Athens!

You have to find pleasure in the journey, no matter how cramped, demanding, and unspectacular it seems. Otherwise, you'll have handed over a day at each end to tedium. Or worse.

(delightful dinner in Detroit)

(journaling on flight to Paris)

(the final stretch to Athens)

And a few minutes later, we are in Athens.

Okay, it took more than a few minutes. But still, it was a a trip without major snafus and that, of course, is splendid. Paris may be in chaos right now, but our French flight from there to Athens was on time and we landed in the early afternoon to beautiful sunshine in Greece. Tired, yes, of course, but deeply grateful that the very long trip is behind us.

Now let's get a ride into the city and to our hotel.

I should note that choosing a hotel in Athens for Snowdrop and me was hard! In my mind, the ideal place would be right smack in the center of things: close to Syntagma Square, close to the Plaka neighborhood, close to the Acropolis. It would have a view! And people would not write nasty comments concerning its maintenance, noise, or datedness. 

There was a time where I cared only about "clean." Everything else was manageable. But the older I get, the harder I work at finding places that will make me happy. Snowdrop wont care, but I will. So -- clean, well positioned, relatively quiet. And, well, pleasant to return to at the end of a long day.

And affordable.

Only one place checked nearly all the boxes for me -- the Electra Metropolis. (It has a rooftop pool which would have made it an astonishingly good choice, had it been open.)  Let's start with the view. If you're coming to Athens for the Acropolis then you may as well have your fill of the Acropolis. (Though I'm putting off an official visit up that hill until Monday.)

True, someone would be happy just to crash now with a screen running one show after the next, but hey, we did not travel this far for that! (Nonetheless, a brief rest is certainly in order.)

But pretty soon I get us freshened up and I push us out the door. (Our balcony view toward the city...)

In truth, there isn't a lot that you can do on the day of arrival. It's late in the afternoon for us and we are tired. When you dont sleep well on a plane (and who does!), your head has a bit of a buzz, your eyes are glazed, your pace drags. 

As luck would have it though, we have the city's best gelato shop just across the street. A perfect place to revive a little.

(the gelato ladies...)

Snowdrop always orders chocolate. The richer and darker the better. I settle for Sicilian pistachio. Hey, it's an island in the Mediterranean so it's fitting, no? 

Somewhat fortified, I spin us around toward Plaka, the neighborhood with the largest concentration of older homes, tavernas, shops. This place:

I pick up one gift for one child back home and honestly, this is all we're good for. 

Another quick rest and it's supper time. (Greece is typically 8 hours ahead of Wisconsin, but they're just doing the European Spring Forward tonight so at the moment they're 7 hours ahead, and tomorrow they'll add an hour, though by the end of the week we'll be in Western Europe so we'll again subtract an hour. Are you confused yet??

I booked a dinner at Ovio, which possibly is too big of a pander to my traveling companion's palate (it's a pizza and past place), but hey, she's been through a lot and she is such a good sport about it all (shed a tear only once, when the Security people took away her toothpaste at CDG airport; I thought it might pass unnoticed and it did in Madison, but in Pairs they ditched it. I told her they gave it to those in need which only slightly cheered her up) that I haven't the heart to push a new cuisine on her the first night. Besides, Ovio is just two minutes from our hotel. 

The sweet girl must have been starving: she asked for both pizza and pasta and she ate them up with gusto.

At the hotel, it is sooooo past everyone's bedtime. Well, depending on what clock you follow. I read her a book on Greek history (a younger person's version of it) and she is, of course, chatting and throwing in her observations and correcting my pronunciation, while my heavy eye lids threaten to slam down into a permanent shut position.

And now comes the moment when you hope so much that you and your sleeping companion will rest well. It's not a given the first night. Jet lag can kick in at 3 and keep you up for hours. But we can try! With the twinkle of lights shining onto the Acropolis to make it that much more beautiful for her, for me.

With love...

to Athens

And so begins our spring break adventure. I hear much of America is packing up to go places this year. We are no different! But where to? 

Last year, when she was 7, I took the plunge of taking Snowdrop for the first time alone with me to Europe. She has been begging to go on a trip far away again this year. Such travel is not easy: it requires patience and stamina. And of course, she has just me for company. Despite this, she wants to do it!

I thought hard about where I could take her. Covid is still a lurking issue of course. But honestly, there are plenty of other things to think about. The passage of time: that's probably my key consideration. It's funny how it works for you and against you. It cures you of some worries even as it raises new ones, so that with every year, travel with Snowdrop is easier for me -- if things go berserk, she is more capable of managing a pivot. But in some ways, it becomes harder: she ages, but so do I. Rushing with loaded suitcases, moving around with a faulty knee, keeping my energy level up there to match hers, at the same time that I need my hours to keep Ocean updated (yes, I know, that is my choice, but it is one I make) -- all this makes for interesting twists and turns ahead!

So where do we go? Well, I want to take her to a place she is not likely to visit soon (because it's far, and her brothers are too young for it, and her parents may have other priorities). One which will not be just resort type fun, but instead -- educational! Since she is an avid reader of Greek mythology and knows the gods and myths better than I ever did, the answer is almost too simple: I'll take her to Greece.

I have nothing but fond thoughts about that country: I traveled there for the first time with my sister -- two young women, well, barely that, more like girls, getting off the boat in Mykonos at a time when it was little more than an island of fishing families, following a village boy from the pier to his mother's house where we found a room. I traveled again with my parents, and then again, many times with Ed as we hopped between the less touristy islands off the shores of Turkey. Indeed, my very last trip with Ed included a stop in Kos, in Greece. It's where he told me he was not going to travel anymore. Very dramatic. And still, I have such terrific memories of all my ramblings there. So Greece it is. Not any of the islands -- we dont have loads of time and most of the now tourist-focused islands are closed down until at least April. But Athens and a bit of the sea shore should be just great (Greece does not make sense without a look out at the Aegean Sea).

Athens. A sprawling city of over 3 million. But it doesn't feel crazy big, probably because there are no skyscrapers. Athens has laws restricting the height of buildings and the tallest structure, standing at 28 floors, is that tall only because in the period of its construction (early 70s), these laws were not strictly enforced. Only three other buildings are even close to that height. In Athens, your eyes can only turn to the towering Parthenon temple that stands at the highest point of the Acropolis.

More on that later. Let's get back to basics!

I have a rushed morning at the farmette.

(Unie, digging up my flower bed: a springtime ritual!)

And a somewhat more relaxed breakfast with Ed.

(Santorini candle: not going there, but still, I'm smelling the flower of a Greek fig)

(someone whom I'll miss very much; always hard to leave beloveds behind)

And then it's just a question of getting those pre-travel routines tidied up. Finish the packing, try to remember stuff I may have forgotten. It's complicated when traveling with a young one. For instance, I dont typically travel with a thermometer, liquid Motrin, real books (rather than just my kindle), face masks in two sizes, and snack bars. And, too, we're going to be in two weather categories: warm and then not so warm. Can I keep it light enough so that I wont need to send my bag through?  I must! It is especially important since we are traveling through Paris airport and that country is currently in a chaos of strikes and work disruptions. If a suitcase is to be lost, this month is the month for it.

Okay, packed.  Ready to go.

We meet up at the airport just after the noon hour. To Detroit first, then to Paris, and from there, we'll cross the continent to its southeastern tip -- in Athens.

So far so good. No bad weather, no delays. Yet. Wish us luck!

With love...

Thursday

Spring break for local schools starts tomorrow. Isn't that a fine time to scoop up the oldest one of the grandkids  (I'll leave the scooping of the younger ones to the parents who are more sprightly and capable of scooping up small fry) and take her on an adventure? Yes it is. 

Knowing this much, you'll have figured out my whole day, because when you charge yourself with creating a week of solid excitement for an 8-year old, you have to prepare for it. At least I do! None of this spur of the moment deliberation. Preparing in advance (I have learned) is key to a smoother journey. Less time wasted, more options realized.

And so, on this spring day, I get very busy, sifting and winnowing, deciding what to pack. (This is a much different process than just packing/preparing for a solo journey. Much different!)

Outside, there is snow. Not unusual: our last freeze date is around May 15th. That means that any night before that date can bring down a snow cover. It will melt. We are unbothered.

(Speak for yourself, say the hens!)

Breakfast, with two cats staring out, wondering if they got their calendar dates mixed up.

And then I get to work, keeping very busy until it's time to pick up Snowdrop.

(on my way, I pass these guys; note how quickly the snow has melted)

She is here after school...

(soooo excited!)

.... but not for terribly long because one job for us is to pack up her little suitcase at her house. We'll be leaving tomorrow right around lunchtime (she'll spend the morning in school) and I want everything to be neatly in place by then.

(Hey Sparrow, you're Assistant Parent for next week!)

(Hey Sandpiper, go easy on your parents! No more screwdrivers up your nose!)

And now I am back at the farmhouse. Last night I cooked up a pot of chili for Ed. Tonight though, I take greater care, baking up some fish, fussing with the veggies and salads.  And enjoying, albeit wistfully, my evening with him on the couch. We exchange our usuals: why do you have to go? why dont you want to go? Neither of us wants an answer. These are statements of a simple truth: I travel, he does not. He sails, I do not. And still, our moments together, here at the faremtte, are without question exquisite. So be it.

Must get some rest! Tomorrow is a very busy day!

With love...

Wednesday

Things are speeding up. The next six weeks, maybe eight weeks promise to be wild, even as Ed and I have just talked about how much we've come to love a slower pace. The trick is to alternate: a few weeks of chaos followed by maybe a month or so of calm. Of course, you can't always schedule your crazies. You just have to learn to enjoy them. And I do enjoy them. (Then I crash!)

This morning there is a threat of rain. Nonetheless, the chickens are out, including rusty, ancient Peach, who ventures out of hiding for the first time in weeks! (Then she gets stuck and I have to carry her back to the barn.)

Ed and I eat breakfast...

And then he asks me for help with his tree branch cutting project. And I do help him. We saw away at the high limb (with a loooong rope that has a saw in the middle) and we finally bring the sucker down. How long did it take? A week of work? More? Shush!

(plump flower buds, already!)

I am up to my neck with projects that absolutely positively have to be completed in the next two days and the rest of the morning is spent on those. All the way until it is time to swing by one more appointment that I have before picking up Snowdrop.

During this medical visit where we chat about all sorts of things past present and future, the topic of travel with grandchildren comes up. There is a nurse practitioner-in-training who sits in, taking notes. She's the one who asks me (as I chat about travel as a senior, especially travel with a child as a senior) -- at what age do you think it's good to take a child to, say, Europe? (She obviously is a mother of a potential candidate for such a trip.)

What a loaded question! I can tell you all sides of this dilemma, because I have surely experienced all sides -- from traveling with the young family when Snowdrop, then Sparrow were just babes, to the joy of having your young one come to an age where she can be distracted, nay, dazzled by videos, making for an overseas flight where you can relax.) 

Since this medic in training was clearly hungry for details, I told her that of course, the personality of the child helps you imagine what trip is least stressful for you and most educational for her or him. Snowdrop with each passing month has proven herself to be more adaptable to the stress of "when things go wrong." But she can be a picky eater and I reflect on that a bit. "She doesn't like it when different foods run into each other..." I tell the spellbound medical person.

Oh, no problem in our house! I'm used to that! My husband is the same way!

Wait, what?? He never grew out of it?? Damn! That's discouraging!

And then I do pick up the girl under consideration and bring her to the farmhouse.

We have a bit more car time today for various irrelevant and confusing reasons. I talk to her about the article I read in the NYTimes about what kids (ages 11-14) want adults to know about their thoughts, feelings, and such. I ask her the questions that the author had asked a focus group of twelve kids. 

The upside -- she definitely likes being a kid and does not wish for a fast track to adulthood (this is true for most of the kids interviewed for the piece as well). The sad moment came when I asked how she felt about security lockdowns in school.

She had had such a lockdown just yesterday. Indeed, when I came to pick her up, the whole school was eerily closed off. No kids, no staff in or around. My daughter texted me that they were on lockdown because of some "incident" nearby. 

I questioned Snowdrop about it immediately after she was let out and she seemed then to be just fine, brushing it of as one of those things. But then she went to Girl Scouts and the kids started in on the topic and she admitted today that after that meeting, she felt scared. 

Why? I asked.

Because they talked about killing people and guns.

Yeah. Tell me about it...

In the evening I cook up a huge pot of chili. For Ed, for next week, when I will be away.

With love...

Tuesday

Second day of spring! Can you tell?

Well alright. There isn't that much evidence of it yet. Farmette crocuses wont bloom until early April and the first daffodil wont open up until around my birthday (two thirds into the month). For now, I admire the green tips! They are everywhere!

Breakfast. With Ed and with Dance.

The rest of the morning is spent on finessing plans for spring break. They are complicated! And, too, Ed and I sneak in a brisk walk at noon, and I swing on the monkey bars, and Ed tries to swing as well, only he is too tall, and so he has a ready excuse to give up on that.

In the afternoon a very excited Snowdrop gets in the car after school, telling me that, of all things, there is a school-wide talent show in a few weeks and though it was too late to sign up, guess what, her teacher made an exception and so yes, she's in the program!

What's your talent? -- I ask, realizing that it sounds a bit like a put down and I surely do not intend that. The girl has many talents, but what might she want to display on a stage?

Violin of course! 

And again I rack my brain trying to remember if I'd ever heard her play and yes, I did, once, on her very first recital where she played the piece she has been working on for a long time because yes, it takes a while to move on when you're full of enthusiasm for your lesson, but do not have the time to practice. 

Still, she does love her instrument. And so what that it's a simple ditty! This is an elementary school talent show, grades K - 4. How many people are playing Mozart in that age range? Oh, yes, well Mozart himself, but he is no longer with us so I think we are safe.

Ballet today. Hair done. Next, the rest of it.

On the ride to dance class she spells out all the instruments she'd like to learn to play. Flute. Piano. Too, she'd like to sing. And clarinet, because her dad was a clarinetist. I remind her of the book we read about a girl who was overcommitted. Maybe I can wait on the flute, she speculated.

It's funny about kids -- their choices are based on a sense of satisfaction they get from doing a certain activity, no? And yet, much as I saw great leanings toward music in both my daughters, I'd never recognized this yearning to do real music in Snowdrop. This means nothing of course. I'm just the grandmother and we spend so much time on stories -- read, told, you name it -- that I can hardly be surprised that there isn't time for art or music or any of it, not while she is at the farmhouse anyway. But, a child's enthusiasm for learning and performing music can only be a good thing and so I'm sure I'll be in the audience along with her family, enjoying an April evening of... elementary school talent.

(Watching her dance through a one way viewing window that obviously isn't so "one way")

In the evening she has Girl Scouts, which, too, she loves. Really loves. Cookie sales went well because grandparents are avid supporters of the youthful entrepreneurial spirit. She is on a Brownie roll!

At home, I reheat a leftover frittata and mull over the way life takes us in so many unpredictable directions. And that's a good thing, don't you think?

March 20th

Hi spring, favorite season of mine (I know, I know -- no favorites allowed!). A season of changes, nearly all of them leading to a more beautiful planet. 

But it needs a little help from us! When Ed asks for assistance in his tree branch cutting project (still working on that one damn branch), I tell him I may be able to fit it in, but it's not a given. 

Immediately after feeding the animals...

And eating our oatmeal and fruit...

I make a list of this week's work. It is not a short list. At the top: putting seeds into those recycled dixie cups we use to germinate tomatoes and this year, too, to give a head start to some of my annuals. 

I look at all my beautiful packets of sees... Well now, here's a problem: they all have different planting dates. two to three weeks before last frost. Four weeks before last frost. Five to seven weeks before last frost. Well that's confusing! I put the flowers aside and we concentrate on the tomatoes, which only have two different sowing dates -- eight to eleven weeks before last frost, and five to six weeks before last frost. 

Okay, we're on it!

And we are so foxy and nimble that we do find time to both attend to sawing the high limb down from the tree (well, we get some of it!) and I have time for a walk, and to hang down from the monkey bars. 

Spring forward indeed!

I pick up Snowdrop at school and I comment on this glorious next season which is now before us. She, of course, has her own thoughts on it: yesterday was the last day of my favorite season, she tells me glumly.

One person's pleasure...

(trying out her own Girl Scout Cookies: the shortbread)

(getting Ed to sample the mint GS cookies...)

(within seconds, she's there wanting to move art around on his computer)

Our routines are a bit different today. The parents have some late work commitments and so Snowdrop and I pick up her brothers at their school together.

Yes, literally "pick them up."

It's rare that I have all three in the car at the same time and I note how the energy level changes when they come together. Suddenly there are frogs, magic persons and dragons. Stories unfold, sounds, some frightening, some delightful float from the far corners of the car. 

And now they are home and I leave them in the care of a sitter as I drive back to the farmhouse thinking about, well, spring. It's a calendar date of course and today could have been no better or perhaps even worse than the day before. But we were lucky: the temps climbed to near 50f (10c). And we have the promise that this is the trend. That the browns will gently take in the greens and small pinkie tips of color will explode into something far richer. 

It's a good time to be here, in south-central Wisconsin. A real magnificent time indeed.

 

energetic

I was up and out like a firecracker. No cats in the house? Great. Change torn sheet on bed. (Would you believe it -- we have only one, and on laundry day I wash it in the morning to have it ready by evening. Not surprisingly, it wore it out!) Hmmm. Dusty underneath the bed. Vacuum. It's Ed's job, but he's busy swinging saws at a tree limb. (You cannot say that Ed lacks patience, nor perseverance!) Change torn blanket on couch (same thing: one cover to protect the couch; once it gets thread bare, it's time to replace it). Change torn bathroom mats (ditto: 18 years of overuse). Feed the animals.

Why the energetic movement? Oh, it's the last day of winter and the sun is out and though it's still nippy,  it is one hell of a gorgeous day. Makes you want to get things done!

Breakfast: oatmeal for him, almond croissant for me. I notice that Ed is getting beyond shaggy.

Time for a haircut and beard trim. I take out my shears.

Back to work, this time outside. The new orchard trees need pruning. Today. Ed does help me with this. I'm too short to do most of what needs to be done. 

As we work on trimming, I have to shake my head at the uniqueness of this grove of fruit trees. The cherries outperform everything else. The pears in some years are great. Last year they were almost nonexistent. The apple trees? Some produce apples, but they are not good apples. The plums? We're six years into the project and I have yet to see a single plum. Still, it's a lovely little grove and the pollinators like the spring blooms. We are hoping that the new peach grove by the barn will give us a better yield. (We've been very lucky with peach production at the farmette!)

Prune, snip, clear. But not for terribly long. Ed noted that each year, the work bursts are shorter and the rests that follow are longer. Time for a rest!

In the evening, the young family is here for supper. 

It'll be a month before we all sit around the kitchen table again. We all have loaded Sundays coming up. In this month, the landscape will be transformed, of that I am sure. Good bye, winter -- you've been decent to us here, in south-central Wisconsin this year. Time for you to take a pause now. Tomorrow we come into spring.

beneath the surface

Just a cold, very cold March Saturday. Likely the coldest day we'll have between now and, say, November. So, really cold.

I go straight from the shower to feed the animals in the barn. My hair freezes instantly.

Very cold. 

Still, I had put in an order at Madison Sourdough, so I get in my car, regretting that I'm wearing only a hoodie and that my mittens are inside the farmhouse. Lake Monona is mostly thawed, but the nigh freeze has put some ice back on at least part of the waters' surface.

(out the car window)

A warm bakery is like a slice of heaven.

And then we eat breakfast. I tell Ed that wild horses wouldn't pull me out again today. 

He is a little disappointed in both the cold and the wind. Yesterday, Amazon delivered his purchase of a drone ($26). Last night he drove us all (meaning me and the cats) nuts by practicing navigation inside the farmhouse. He has this idea that he can use it to send a fish line over the high limb of the tree where the saw is stuck. Eventually he can feed a rope along with the fish line and pull on that to bring the branch down. But he cant do any of it on a cold windy day.

If you think this is a bit of a wild idea, let me assure you that Ed has a lot of ideas and they run the range from designing solutions around real or imagined problems to implementing strategies for effective ... well, whatever! 

Perhaps it is unfair that in Ocean, I focus on the daily silliness that really forms so much of our daily life together. I bypass the more serious work that takes place here. For example, right now, Ed has (basically singlehandedly) taken on the redesign of the precision metal milling machine manufactured by the company that he and his former partner founded. If his ideas succeed, such machines would enter a whole novel level of production capabilities. He may even strike a few punches at the one competitor in the market place -- a company that PBS accused last week of continuing to do machining business in Russia, despite the war waged by Putin against the Ukraine. I don't write about this stuff because it's his story and one I'm likely to get wrong in the details (despite his patient explanations, I will never fully grasp the language of machine design). Besides, it's more fun to describe the cinnamon rolls we share for breakfast. Still, beneath that very scary bearded countenance, there rests a very sweet and brilliant soul.

That sweet person nudges us to go out and walk, but I stand firm. It is just too cold.

(even the birds look like they're shivering, which, believe me, is very hard to capture in a photo)

I hunker down to my reading and browsing until guilt overtakes me. 

Fine, I'll walk.

Twenty minutes later I am at home again. I mean, winters here are significantly colder than what we have here today, but I'm done with winter and I stored away my warmest jacket. I'm not impatient with the slow crawl toward spring, I'm just not going to pretend walking with an arctic wind in my face is fun anymore. Save it til November!

In the evening I have to make a frittata. It's the only dish I prepare that uses up almost a carton-ful of eggs and our girls are producing like possessed. Why we signed up for another hen come June is a real puzzler -- I guess we really did expect to lose one this winter! Thankfully, once the outdoor farmers market resumes (in four weeks -- can you believe it!), we'll start trading eggs for cheese again.

In the meantime, out come the spinach, the mushrooms, the corn, the cheese, and... the eggs.

Tomorrow, we'll cross the freezing mark into spring like territory once more. Each day brings us a little closer to the splendid growing season.