farm ("Vetruvian") that sells produce, right on the farm. Not just their own, but all of it local, seasonal and organic. You order ahead of time and you pick up stuff over the weekend at their store. The best part is that we think we can easily bike to it in under an hour, mostly (but not only) along bike paths.

The first part of the ride is known to us. The farm is just outside of McFarland -- a town on the other side of Lake Waubesa. 

(hey Ed, where's your helmet? forgot it... )

But as we leave the lakefront, we have to eventually go onto highway 51. It's a busy road and it doesn't have much of a shoulder lane. Still, it's just for a short stretch and honestly, the destination is worth it.

The farm store feels so..., I don't know, both calm and well stocked. Not unlike a farmers market, only without the crowds.

We stock up on salad stuff -- greens, radishes, carrots, and of course asparagus. And a frozen pizza made locally. Why not!

 

At home again we do some more work outside: our blueberry patch was decimated by dear (and/or groundhogs), but the bushes seem to be growing out again. They are in need of a mega weeding job!

On days like this, I'm so glad I have a container of veggie soup (made yesterday) in the fridge. Reheat, do a salad and be done. 

There are two ways to look back on this day: with an eye toward all that we got done, or with a list in my mind of all that I intended to accomplish. I choose the former!  And now for one big exhale. With a smile.

(like clockwork: the irises come next...)

 

May song

In one minute of listening this morning, I recorded the following birds: Common Yellowthroat (with a yellow throat), always the American Robin, the American Goldfinch (gold all over), Cedar Waxing (beautiful yellow belly), Mourning Warbler (ditto), Song Sparrow, Yellow-billed Cuckoo (ha! With a yellow bill). So much yellow! Such a bounty of birds and, therefore, birdsong. This is why I took our breakfast to the porch, despite the still chilly morning. (It's just 55F/13C, but the sunshine changes everything. The psychological warmth is at a perfect 75F/24C!)

First though, there is the walk to feed the animals. We are definitely in the Allium phase of flower blooms. The peonies and irises will be next but honestly, the Allium is the finest transition flower: long lasting and a standout in a sea of dense greens.

(the first bearded iris blooms)

 

(and then another...)

I have two bouquets going right now -- one from yesterday's farmers market (false indigo and peonies) and one from the flower farmers' CSA (tulips). I like both of them so much that they will be the breakfast focus here, on Ocean. 

Ed and I both worked outside on and off all morning. My Clematis vines are picking up growth speed (in their third year now, they are finally climbing nicely) and so I asked Ed for ideas on a support system. He suggested a tripod -- similar to the one he put up for my older clematis vines. We put one in around the stump. 

And I'm still moving some flowers around. We took out a dead lilac and put in a couple of stems from the old lilac to get that going. And of course, there are the weeds -- too many to count! Too many to pull out in any one sitting (well, actually standing: I bend down to pull, which I'm told is terrible for the back but this is what I do).

The flower fields are at their moment of growth. This is a calm set of weeks for me. Aside from the weed pulling, I can pause with the hard work. Nothing needs staking or deadheading. There are no mosquitoes yet, so a walk cutting through a flower bed can be leisurely and really peaceful. May is such a good month for me! Especially (but not only) on a sunny day. 

The kids are here again of course. They, too, are in a good phase right now. Maybe it's that the summer is just a couple of weeks away. Maybe it's the sunshine?

It's not that we all need sunshine to feel joy. But I will say this much -- a sunny day, especially when it follows a string of the cold and the wet, enhances the good stuff and blurs the rough moments. At least that's the way it is for us here, on farmette lands.

with love...

May early in the morning

It's an early day for me. My friend has a flight to catch and so we leave the farmhouse before dawn.

It's a pretty time to be out and about! Nonetheless, I return (it's lighter now!)...

 

 

... still groggy from an abbreviated night. Back to bed for me! With Ed, cats and all.

When I am next up, the sun is out and the animals are reminding me that I still haven't fed them. I have a better look at the flower fields.

(the Allium dominates)

 

 

(Tuxie, the pretty sheep shed cat, is sitting in a field of hostas, but all you can see are the weeds!)

 

Yep, lots of weeds out there. Too, I need to push down the daffodil stems in the flower beds. They stay there until they're brown and faded, but I push them below the leaves of the surrounding flowers so that they aren't an eyesore and so that the lilies and other flowers can rise above them.

All this tells me that I have a lot of work before me. But first, breakfast. With Ed this time.

 

 

And afterwards, I do work hard, even as there isn't that much time. I'll be returning to it later in the day.

 

I haven't seen the big two kids since last week! I pick them up after school and tell them that yes, we'll go get ice cream. But what about the farmers market?? -- One worried child asks me. I hadn't quite realized that this Thursday ritual belonged to the set of "beloved things that we do together." What to do, given that the other child really wants the ice cream?

Okay, kids. We'll do both.

 

 

Could it be that the rain stirred up their growth as well? They seem... so much bigger too, than when I last saw them!

Our habit is to meet up with Ed at the market. They love it when he zips over on his motorbike and when, after we are done with our shopping, we follow him home. (There is a lot of waving and shouting out the window -- I haven't convinced them yet that he really can't here much in his helmet and that he does not have eyes in the back of his head.)

(showing off the free frisbees and sunglasses that they were handing out at the market today)

 

 

(At the farmette again...)

 

 

I would like to say that we slipped right into our routines again at the farmhouse, but when Sparrow ran into the play room, he came across a dead mouse, gifted, I'm sure, by one of the cats. But when? I think if it had been there yesterday, I would have smelled it. At night maybe? Who knows what the two house cats do when we are sleeping! Well, apart from the stinky horror of almost stepping on a dead mouse, I'd say it's a good thing that the cats are still good hunters!

In the evening, I mow some of the paths between flower fields. Ed had worked the big tractor mower over the larger swaths of tall grasses.  Time to do the trimmings. 

Supper is late and inconsequential. Neither of us wants a big meal and I haven't yet returned to my cooking routines. But we're back on the couch! With crispy wheat crackers and a TV show that makes us laugh. You need laughter in your life, really you do. Especially these days when there's much to be sad about in this world. 

with love...

 

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...