a day in Madrid

If you had only a day and a half in Madrid with a nine-year old, what would you do? Maybe stroll over to the Royal Palace? Most likely you'd hike around the vast spaces of Retiro Park. All great ideas. But the thing is, we landed in Madrid at 7:45 a.m. and of course, we have that first day mix of excitement and utter tiredness. Ambitious walks for the day are not going to be a great idea. Instead, we cab over to our hotel -- the Palacio de los Duques, where we have a lovely room waiting for us.

Tempting to plunk down and do nothing more except gaze out the window!

We're a little more ambitious than that. First -- breakfast. Downstairs. Partly outside. It's a high of 76F (24C) in Madrid today.

And then, well, I had thought I'd actually drag the poor girl to the great museum here -- the Prado. It's not that I love it. Too vast, too many El Grecos, too somber. But it has this one painting that I think says a lot about Spain's past. I mean, if you had to take a snapshot of this country's wealth, say in the middle of the 17th century, if you wanted to talk about how art flipped into something entirely new - the depiction of scenes from daily life at the time, you'd do no better than to study Las Meninas by Velazquez. But, as we were waiting in the hotel lobby to talk to the concierge about one thing or another, we see Velazquez's painting right there on the wall. Well, obviously not THE painting, but still, Snowdrop asked about this wall-sized "canvas" and we talked about it in great detail right then and there. Honestly, a trip to the Prado to see the real thing may have been meaningful to you, maybe to me, but as far as Snowdrop is concerned, she'd given the painting its due at the hotel. So I changed course for the day.

We rest up a bit, then head out toward the Botanical Gardens.This isn't just to please me. Snowdrop asked if we were going to stay outside any city on this trip. This surprised me, since our travels (with the exception of the week at Lake Orto and of course California), have mostly focused on urban centers. I think the drive into Madrid put her off a little toward the place. Her first comment about the city was that it seemed dirty, which honestly was probably a reflection of garbage day along one of the streets we drove through. Madrid, at least in its center, is not especially "unkempt." But, since she claimed she had a yearning for some nature, I thought the Gardens might soothe her soul! And on the way, we pause at Madrid's splendid Plaza Mayor -- truly one of Europe's prettiest squares. Some claim it is the largest of all public squares on the continent.

What catches our eye though is the bloom of the trees in one corner! We are so hungry for spring!

From here we walk... 

 

 

 

(unique architecture of Madrid: big windows and roof ornamentation)

 

... to the Gardens. 

 

(almost there: just across this boulevard)

 

 

There is a line for tickets, and we have to wait, even though she is free as a child and I am free as a retired prof, but Snowdrop insists that the Gardens are at the top of her list. 

Not a long wait at all and oh my is it worth it!

Honestly, I think we struck the gardens at exactly the right moment -- a sunny day in what surely is for them the middle of spring.

What else is blooming? Camelias. Irises, lavender, and yes, even an early rose.

She is enraptured. 

(The shaded greens are no less beautiful)

I'm starting to wonder if this will be our favorite moment from the trip!

Afterwards, we begin our walk back to the hotel. It's just about a 40 minute trek and we are starting to drag, so I do us a favor and hail a cab. We do miss out on a walk along the splendid Gran Via, but the cab takes us right along this wide boulevard and I swear at this point, Snowdrop doesn't much care. 

What happened to lunch? Well, there was an ice cream cone early on...

 

 

... and we picked up a few snack foods from the hotel lobby and made do with that. Not sure that exactly suffices for a growing girl but the suddenly warmer temps and tiredness do suppress the appetite a bit. We'll make up for it at dinner.

This was plenty for that first sleep-deprived day. We have the morning tomorrow for taking a look at the palaces and such. But for now, we feel satiated.

Now, about dinner: we had a reservation. We cancelled the reservation. We just could not wait until the late opening hour to eat. Not because we were starving (well, we were really underfed!), but because we were that sleepy. Me especially. In reading together in the late afternoon, I found myself stumbling over words and lapsing into sleepy pauses. Not much chance of staying awake until the Spanish supper hour. 

We eat instead at the hotel. There are three eateries here. I chose the most casual one -- Coroa Royal Gallery and Garden. It's liked among locals, who come to it for the tapas and the drinks. True, Snowdrop's recent adherence to a vegetarian/pescatarian diet may not be a good thing for eating your way through Iberian ham-heavy Spain, but in fact we do find stuff on the small menu that pleases the both of us. And because she is hungry, she devours plantain chips and olives. And fried calamari. And yes, her scallops, but also my squid! And a whole bunch of roasted veggies. 

We are off to a good start!

To bed now! We. Need. Sleep!

with love...

in transit

So many small and big events almost toppled our departure today. Basically everything but the weather! Surely not the first time that I had to cross my fingers that we'd actually take off. In October, there was Covid and we almost had to stay home. In January, it was the snowstorm and we almost had to stay home. Travel, in the age of the unexpected! But, no matter. We did take off. Much to her delight and my relief.

Of course, I had the usual morning at the farmette. It's sunny but cold! Below freezing! 

A warm breakfast is a lovely way to get ready for a departure.

(goofy faces, warm hearts)

Sigh... See you soon Ed.

And then I am at the airport and there I meet Snowdrop and we are off!

Where to? Well, Atlanta first. 

And after? In part, it was the girl's choice. She'd asked last year -- could we go to Spain? I think it was the language thing. She knows a few Spanish words and I can see there is that real longing to be able to say something that belongs to the place you're visiting. I was rooting for southern Europe, if only because when you live in Wisconsin, March can be fierce! A few days in a warmer place can be restorative. When she asked for Spain, I gave her a big smile and a nod.

I can't say that we'll be doing a typical "first trip to Spain." When Ed and I used to travel to this country, we'd always start with Barcelona. It was close to Sorede in Southern France (where we spent many, many June weeks) and, too, it was part of Catalonia. Spanish, but not really. Spectacular countryside, lovely people, great food.

Snowdrop and I are not going to Barcelona. 

I don't think it's an enjoyable place for a child her age. Crowds of tourists, late nights, hard to get a real feel for it. No, not Barcelona. Instead, I wanted to replicate parts of a trip that Ed I did exactly a dozen years ago -- to Andalucia. It is, in fact, my very favorite region of Spain. In the far south, it gives us a shot at good weather. More importantly, it has a beautiful vibe and a fascinating history. I'm hoping she'll like it!

But first, we fly to Madrid, where we will spend almost no time at all. The spring break isn't that long. If we're going to go all the way south, let's at least get a real taste for that region, rather than spreading ourselves too thin. But, tomorrow evening, I should write from Madrid.

buenas noches!

countdown, continued

Ed tells me this morning -- you're preoccupied with your forthcoming trip. Well, sort of. I still have appointments this morning and the morning walk to barn..

(run! here comes the scary human!)

And eventually, breakfast...

But, too, luck would have it that the persimmon trees arrived today and I hover around them as we try to figure out how and when to put them in. This mostly falls on Ed. (Let me rephrase that: it entirely falls on Ed!) I have given up on digging through matted weeds and heavy clay soil, made heavier, it seems, by the earliness of the dig. And I sense he's not that in love with the task either. We talked about what would happen going forward. If these trees fail, how long into our old age will we continue to replace them? It's hard work! 

Trees unpacked, bags packed, what's next? 

(a moment to admire, perhaps for the last time this year, the crocuses!)

 

 

I pick up just Sparrow at school. 

 

(enthusiasm!)

 

 

Snowdrop is off doing Girl Scout things so the boy comes here by himself -- a rare thing for him. 

(he just loves hearts!)

And in the evening, Ed and I eat our farro dish and I fall into my day before departure normal state of, well, missing him. This is the difficult part of any trip -- leaving behind what I love so intensely -- our time together. But, the guy wont budge, so here he stays as I print boarding passes and do a final check before retiring for the night.

Happy spring to all!

 

 

With so much love...

countdown

I'll say this much: I picked a good time to be going away (later this week): the cold snap has settled in for the long haul here, in south central Wisconsin. Or at least for the time that I will be away. It's all a matter of unplanned luck though. I did not pick this period to travel -- it's been in the books for almost a year now and it falls on school spring break. I'm traveling with the oldest grandchild, to a country that used to be a favorite destination for Ed and me, but one that is totally unfamiliar to the girl. 

We leave on Wednesday and neither of us is ready for that departure. I purchased books to get in some background reading. We've looked at none of them. Packing? Ha! 

So today, after the walk to the barn...

 

And after breakfast...

(Ed's on the floor tending to a cat's needs)

I stare at my open suitcase and make some decisions about what to take.

And then, after school...

 

And after an abbreviated time at the farmhouse, I take Snowdrop and Sparrow home, and I do the same for the girl: with her assistance, we pack up her bag for our trip. (What about Sparrow, you ask? Fact is, he's much less ready for such travel, nor does he particularly ask for it. His idea of adventure is very different from hers. Too, I am definitely not feeling strong enough to make such a complicated trip a success for two kids. Snowdrop was a light challenge even two years ago. By now, she is so good at managing on her own that I can have downtime each day and not worry about keeping her happy. Too, if things unravel, she can handle it.)

The packing is not without guesswork. The temps in our destinations have been bouncing around a lot and we can expect some cool evenings (and a mixture of warm and cool days). How do you prepare for that? The proper attitude, in my view, is that it doesn't really matter what you pack. Take something warm for those colder days and a good pair of shoes. All else is trim. You can re-wear or wash if you're a fanatic. Yes, there's always something that you'll wish you had brought along. More often though, you work with what you have and don't give it a second thought.

In other words, packing took no time at all.

In the evening I cook up my farro-cauliflower dish for supper. It's one that will have leftovers for Ed (in addition to yesterday's leftovers). He claims he doesn't need them, but I do know that he likes not to fuss with food in the evening. Reheating something in the microwave is about as simple as it gets.

We watch the next to last episodes of the least season of Loudermilk. That show has given us periods of loud laughter every evening!  In your everyday, if you can find just one wee source of merriment -- you are golden.

With chocolate. And love...

trees and greens

I swear, Ed loves all trees. Indiscriminately. Why else would he refuse to cut off a limb of the honey locust that overhangs my flowerbed? Why else would he be so thrilled to put in pawpaws to expand our fruit and nut tree farm? Why else would we use this day to get ready for the arrival of the persimmons trees this week? And spruces and pines a couple of weeks down the road? Because the farmette needs more trees? I hardly thinks so.

It's cold today.  Significantly so. Just a couple of degrees above freezing. I have to stay happy with what blooms we have now, because we wont gain anything more in this weather.

Breakfast: reheated croissants and rolls. Perfection itself. 

And then comes the garden exploration. First project is one that is Ed's brainchild: to put up a new strawberry station in the new orchard. We are forever trying to figure out how best to grow strawberries, in small quantities. For the kids and for the occasional indulgence. They no longer grow by the sheep shed (too much shade!). They did not grow well in bins on the ground (every animals that passed by ate them just before their moment of ripeness). They did not grow well in baskets on the picnic table (ditto) and last year, they did not grow well in baskets on the tree stumps because we covered them with nets and they got so tangled in them that you couldn't weed or eat anything that popped out, which was very little anyway because it was such a dry summer. Snowdrop would pick the fraises des bois routinely at the rate of one berry per day. We let her have them all because, well, there were so few that it hardly mattered. This year, Ed thought that maybe we could hang the baskets between trees in the new orchard. Thus we don't have to cover them with nets. They'll be out of reach for the chickens, chipmunks, groundhogs, etc. I see a problem with this system: too far from the water source and too far for a daily check in, but he has convinced me that it's worth a try, so we're giving it a go.

Next project: update our tree planting map. Perhaps you'll remember that about five years ago we began tearing into the land back of the barn, planting a total of some 60 trees. Hickory, hazelnut, chestnut, walnut, plus a few maples. Because Ed had the idea that we could tap syrup from the maples when we're like about 90+ years old (when they reach maturity, which will happen after we've turned into stardust, but I admire his optimism). Since then, most of the hickories have said "nope, this terrain is inhospitable, good bye." We've replaced them with more walnuts, and last year -- Ed replaced and added pawpaws. And we've put in the pines and spruces at the northern border. Half of those failed. It was a bad year to be planting trees (away from a steady water source: Ed has to wheel buckets to the trees to water them, which, predictably, he did not do often enough during our drought year).

I should note that all these trees were babies when we planted them! I mean, really wee ones. So that even the ones that grew, did not show much of a spurt in our tough climate. They're still babies!

This year, Ed wants to move out the last of the maples and replace them with the persimmons. Plus we want to replace the failed firs. We bought bigger trees and we plan on watering them, even if it takes buckets upon buckets of water delivery all summer long. 

And so we set to work. We mark the trees that have to be moved out. We find places for the soon to arrive persimmons. We makes sure there are spots for the firs. 

Yes, it is good to be outside, good to be engaged in farmette planning with Ed, and terrible to be out on this very windy and freezing day! After our walk through the "new nut forest," we give up any thought of working outside. It's just too cold.

I turn my attention to dinner preparation. In the warm kitchen. Dumb outdoors...

And yes it's St. Patrick's Day. Yes, people like to go green on this day. I do none of that. We have a birthday in the family today, but not in Madison, so all I can do with that one is send happy thoughts and wishes via the magic connections that we now have available to us. And dinner has nothing green in it except for the grown-up salad. (are you surprised that none of the kids especially like salad?).

They come toward evening, but of course, it's light outside now. And that in itself is lovely!

(ah! I see a bit of green on them!)

(Ed's out locking up the hens, we dive in...)

A weekend behind us.  True, it ended with a bitter cold barreling in at us, but hey, it's still winter! Spring does not arrive until 10 pm our time on... Tuesday! Until then -- button up your coats, it really is cold outside.

with love...

Saturday

Here's a fun fact: today is the last Zero day for me until... April 13th. That means that from tomorrow onwards (until the 13th) I have at least one grandchild and sometimes a whole bunch more in my schedule. This is significant for many reasons, but one especially stands out: taxes! I need to devote time to doing them because those free days aren't there for me between now and mid April. And so, when Ed asks (full of hope and curiosity) -- what do you have scheduled for today? I have to say, very reluctantly -- I have to do my mom's taxes.

Now, this isn't a huge deal. It's a pain, it's boring, it's a waste of time (why do we do this each year? everyone elsewhere on the planet has found an easier way, why do we torture ourselves with such stuff?), but in the scheme of things -- it's just something that you need to muddle through. Still, I'm a little glad that it's not a beautifully warm day out there, because then I would be doubly frustrated, bored, pained. (I'll do my own on April 13th. Something to look forward to, right?)

As I said, a meh day weather wise.

(the new ones still choose the tall firs as their daytime safe haven)

I drive out to get bakery items, looking for that little pick me up that transforms our breakfast table into a feast (at least in our view).

And then -- to work.

When I do the tax forms, I fall into an "I'm determined to get this dumb work done" mode and that provides enough motivation to see me through to the end. So, too, today I set as the goal finishing up my mom -- both federally and with the state of Wisconsin. Turns out the feds were easy. One hour and ten minutes. Done. 

Then comes our beloved state.

A new e-filing system is in place. (This is where I start repeating "I should have just done the paper forms and sent them in.") And it is clumsy. You think you're merely filling out basic questions to see if you can e-file and suddenly you find yourself typing in numbers that are part of the filing procedure. And doing worksheets. And calculating social security deductions and medical insurance deductions. Wait, did I just fill out a form? Or was it an initial request? What the hell just happened? And then suddenly I click on next page and I can no longer go back and I get an email telling me that I have just filed a return. Really?  Where is it? How come I'm not seeing a copy? Where are the calculations? And where is my damn personal copy to print out and treasure and sleep with, tucked under my pillow for safekeeping?

I should have done the paper forms and sent them in!

The point is, the new system leaves you feeling incomplete. You dont know if you've filed (and if I did file, how come no one asked me to pay the $100 that she owes?). You dont know anything! Now, I am no tax accounting expert, but I've filled out these damn forms for 52 years of my life (and for a bunch of years for my mom), and I am an attorney and thus not terrified of legal forms, and if I dont understand what just happened here, then I can assure the Wisconsin Dept of Revenue that there will be others equally or even more confused.

 

So I need to go to my happy place. Without Ed, because he, wisely, waited until I tested the tax waters. Besides, he has many Zero days to plunge into the tax inferno between now and April 15th. 

It's very late in the afternoon before I head out, because the Wisconsin whatever it is that I did, added a few more hours to my ticking tax clock for the day. 

And the wind perked up, and it was cold. But so very beautiful!

These two kept me company.

 

 

Oh, and I should report on what's blooming out here, on farmette lands: the first Syberian Squill is emerging out front,  under the maples...

 

 

And I think we can officially call tomorrow the beginning of our daffodil season. I mean, this is almost open, no?

 

Evening quiet. Everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody, everybody loves Saturday night...

Friday

We all know who the "happy people" in our lives are. The one who invariably make us content, who force smiles onto our faces when we're in their presence. Ocean readers certainly can guess mine: kids, grandkids, Ed. My close to the heart friends. Easy peasy. But how about happy places? Spots where you can count on finding peace, tranquility, warmth, contentment. Do you have one or two? Or more? 

I was thinking about these places today: I return to them often because they provide comfort and joy routinely. I'd have to be pretty down in the dumps not to think to myself -- it feels so good to be here!

Happy places. At the farmhouse, there are a handful: in the summer -- the porch. At all other times -- the kitchen table. In the evenings -- the couch. (I know! It takes so little!) Elsewhere? Our local park, and especially along the standard loop we do -- through the prairie and up the hill. Farther afield -- my hotel room at Le Baume in Paris. A table at lunchtime at Cafe Varenne. I suppose any well tended garden, but now I'm stretching to the probable, rather than the surefire hits.

There is magic in those happy places. They cause you to push aside the fretting, the yowling thoughts, the dreadful images from, say, a newscast earlier on. They always remind me -- yes, but there's also this to life...

Yesterday, Anne Lamott wrote another piece in the Washington Post about aging. (She is nearly exactly my age.) She wrote about routinely taking walks along a creek with a friend whom she has known since childhood. One line stuck in my head, one she quoted from another source -- when you're really pounded from all sides and you wonder -- what's the point? Where's the joy? This person thought for a while and answered -- well, there's always the morning.

Indeed! There's the morning where you wake up to a new day. And there's the porch and the bench in our courtyard (don't let me forget the bench!). And there's our local park, to which we return again and again, Ed and I, and each time we finish our loop I say, so very sincerely -- that was just beautiful!

(today's walk)

It's a sunny day. Cool, but who cares! That's spring out there!

The hens are happy once again. The crocuses are exploding with their brilliance. 

 

 

 

 

 

(the daffodils? almost!)

 

 

Ed and I start our morning with breakfast, still in the kitchen. It will be another month before we dare venture out on the porch.

And we go out for our walk. In the park. Content.

 

In the afternoon, the kids are here. 

As we start in on the next volume of the Greenhouse ghostly-mystery series (I wanted to postpone, but she begged!), Snowdrop throws a glance at my side table, where I keep my KenKen math book. Gaga! I just did those puzzles in school today! Aren't they fun? (For those who did not read this on Ocean -- KenKen logic puzzles appear daily in the NYTimes and they come highly recommended for those who don't want to slip into math nothingness as they get older!)

I am so glad that I am keeping up with my math abilities.

So ends the week. Actually, extremely well for me. Remember the bike ride Ed and I took on Monday to Paoli? Remember my words of wisdom to you on Tuesday? (Never do medical testing the day after you've done an even moderately strenuous activity...) Well now. I had a week of alarm bells going off as those high in the medical profession studied my results. Finally, the most wise and sensible of them all (my own doc) said -- repeat the test when her muscles have recovered after the ride. I did. Alarm bells were quickly silenced.

And now for my happy space. The couch. With Ed's toes digging into me, because he prefers a reclining position. 

With love.

Thursday

Of the three, which would you choose for your (more or less) daily routine: ballet, yoga, or tai chi? 

So, now that you've chosen one, fess up! Do you do it? Why not?

I'd been a yoga fan for a long time. There's just no doubt about it -- it's good for maintaining flexibility. But with a knee that no longer bends at more than a right angle, it's a struggle to get motivated. I mean, if you can't do a child's pose, then where's the fun? 

I tried ballet this fall and I liked it! But it felt meditative with a tiny bit of flexibility built into it, rather than being physically challenging. I'm sure that those who practice ballet at a more advanced level will roll their eyes at my assessment, but for a beginner, the plies and frappes and tendus are only a very mild workout. I still go back to it, but more to achieve some semblance of calm rather than muscle strength. 

So now comes the third horse that's about to be unleashed out of the starting gate: tai chi. If yoga is for flexibility, they say that tai chi is for strength, especially cardiovascular strength. Sounds like something everyone could use, no?

As usual, I dig into the YouTube material first. Ah! No special clothes required! That's good! I can fail and there will be no financial investment. But, as I watch the video, I wonder -- can you really do this on your own? I've watched so many ballet classes in my life (my daughter's my grandkids') that I sort of know the drill there. Yoga? I've taken enough classes to keep me more or less at some stable place of capability. But tai chi? I know next to nothing about it! How do I even pick a good video? 

I watch a few. There's still knee activity, but perhaps I can adjust. Or, maybe you have some good tips on where to begin? Or perhaps you want to steer me away from tai chi in favor of... whatever! Drop me a note. I'm on the lookout for some added movement!

Meanwhile we have ourselves a quiet, rainy day.

The hens look out, turn around, stay in the barn. Crocuses fold up their flower heads and wait for it to pass. 

Oatmeal for breakfast. I mean, it's only right for a day like this!

And then I do my ballet, watch Tai Chi videos and take out my KenKen math puzzles (recommended by someone with exceptional math abilities!). I chose Volume 3, because it's called Stressless KenKen puzzles, with the subtitle: "Mind Stimulating Logic Puzzles That Make You Smarter." Yeah! Two down, 198 to go.

I pick up very wet kids in the afternoon. 

 

 

(a girl who loves rain...)

 

 

They are full of talk about leprechauns. These Irish mythical creatures may have had some standing in Ireland when my kids were growing up, but luckily, they did not make it to the homes of south-central Wisconsin families. In other words, I didn't have to deal with them on St. Patrick's Day. Since my girls have some Irish blood in them (not from me!), I made it an annual thing to dance a jig with them on March 17th. When they were older, they pulled out something green to wear. That's it. Not so this generation of American kids! They want to create leprechaun traps. They want to imagine that this green clad little fellow will come to their home at night. So I nod and smile and wish their parents luck! Cleaning up after a leprechaun who messes up your house while you sleep on the eve of St Patrick's Day. Fun!

(their five minute fascination with the "Cat Game")

 

 

 

In the evening, I reheat soup at the farmhouse for Ed, for me. So perfect for this wet day! Veggies, swimming in a broth, with a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. And a chocolate for dessert. March has been kind to us. We can certainly stand to put up with some cooler, wet days. For a while! 

with love...