Happy both days to you

He is 72. We have been together for 17 years. Today marks the day for both -- the birthday, the anniversary. Today is also the last day we have, to be in each others company. For a while anyway.

In thinking about all this, I was tempted to plan nothing special at all. Indeed, in glancing back at the last handful of years, I see that it became almost routine to do nothing much. We seem to have always gone for a walk in our local park (something that we do maybe 200 days out of the year). And oftentimes on October 20th we'll make a point of eating take-out, to free me from planning and preparing a dinner. And that's it!

So maybe this year we can just say happy birthday, happy anniversary and return to our regularly scheduled programing?

No, this year, Ed nudges us into something else. Let's do some trail clearing. And then grab a lunch. And maybe take-out for dinner? And pick up some chocolates at Candinas and maybe I'll make flan for dessert. I've been looking at recipes...

That's a lot of initiative and ideas from someone who doesn't really plan out our days! Any one of these things might be found in our possible repertoire, but doing all, in one day, on his suggestion? Incredible.

The fact is, we are getting older and we find time to be precious. We are way more thoughtful toward the other than we were 17 years ago. We pay attention to feelings and sensitivities in new ways. Ed knows that I wont let October 20th slip by without some expression of gratitude for all that we now share. 

We make it special.

(the sheepshead, where he lived before I agreed to move to the farmhouse; these days it's mostly home to the cats)

(our cheepers)

Breakfast, with a time-release selfie. 17 years of breakfasts. And dinners. And all those hours in-between.

And now we join up with the guy at Brooklyn Wildlife Area who does much of the trail maintenance and prairie restoration in and around that particular segment of the Ice Age Trail. He's doing a fire break so that the DNR can burn the adjacent prairie. This means saplings and dead branches must be removed from a swath of land. We help in this. 

From there, it is but a short drive to the chocolate shop. We wont be sharing the chocolates until he and I are both back from our travels, but still, picking up chocolates here is quite the intimate act for us! Our box will be waiting for us.

Now onto Paul's Cafe for lunch. Oh, but it's been a long time!

As usual, he reads the paper, I read whatever I have on me. And in this too we find our intimacy. 

And now it's time for me to pick up Snowdrop.

Tired girl! We take it easy, concentrating on favorite books and lots of snacks.

Finally, much later, I pick up take-out Thai and Ed and I settle in for a meal on the couch. How I love these evenings where we eat, read, watch together, knowing that we come from such different starting points and yet, here we are -- completely at peace with the world we have created here at the farmette.

Happy Birthday, Ed. Happy Anniversary to us.

With so much love...

Wednesday

This morning, while the air outside crackled with cold, Ed and I went over the information he will be providing with the registry of the emergency beacons that he's taking on board the sailboat he'll be sailing (along with three other less experienced sailors) out into the Atlantic. He's not going until just before I return from my own travels (so in about ten days), but we need to coordinate everything now, while he and I still overlap here at the farmette.

I tell him that by the time they search and rescue his capsized or disintegrating boat, he'll be long gone from hypothermia in what must be chilly waters of a November Atlantic. How little I know. It's between 70F and 80F in the water along our route! -- he laughs at me. Well alright then. Just keep yourself afloat until someone finds you. With Ed, it's not hard to imagine that he would do just that. The guy's not prone to panic or hysteria.

But secretly, I do have to smile at him. He has long accused me of over-planning my travels. (Meaning I think about where I'm going to sleep and where I might eat before I leave.) But here he is, for weeks now preparing the navigational technologies for his own trip. Talk about advance planning! All to minimize unfortunate situations while en route to the southern seas. Well now, doesn't that sound familiar! Travel without the headache of constant stumbles and misfires. Yep, we all aim for that.

(Breakfast, with the last of the farmette nasturtium, lilies and phlox)

I do eventually go out to get most of those bulbs in, the chilly weather notwithstanding (35F, or 1.5C out there!) but it's getting tougher because I've blistered my digging hand from pounding that shovel into tough soil. Nevertheless, I have to do this. It's my last solid day for gardening work. 

And I get it done! All bulbs, 150 of them, jonquils and crocuses, in the ground! There will be one more shipment of bulbs coming in, but it will be small (just two dozen) and working them into the ground will have to wait until after I come back from my own trip.

More stuff to check off my to-do list: mow down the meadows. I'm never sure when the right moment for this is, but I think now, after the first deep frost, is as good as ever. So I get on the big mower tractor and plow through a season of tall grasses and now spent meadow flowers. I wish I had thought to wear gloves. My hands are freezing!

(the last of the tub blooms...)

And then I go down to my daughter's house where I spend a few hours with various members of the family: Snowdrop, Sandpiper, eventually their mom. (The kids had a flu shot after school and it made no sense to then bring Snowdrop to the farmhouse for a short while only.)

("hey Snowdrop! I have your brush!")

(oh, kids...)

I can't say that I'm rapidly shortening the list of things that MUST be done before the end of the week, but the big jobs I think are behind me. The farmette lands are more or less ready for their winter rest. (And I am too!)

At home -- reheated chili on the couch, with a candle, and a movie, and a shared bar of chocolate to end the day.

With love...

Tuesday

I'm never going to get anywhere (in my tres busy week, or in life in general!) if I let myself be carried away by such time-sucks as searching out interesting Advent calendars on the Internet.

For many years now, I took it upon myself to pick up pretty Advent calendars for the kids. Initially they were merely pictures, where you opened tabs to reveal a cute addition to a holiday scene. Perfectly satisfying and very evocative. But then one year I added the sweet element. So now the kids would open up little boxes and a chocolate or caramel would pop out. At least one set of parents shook their heads in dismay. A child does not need another source of sweet stuff around the holiday season where sugar seems to pour out of every nook and cranny from Halloween onwards. Still, they were so priceless, those little treats! And what's a grandma for, right??

Now there are five grandkids and at least four of them would enjoy an advent calendar. Well, one of the four would probably deconstruct the thing by the end of December 1st, but still, should I find something that would really tickle a child's sense of wonder? Should it be sweet or playful?

I plunge into a search of what's out there this year.

And I am somewhat shocked at how this market here has exploded. Every company appears to do an advent calendar! There are calendars for cats. There are calendars for whiskey lovers. Chocolatoholics have many choices! Playful legos abound. Cosmetics, candles, cookies, cooking utensils even (from William Sonoma)! All tucked into 24 little containers for kids and grownups to open on the days leading up to Christmas.

I did not come to any decision. There's too much out there. The beautiful winter village pictures that I used to pick up in French bookstores seem so... quaintly dated. The chocolate ones? Too sweet. The toys -- too much stuff. I am overwhelmed and the holiday season hasn't even begun.

*     *     *

It was cold at night. The water in the animal drinking dish underneath the crab apple froze (chickens and cats share in this so it must be filled) and so when I step outside this morning to feed the animals, I have some trepidation about plunging into planting bulbs.

(Our oldest cheeper Peach has gone through so many winters!)

Nonetheless, I give myself a stern lecture and before returning to the farmhouse, I put in 30 bulbs. I have maybe 100 more to go, but I call this progress.

As Ed and I review all that we have to do before we each take off on our successive trips this month, my guy shakes his head and says -- we are farmers. We have a list of farm projects and that list never ends and it includes a lot of planting and animal care.

I haven't been calling this place a "farmette" for nothing.

(Breakfast, where he decides to add more foods to the fruits and croissant I put out. He makes an egg salad, stuffs it into a tortilla and takes out my opened bottle of Prosecco for a few swigs. A champagne breakfast! -- he tells me. Who says Ed is predictable!)

*     *     *

I return to bulb planting in the early afternoon. I must. 30 more go in. The bag with bulbs grows lighter, but there are still too many in there. Uff!

*     *     *

In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. Yesterday she seemed to be fighting a bug, but I think she prevailed because today she is full of energy and enthusiasm. 

It is ballet day, but getting kids to their scheduled places is becoming a talent of mine and so I am feeling a bit smug about getting her to class on time. Until she says -- Gaga, can we get there like ten minutes earlier?  Say what??? Ah, she wants to have time to hang with a friend in class. I turn on my full speed ahead motor, but even so, I can only manage three minutes earlier.

*     *     *

And in the evening I make my daughter's chili, modified only to reflect our over abundant storehouse of farmette tomatoes.  An orange rhubarb candle glows, giving that hygge feeling to the farmhouse that I love so much.

With a smile and with love...

Monday

With the three Madison grandkids, I had three tries to get school drop-off to work perfectly smoothly. It was hugely more complicated because I was dealing with three kids, two different schools and three lunches and snacks to send with them. Here, in Chicago, I am charged with taking only one child to school and she takes school lunch so there's not much prep to worry about.

However.

It's Chicago! Her school borders on the downtown area. There is rush hour traffic. And the parents aren't out on vacation, they're stressing over their younger one's ears, so I don't need to add to their worries by getting any drop-off details wrong.

The solution? Go over the plan in your head, especially the routing, many times, and do this in the middle of the night so it stays fresh, and get up just after five to give yourself a whole hour before the girl herself has to be up. 

Talk about over-preparedness!

Still, as a result of excessive planning, it all goes smoothly.

Breakfast, brief play, all of it.

It is freezing cold outside (in Wisconsin we had a dusting of wet snow) so it's time to take out the winter jacket and winter cap.

Primrose is agreeable, tho she notices the utter silence in her house without little Juniper (or her parents) in it. I shake things up by pretending to be traveling granola. She laughs all the way to school.

And now it's time for me to drive back home. 

(With a pause for a Chicago morning coffee at La Colombe)

Turns out that Snowdrop has another school-free day (who knows why) and so she (and working parents) is waiting for me to get back to the farmhouse so that she can come over for a visit. I tell her that can happen as soon as I get home, but only if can plant bulbs in the early evening. Those bulbs HAVE to go in today and tomorrow!

But in the end, I put in zero bulbs. The wind is blustery and the occasional snow squalls are enough to send you inside. 

Okay then, tomorrow for sure! In the mean time, she and I do our read-play-eat routine in the comfort of the warm farmhouse.

And so it's a full day. Beautiful in all ways, though as always, it's hard to leave behind the Chicago bunch. Primrose had asked if after I'm with Snowdrop today, I could come back and do a pick-up there, back in Chicago. She wasn't totally serious, but there was a wistfulness in hearing her muse like this, certainly on my part. It's not easy to leave those you love, even for short periods of time.

Still, I have before me a few days with Ed (before we go off on our own adventures later in the month) and there's no doubt that this is wonderful. I'm not allowed popcorn yet, but we have our shared time in the evenings and it, too, is priceless.

With so much love....

in Chicago

I always eat so well when I come to this city! This visit is no different.

Of course, I relish my breakfasts here with Primrose. Or, like today, with the whole gang. We always have granola with yogurt and fruits.

But it goes way beyond that. For instance, after a morning of play, the four of us go out for brunch. Wait, did someone say morning play? Who is playing and what are the fav games?

Let's look. (Dress up!)

Well that seems lively! So, what about brunch? Where to? A family favorite: Middle Brow. It's one neighborhood over. But we are game for a brisk walk. About 45 minutes each way. Such a beautiful fall day!

The food here is so delicious -- breads, salads, eggs, all of it -- that it calls for a small beer, or in my case, a beer touched with an aperitivo. I'd never had that before! 

The girls love their pizza, the grownup girls are thrilled with their brunch dishes. Totally thrilled.

We walk back.

We nap. Well, kids do and grownups drink coffee to keep from napping.

And when everyone is awake and aware, we take out paints (again, a general "we").

And now we have another task: trying on the costumes for Halloween. Primrose very much wanted to be Maid Marian form an older Robin Hood movie she'd seen (where the characters were actually foxes, playing out the roles of the storybook characters). That called for giving Juniper the part of a foxy Robin Hood. Here they are!

And now it's getting late.  Sunday evening asks of us that we get ready for the week ahead.  Baths, a review of schedules, calm moments before bedtime. Dinner, with a plate of charcuterie and dishes of pasta.

And so ends a beautiful weekend. 

A few more hours with my daughter and then my son-in-law is home and we put aside more visiting because it's going to be a very early morning for all of us. Juniper is to have an ear procedure in predawn hours and I'm to get Primrose up and off to school. Then home to the farmhouse, to pick up another granddaughter at her school!

But all that's tomorrow. Tonight I go to sleep with that deep satisfaction of having behind me a set of beautiful, delicious days. 

With so much love...

to Chicago

And I'm off to Chicago again. Early. Though not so early that I haven't the time to take care of these chicks.

We had a frost (can you tell?), but just barely. The hose is still connected and I take a moment to water yesterday's plantings. No rain in the forecast. They need water to get those roots to do their thing.

(fall colors)

And I give Ed a haircut. He needs one. And of course, we have breakfast.

But then it's time to pack up the car and head to the big city.

My daughter's husband is out of town and she could use a hand. Or two. And it's a grand opportunity to spend more time with the kids and their mom.

(just back from ballet class)

(Primrose loves to play dress up; today she got Juniper, who is ten months old today, to go along.)

It's a cool day, but brilliant nonetheless and I take Primrose out with me for a walk. (She takes her new beloved possession -- a lunchbox.)

To the neighborhood grocery store.

At home again: playing "hibernating bears."

My daughter is making dinner tonight -- chili. Everyone has their own special chili recipe and I'm curious how my daughter's is spiced and prepared. Truly, it is delicious!

Juniper agrees. She has seconds! So do I.

The littlest one goes to sleep, us three older guys stay up to eat ice cream and blackberries over what has to be one of our favorite movies (Coco). And then Primrose is off to bed and it's just me and my big girl. We talk about the kids, yes, of course, but also about past trips taken, just the two of us, and future ones still ahead of us, and it just feels so good to be in the warmth of this household sight now!

With so much love...