summer thoughts

It's a problem when your backup camera starts to assert its age and begins a cycle of malfunctioning. I mean, backup by definition means that it should back you up, say when your one good camera is in the repair shop and will be there still for several weeks. When I traveled, I always slipped the extra little guy into my pack. Just in case. It's come in handy! Too, it's small. Perfect for those times when you just can't stand draping that hunk of photographic machinery around your neck. The backup camera has to fit in my purse. And I do not own one of those mega purses that would fit everything in your possession. Big purses make no sense to me. You never use one quarter the junk you carry in them. So -- small purse, small backup camera.

Except now I have this malfunctioning backup camera. Ed says it's just the battery connector -- it needs the occasional wipe. Really? Like, how does dust or grime get in there to mess with connections?

As you can see, I'm itching for a new backup camera. 

I tell myself -- it's okay. You cancelled a trip to Italy. You saved money. Italy is way more expensive than a small backup camera. Still, Ed's attitude toward buying stuff has to rub off on you! The planet is small and in trouble. We need to aspire to have less and use more of what's in the head rather than in the house. 

But it doesn't hurt to look at backup cameras on line. Just to look...

 

First though, there is that lovely morning walk on the most splendid August day! Warm but not hot. Bright, with clear skies and an unreal amount of August fragrance.

 

(opening the window in he mud room before I step out)

(Cherry and Dance: you're late with our food!)

(where will the froggies go when the lilies are all gone?)

(Happy, waiting to see what's next)

(August flowers)

(picnic table pots)

(the last two bold and beautiful girls: see you next year!)

(Am I the only one who does not mind the sloppy chaos of August in the garden?)

And of course, breakfast outside!

And then I just can't leave my post on the porch. On that white chair with the blue cushions. All morning long.

In the afternoon though I recoil. I hate feeling so spoiled. I've never just "relaxed" all day long. Really never. It's not that I have a strong work ethic. (Do you? I don't. Ask me how hard I worked as a kid in school...) It's that I have a million things I would like to do on days where I have a chunk of free time. This includes getting more active again. Not necessarily to return to the day-long toil outside of the spring season, but to do something that actually counts as aerobic movement. So I hop on my bike and pedal around the new development rather aimlessly, and this spurs my motivation, and I turn toward Lake Waubesa...

I park my bike and watch a family with big kids and maybe cousins or aunts wade into the waters, clothes on, just for the fun of it. They speak a language I don't understand. Maybe Hmong? (Some 20% of all Hmong Americans live in Wisconsin.) They seem, well, happy. And I'm happy with them. Despite everything. I mean, we live at a time when today's New Yorker cartoon seems so apt -- the guy says to his partner, both watching TV - "would you mind if I changed the channel to check on the other disasters?" Yet if you are so lucky as to be in a time and place where this hasn't destroyed your life (yet), then giggling foolishly as you swim in your sopping wet clothes and your aunt snaps pictures of the whole lot of you with her smart phone -- that's exactly what you should be doing.

I peddle home, still smiling.

Evening conversation with my Chicago grandgirl: about beach trips (hers), resident twelve-baby turkey family (mine), and December flowers (her mom's). 

More reasons to smile.

With love.

...of wines and vintage cars

When I buy wine, I nearly always buy whites and nearly always from the same regions of the world -- ones that I know and love. Ed thinks I should be more adventurous and he is convinced that somewhere in Wisconsin there may be a vintner who has made a bottle of white that I will like. And so not surprisingly, when he read about a special event taking place at Bothom Vineyards today (just 35 minutes to the west of us!), he asked if I may be interested in checking it out.  

I am interested. The event is their annual vintage car display. I think the deal is that if you have a vintage car, you can register it and display it. A lot of people come to see them. And I mean a lot! Like hundreds and hundreds. In addition, there is the wine. You could go to their tasting room and sample wines, or you could just buy a glass from their selection and walk around looking at cars with a plastic cup of wine in your hand.

Okay, that sounds like it could be fun. Not so much the cars, but the whole set up: a vineyard that has (if you read their website) gained some recognition for their wines, beautiful countryside, and people obsessing about cars. You'd go, right?

But first there are the farmette fields to clean up a little...

And a very very late breakfast to eat outside...

Shortly after noon, we set out. 

I always enjoy these local escapades with Ed. We learn a little more about the people who practice their trade here and we see some more of south central Wisconsin. I was just a little curious though why he would flag this particular event since he does not like wine and isn't much into cars either. Turns out he may not like driving cars, but design fascinates him! Too, his father used to love learning about old cars and that interest sort of trickled down.

In other words, at this particular event, Ed was really into the cars!

And I was really into the grapes in the vineyards!

And neither of us was really into the wine, but that's because we bought one cup from the cart and it was just okay -- neither of us could finish it and we sampled nothing more. The tasting barn was packed and Ed and I do not go into crowded public places.

I have to say, the demographic at the car show was rather defined: white old men. With some women tagging along. I felt a little like being at a retirement home. (Not to gripe here -- we are, after all, ourselves members of that demographic, but still...)

We may go back to the vineyards on a day that's not devoted to a vintage car display. I feel we ought to give their wines a proper sampling. I mean, they really do have a fine reputation. Another time.

In the evening the young family comes for dinner... 

 

 

 

...and it is just perfect weather for an outside meal.

And here's another thing to be said about the evening: everyone was in a great mood. Well, I suppose Sparrow had a momentary disappointment when his sister ate everything and with alacrity. "She beat me!" -- he kept saying rather sadly. It's not a competition, Sparrow. "Yes, but she beat me!" 

My wee substitute camera died at this point and so I stopped taking pictures. I did manage a smart phone shot of Sandpiper while I was holding him, so I suppose you could view it as one of our selfie moments...

Too, my phone picked up a couch shot of those three...

And the evening rolled in and the moon rolled out and life felt so good...

With love...

 

new routines

Saturday is a day when new routines are often formed. Farmhouse family visits, market forays, pool splash -- summer staples all -- are now being replaced by "breakfast with the girls." The kids are following new schedules and one includes a weekend morning class for Snowdrop. Following this, she and her mom head for a nearby coffee shop for a breakfast meetup with gogs.

Thus my morning yard work is sprightly! No dallying today. Well, a pause for just a few pics...

(Happy has taken to resting in the morning in the tub. Don't know why!)

And I wave to Ed and head out. 

Hi, girls!

It's another brilliant day -- perfect for a croissant outside.Well, for me. Snowdrop already had her breakfast. She settles for a cookie.

With an occasional snatch of pieces of my croissant.

 

 

 

A rainbow kind of a morning! 

Unfortunately, this particular cafe is very close to Snowdrop's very favorite cupcake store... She'd already downed a bit of a cookie. Can she handle a cupcake? No, she can never do more than a few bites. But those few bites are just so good

And it's only natural for her to come back with me to the farmhouse. I have some newish books, a new Lego set to build, and of course, there are her standby favorite story telling set ups...

When it's time to head home, we pick some flowers for mommy's dinner table...

And in the late afternoon, Ed and I do a tiny adventure: we head out to a place that's just a half hour drive from us, but we've never been there, possibly because you have to take the super highway to get to it and we both will choose a rural road journey over the super highways any day (it would take too long to go the rural way for this trip).

It's called the Goose Pond Sanctuary and it is under the stewardship of the Madison Audubon Society (read about it here). Wetlands, prairies, and a large pond. More like a lake really.

With migratory swans (or snowy egerts?)...

Sandhills...

And fields of prairie and trails cutting through them...

At the edges, the prairie abruptly ends and the landscape turns into one with vast swaths of densely planed corn.

So Wisconsin!

Though perhaps Goose Pond should be called Swan Lake? Just a thought...

At home again, Ed says -- you know, maybe in September we should hike a trail just a little bit closer to home. To cut back on that six hour drive...

No! You mean we are back to square one?? That cannot be! But I already found us a cottage!

(insert dramatic Swan Lake music here...)

Travel with Ed is never without surprises.

zinnias and sunflowers

I grow neither zinnias nor sunflowers here. I can imagine a beautiful patch of sunflowers, but the fact is, there are others who do this in the area and we can always head out to look at their fields. Occasionally I'll plant some sunflower seeds in my mixed meadows, but our resident groundhog family loves that plant to death so it's usually chomped off before we even see the beginnings of a bud.

August is the month for zinnias and sunflowers. (And other blooms too, but I have those on my mind at the moment.) And this day is so very beautiful! Wouldn't you choose to go to a farm with zinnias and sunflowers if they were a mere 20 minute drive from your house? Sure you would do.

But first, there is the usual tending to your own back yard. I'm still snipping Autumn Minaret lilies (three dozen spent heads today!)...

(the last of the July lilies...)

... And I'm picking out clumps of weeds here and there. Nothing systematic, nothing noteworthy, but still, I do care about the flower fields and each morning something does get a quick brush up from me.

 

 

 

Breakfast on mornings like this is just the best meal you could have! This scene which I replay for you every day belongs here because it is such a favorite of mine! If I could drink endless coffee without worry and munch on morning pastries with fruits on the side with total abandon, you'd find me right here for hours on end, every summer morning that has the glorious sunshine, the comfy breezes and the air that tickles your soul from every angle.

The rest of the morning I spend looking (online) at cottages in Wisconsin. Do you know how many rentals there are in this state (in various price categories, sizes, locations, dates of availability, states of cleanliness and tastefulness)? Perhaps a million. Perhaps more. For every night Ed and I are to camp on our forthcoming adventure, I get to have a cottage night as well. And because getting Ed to do this happens once in a blue moon, I am oh so careful in where I land us! So I search. For the second (third?) day now I search the internet making sure that I have something for us that we will both like.

 

In the later afternoon, we finally make our way to Schusters farm -- the one with zinnias and sunflowers. We were to go with the kids, but at the last minute we all flipped that plan on its backside. A trip to a farm with flowers, in the hot sun, and with lots of bees buzzing about did not seem like a stellar idea for at least the youngest of the kids. So Ed and I went alone and it was very lovely...

 

 

 

And we picked some zinnias because we had paid for this and damn it, we're going to bring those zinnias home or else!

Zinnias are very short lived in your vase. Honestly, why you'd grow zinnias instead of, say, dahlias or glads is beyond me. I mean, they are a stunning flower in the field. 

 

 

 

...  but less perfect (in my view) after a couple of days on your kitchen table. Dahlias age more gracefully and glads just shed their spent blooms leaving you always with something fresh on top. Total winners. Poor zinnias just turn wrinkly and brown. But oh, in the fields! The colors are magnificent!

Then there are the sunflowers. 

 

 

 

The farm has a sort of sunflower maze. Again, beautiful on this gorgeous August day.

(The farm also has goats, but then so do our corn farmers. And every time I see one here or there, I think -- I wonder if I should have gotten a pair of goats...)

And yes, there is a selfie. And with it, I'm posting a link to a very very funny New Yorker article/cartoon about taking selfies. Funny because it's true: we used to just take pictures and hope for a good outcome a few weeks later when they were developed. You got what you got. Now, we are able to inspect, criticize, reject. We look critically at every photo and trash ones that actually show us how we really are. Read the article. It's funny.

In the evening I make some more corn soup while Ed goes off to do his Wednesday night bike ride. I know, it's Friday. But hey, were you here for our weather event last Wednesday? Just compare it to this day and you'll see why biking got moved.

And so ends another summer week. There are so very few of them left... Savor them. Savor all that outdoor time. And take a few photos to carry you over during the month of November or March, when there's a lot less color out there!

 

Late, very late we eat corn soup and watch Modern Love. The new season came on today. All that and sunflowers in a vase too.

With love...