Monday

We are at fifteen degrees above a February 12th average. Okay, that is not to be celebrated. The irrefutable trend is worrisome. So I am going to pass on lauding the warm beauty of this winter day. But the sky! Can rhapsodize about what is actually normal for south-central Wisconsin? That beautiful cornflower blue, February sky! We have it today and it absolutely warms the spirit.

(Looking out the window just before my walk to feed the animals...)

Breakfast would have been lovely. Leftover szarlotka, with fruit and a milky coffee, and with Ed, and without the cats...

... except that I was on the phone for the duration. On a long airline hold. Because I wanted to champion a consumer right!  The airlines have this habit of posting misleading pricing information when you book online and I was going to right this grave injustice. I was tired of their marketing buffoonery!

I got nowhere, the grave injustice prevails, and I wasted two hours on speaking to powerless representatives. I'm sure the sales and marketing department does not accept feisty consumer calls.

In midmorning, I left to get my hair cut -- another indoor activity! Well who knew today would be so pretty?! But Ed was there waiting when I got back (trained to notice my hair changes, he shouted out "it looks great" before I even entered the room). He proposed a bike ride. 

The one thing you dont want to do after a haircut is to strap a helmet on top of your hair and flatten all that nifty work of the stylist, but still, that sunshine and a coaxing from Ed are a powerful force to reckon with so we did go and it was simply sublime.

Snowdrop is here on Monday's after school.

 

 

It's "wear a hat to school" for the kids today! (School spirit week always happens this month, to get the kids excited about life, despite the cold, the 100 days left in the academic year, despite it being February, darn it!)

(by the time she reaches the farmhouse, all hats are off!)

She and I started in on a new book today and I'm trying to give it a good run, even though my heart still belongs to the previous set. Nonetheless, Snowdrop tends to see the good in her world, so we're sticking with it. 

(How positive is her outlook on the everyday? Here's an example -- we pass the expo center every evening on the way to the drop-off point. There's always a billboard announcing the next few expos. Today she tells me -- look! this weekend it's the fishing show! We should go! I glance at her smiling face. Really? I ask. Do any of us fish? No, but it sounds exciting!

Evening. I didn't grocery shop and we're out of almost everything. This calls for making a very pared down veggie soup with very few veggies in it. It's that or eggs!

Tomorrow, I'll get it together. Today -- well, I'm still catching up!

with love...

Sunday

As someone who left her home country to live elsewhere and who traveled back and forth between groups of people I love all my life, you'd think I'd be all too familiar and even comfortable with the feeling of separation. And I was. I never gave it much thought in my young adult years. Until my kids went off to college. That was the first time I understood that a departure could also be a temporal shift, whereby my child now enmeshes herself in a life away from home. It's a good thing, thrilling even to see your little one set out on her own independent path. But at the same time, you feel that emptiness, as you yourself have to adjust to a life without the everyday mix of events, upsets and delights that were yours in the years when they were growing up at your side.

And every time that departed child would come home, or I would go visit her, there would be afterwards that separation and emptiness again. It never lasts, but it is always there. Still today, when I leave my younger daughter after placing myself in her household for a day, sometimes several days, I feel the emptiness taking hold as I drive off.

Since she is happy, I am not sad to be leaving her. Not at all. I know how her day will proceed, I know what role her husband and kids will play. Still, once again I need to adjust to not being part of the everyday in the way that I would be, were she here, just a few blocks up the road, or like my older girl -- a short drive away.

*     *     *

The morning in Chicago was lovely. We ate our traditional breakfast of oatmeal and fruits and then I volunteered to give Juniper (age 2) her first haircut. 

 (before)

 

 

Big day for her! She didn't flinch, absorbed as she was in Frozen on a tablet.

(My assistant)

Afterwards,  Primrose went for her swimming lesson with dad, mom baked, and I took Juniper out for a walk to Mindy's bakery. 

 

 

 

(a bit of sunshine to warm us up a little!)

 

 

She loves the croissants there and I love... well, pretty much everything.

Not that we need more baked goods at home. I am hauling back a szarlotka (apple cake) from the Polish bakery, and, too, some fried faworki with powdered sugar. Oh well. We'll stuff our faces this week, that's for sure.

(She gets to eat her croissant on our walk home.)

 

Hey, Primrose is back from swimming! Time moves forward so quickly on these Chicago Sunday mornings. Very soon, it's time for brunch -- at the Lonesome Rose. A favorite of ours. The kids love their soft shell tacos, us bigger guys? Burritos and bowls. All good!

From there, a short walk to pick up some coffee. 

 

 

 

Primrose likes to speed up ahead with me. As if her sister could keep up! 

 

(Waving)

 

 

And now it's time for me to head back to Wisconsin. Empty, but happy. 

*     *     *

I have very little free time today, as the Madison young family is at the farmhouse for dinner tonight. I'd have called it off -- it's all a tad rushed -- but the next couple of Sundays are slated to be without the family dinners so I stuck with it. And I'm glad. These kids are always a bunch of joyous energy and, too, it's good to have a moment to catch up with my older girl. She has been so busy with work that we've resorted to quick and dirty texts and nothing more in the past few weeks. Tonight at least we can take a moment to focus on something other than work and schedules and coordinating drop offs and pickups.

(She and I talk. The rest? Who knew that they were Super Bowl fans!)

(Dinner)

For dessert? Szarlotka (apple cake) and faworki (fried twists). Very much liked by those who dared to try them!

*     *     *

And then there is patient Ed. Ready to resume our couch time. It's very late by the time I can actually sit down and put my feet up. Nonetheless it's special, in the way that every evening spent with him is special. Ours and only ours. To be loved, in all its simplicity and calm.

with so much love...

Saturday

It's 2024, my youngest girl has had her birthday (a couple of weeks ago) and I still haven't seen her, haven't celebrated properly, haven't spent time with the grandkids in Chicago. Time, therefore, to head south.

After a very quick trot to the barn and an even speedier breakfast.

(thank you, Ed, for waking up and coming down...)

(To Chicago then!)

I have an errand to run before I arrive at the younger family's home -- a stop at Delightful Pastries, in a northwest corner of the city.

This is the bakery that sells authentic paczki. The traditional Polish doughnut. Loved and eaten by most Poles on Fat Tuesday. (Make that Fat Thrusday; remember, Poles like to feast a few days earlier!)

So many Polish baked goods! I mean, I haven't seen good faworki or a Polish apple cake in a long time. And of course, the paczki.

(The staff, all Polish, putting out nalesniki. Cheese stuffed blintzes. Just like my grandma's!)

I pick up the paczki and turn toward my daughter's home. It's been just a little over a month since I saw the two Chicago girls. 

 

 

 

That's over a month's worth of growth and changes. So much to catch up on!

("can we keep on dancing?)

(always the selfie!)

(lunch, followed by paczki)

And let's not forget my daughter's birthday celebration. 

 (This particular present is not from me, but it was fun to watch her unwrap it...)

 

 

We all go out to dinner at Antico -- a place she took me to 13 years ago, when I visited her then in her small apartment in the city. Two weeks later I moved to the farmhouse. Three years later she married, a couple more and the girls were born.

Time: it's a beautiful thing, really. No, it doesn't stand still. You don't run on repeat. You keep adding stuff to your wealth of experiences, you grow. 

(Walking home...)

Oh, it's good to see these faces again! Happy paczki day, happy Saturday, happy New Year, happy birthday indeed! 

Friday

Ten minutes of sunshine this morning, duly recorded, before it all disappeared on us.

(Last night's storms brought tornadoes just south of us. First ones ever recorded in February in Wisconsin.)

At breakfast, we talked about cats and gardens. I'll spare you the cat discussion. Suffice it to say it orbited around this cat.

About gardens: there's a garden expo today at the Expo Center not too far from us. Ed has been clamoring to go, possibly because some donation he made at some point to some environmental something or other netted him two free entrance tickets for it. I waffled. We'd gone before. A lot of displays, selling ideas that do not have anything to do with what we grow or cultivate or install here, at the farmette. And educational presentations that we'd heard before -- there, or on YouTube. 

You know who goes to this on a Friday afternoon? Old people with time on their hands who like nick-nacks and ornaments and space to walk indoors on a cold day.

Gorgeous, we are old people. We'll fit right in. 

Ed rarely pushes for us to go somewhere and so finally I agreed.

The expo opened at noon today, so I had plenty of time to first work on my school poster boards, but then we had very little time to spend at the Expo, since I have to scoot off to pick up the kids in the very early afternoon. But even "very little time" was too much. We were done in forty minutes flat. Still, there is always the occasional stall that will grab your attention and there was one such stall today at the Expo. These guys:

Straight from Holland. They come to this country to do the garden expos. And they sell Dutch bulbs, of lilies (true lilies) and allium and something I'd never seen before -- tubers of flowering ferns. We bought some from this Dutch speaking duo! I've gotten to really like the true lilies in my garden. They fill tight spaces with robust blooms that last. No snipping required! (At least not on a daily basis.)

Too, I see that there is a Wisconsin Day Lily Society. Were I looking for meetings to go to, I'd join! (Though the woman at the table said some people come only for the treats that they serve. Never mind then.)

In the end it was a very pleasant escapade, reminding you of what lies ahead, in just a couple of months.

 

The kids today? Great. Bouncy. 

 

 

 

We finish a book. A few minutes of play. With toys.  A rare thing for the girl these days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I then shuffle them through their Friday routines, happy to get them to where they needed to be this afternoon on time. Violin. Ballet. Done!

 

Friday evening. I cook up an impulse buy -- pierogi. Of all Polish foods, this is not one I especially miss,  but still, it feels rather nostalgic to go back to these very Polish dumplings. Starchy, tasty. Perfect for the end of the week.

On goes the movie. Chocolates, anyone?

Thursday

I cannot emphasize enough how weird the weather is today. As warm as on an early May morning. With predicted thunderstorms. Steamy, calm at the outset. And then come the winds. Oh the winds!

Morning walk: barely need a hoodie.

Breakfast: Ed is in a hurry to get to his machining project.

And after? I want to beat the storms, the wind, the weirdness out there, so I hop on my bike and take a spin out along the rural roads.

 

I do not beat the wind. I do not beat that rain either. On the upside -- I made it home before any rumble of an approaching storm. That came later. Still, 54F (12C)? On February 8th? In Wisconsin? Crazy...

When I picked up the kids, it was windy still, but the sun came out. 

And it was lovely. And at the farmhouse, we read and didn't pay attention to anything outside. Then, just as I dropped them off at the pick-up point, the sky darkened. Indeed, the day turned into night within minutes. And it thundered and poured and back home the cats freaked out and the chickens hid. Cant blame them. It was beyond weird.

Ed fell asleep early tonight. Exhausting day for him. For the chickens. For the cats.

with love...

Wednesday

Much of the morning was devoted to operating a glue gun and trying out different methods of adhering things to a poster board. In other words, I'm working on an elementary school presentation that will take place toward the end of the month. 

The question you have to ask yourself with these events is -- what does an average kid, somewhere between the ages of 5 and 12 want to hear or see in your presentation? Therein lies the problem: the age range is huge. A five year old may get excited about dinosaurs or fairies. A twelve year old? Probably neither. 

I used to do big time projects in my own kids' elementary school. I put together a newspaper each semester with stories written by kids at all grade levels. That was a huge enterprise, especially since in those days, you had to cut and paste stories before issuing newsprint. Tedious work! And even more tedious? Soliciting stories, editing content -- all of it took more time than I had, but somehow I packed it in for several years running. So doing small presentations and gluing things to a poster board would seem easy peasy lemon squeezy by comparison. And yet, I've been compiling ideas (and poster boards) for days now and I'm not even half done.

After another misty and very uninteresting walk to the barn... (Dance, keeping me company)

... I sat down to breakfast with Ed.

I said to him that I find it very interesting that when you slow down in your thought processes, chances are very high that you are not aware of the changes taking place within your cerebral cortex. Much like in walking: I tell Ed he's slowing down in his steps and he always says he's been at the same gait all his life. His response to diminishing brain function? Learn a new language! That's what they all say -- learn a new language. Heck, I have trouble enough getting more fluent in the languages I already speak. The other day I forgot for a moment how to conjugate finir in the French imperfect. That's like year one of basic French. Slipped my mind. Go figure. 

(Baking time. It soothes a wounded spirit.)

 

 

We did not go for a walk. Perhaps that was a mistake. Perhaps going for a walk is the very thing you need to do to keep those verb tenses lodged securely in your brain. Still, it's just not that exciting out there. Muddy, cloudy. That says it all.

In the afternoon I pick up the kids. 

 

 

 

They, of course, get smarter every day. At some point we'll pass each other and they'll take over the world. Something to look forward to! They're good kids!

(His troubled look: I need to tell you something that happened at school. I broke a stick...)

We read the entire afternoon. Riveting, I tell you! 

 

In the evening Ed and I fry our brains even more with another not great Netflix selection. I'm letting that subscription run out this month, having finally exhausted all that we find enjoyable and clever there.

Fried brains, delicious supper foods, chocolate for dessert. Your perfect senior moments, dont you think?