the reluctant landord

Ed tells me this morning -- there is an article you might find interesting in the NYTimes today. An opinion piece called I'm Not Evil, I'm a Landlord.

I mention this because it is Saturday -- a very pretty Saturday, but one where after breakfast...






... I do little else besides work (with Ed's help) to clear the yard of fallen winter branches and other debris. It is a huge chore, but it gives me time to think and my thoughts stray to this new identity that I currently have -- that of a landlord.



(first flowering tree)


I did not want to be a landlord. Indeed, when I decided to purchase the apartment in Warsaw, it was understood that I would not rent it. The law requires that I put it to personal use for at least five years and though I intend to have the occasional person spend time in it, the purpose would be to apartment sit, in much the same way you would stay with a cat -- to make sure that no disaster would befall in my time away from it. But no rents will be collected and the apartment would be my home in Warsaw.

So how is it that I am a landlord?



(the white lilac)


Well, when I made an offer on the pink horror -- let me just call it "the Apartment" for now -- I was told that I had to honor an existing rental obligation. Two music students are living there now.
How long?
Oh, a month. They must move out within a month of the final signing of the property transfer.

The final signing took place March 10. You'd think they'd be out by April 10th. You'd be wrong.

Soon came the gentle suggestions.
Maybe you could let them finish the semester... It's so hard to find a rental at this time of the year...
When is the end of the semester?
No one knew for sure. Something like the beginning of May.

I do want to begin construction work on the unit. And I want to be able to use it on my next trip to Poland in July.
There really are no other rentals they could move into?
Well, maybe there are, but these students have big instruments.

Ah yes. Big instruments. Of course they love the Apartment. It's a few houses away from the College of Music. Convenient. No lugging of big instruments across town.



(the great willow)


I think about letting them stay an extra two or three weeks.
But under the law, I cannot be a landlord!
Well actually you can honor the completion of an existing obligation.
So I must throw them out by April 10, no?
No, because they have a lease until the end of June, but with the stipulation that they can be evicted earlier if the new owner so desires. So you'd still be honoring an existing obligation if you let them stay into June.

They're now thinking they may have some exams in June.

But I want to use the apartment in July! I have hired a renovation person. Construction work was to begin this spring. I've scheduled my summer around this!
They really are such good, serious students. Everyone wants them to stay...
I see. Good music students. What if they were awful students? Pursuing a degree in real estate perhaps?



(in full bloom)


My images run to a room full of people staring me down: it's my legitimate use over the students' (if what I'm being told is true) legitimate need. 

As I pick up fallen twigs and larger limbs at the farmette, I think about how sometimes, it's tough to foist capitalism down Poland's throat. The maligned communist era did have a handful of perks that many would agree were fine perks indeed: far reaching educational outreach, free health care, full employment, social security. None were exactly up to western standards, so you could say that we all worked toward a low common denominator, but rip that denominator to shreds and you have a country with a widening gap between the affluent and the poor. In other words, capitalism. (At the same time that in the States, we are in the thick of an election year where many are turning their fist toward capitalism -- all that free market stuff that has chased jobs to distant lands, a wealthy class that grows wealthier by the hour while wages for most remain stagnant -- dreadful capitalism! Let's do something about it! -- So long as it doesn't raise our taxes, or move us to socialism. Funny how all this plays out.)

So now here I am, the reluctant capitalist landlord, trying to decide if I am to proceed by the rules as written (April 10th, boys, April 10th!), or by some higher rules where you tuck your interest aside because, well, there are these two students who, if you ask me, signed a really bad lease.  (The seller didn't want to lose a sale in the very tough right now real estate market, so the move out clause was slapped in.)
What were the students thinking?! 

Nobody thought the apartment would sell! It's so ugly!

Yes, but it did sell. Meet landlord Nina.


The branches are stacked, the spent stems raked away, the leaves, the pods -- mostly mulched. The work outside is off to a good start.

Friday

From misty skies that seemed to portend of a cooler, grayer morning...






... there arose a beautiful, gentle sun. Slowly.






But surely.






And it gained strength, and the air turned warm, and the crocuses felt safe enough to release their golden petals.






It is a gorgeous day to be in Wisconsin!


Breakfast in the sun room.






The rest of the day is devoted to Snowdrop. Oh, you may look at photos where she runs this way and that and think -- she has run before! But honestly, to this grandma's eyes, she is, each day, magnificent in spirit...






And full of uique energy. (I might note that, for the first time since birth, she refused both naps today. Life was just too interesting!)






The girl clearly has succumbed to a strong case of spring fever.






Later in the afternoon, I take her to a coffee shop, where she shows incredible patience (the service is on the slow side). And curiosity: penguin, what do you see when you gaze straight up?






At her home again, she shows me her new commitment to scribbling.






And if that isn't enough to make me think she's growing by leaps and bounds, surely this next photo leads me to imagine that she wont appear that much different fifteen years from now: thumbs moving fast, foot thumping -- a girl born into the world of smart phones (at this stage -- Fisher Price pretend smart phones).






It's an unusual day, because the little girl and her mom are at the farmhouse for supper. It's rare that I have much time with Snowdrop and her mom: if I am there, then my daughter is typically away at work. But tonight, I revel in watching the both of them, together, doing what they always do...











Supper is on the informal side, but I am sure to cook up some brussels sprouts. Snowdrop eats every last one.






One more giggle...






... and now it's time for this grandma to go to sleep. Good night, good night spring moon, clear skies, happy girl, penguin, crocuses and all exquisite blossoms that follow.

Thursday

This morning at breakfast, we talked about the ongoing lawsuits against various holdings of the billionaire who happens to be running for president. This quickly morphed into a discussion of lawsuits in general, about tax codes that are difficult to follow and tougher still to enforce, about making savvy decisions in light of complicated pools of information, and about chickens who are no longer waging war, but are nonetheless making sure that the younger hens understand their place in the group.





All this caused me to blurt out -- it must be difficult to be prosperous, or to be a top chicken.
Ed laughed at that: a sudden sympathy for the powerful and wealthy of this world?

No. It's so much harder to be powerless and poor, or to be little Henny, who is so terrified of violating the social order that every time I raise my hand to throw bread (a gesture that the other girls understand means a dispersal of their favorite treat), she runs away, concluding that her station in life dictates that she should flee. But I do think being top hen (and perhaps being rich) must come with its own perils: look at Butter -- she can never relax. She follows the younger girls to make sure that they're not getting a better deal in life and that she, Butter, should have the first turn at fat worms or pieces of bread. Yes, it must be tough to guard your holdings or your premier status in life. Even as my heart goes out to Henny and my gratitude -- to Java who guards the littlest hen with her own huge presence, making Henny feel safe and comforted.








And as I am on the topic of little ones, let me go straight to Snowdrop's home. Here, I want to just mention two games that have positively grabbed my granddaughter's attention this morning.

First, the spoon series:






There is the spoon dance (where she does a lovely little step with her right foot):






And then there's the "bang the dishcloth" dance:






But it's the second play that really gets her chortling. After working diligently to sort shapes, she thinks up a funner game: peek-a-boo from behind the basket lid, which she deftly holds with her teeth. Just because.






I get my face very close on the other side and then she just can't help herself! It's so funny!






Of course, no day is complete without time devoted to carrying jackets, shoes, penguin, all at a run. Case in point (yes, it's kind of a wild hair day):












In the late afternoon, I pack her into the car and drive to our Big Mall. I'm not a great fan of malls and I am sorry to subject her to it, but I'm running low on errand time and I must return an item purchased under pressure (well, purchased when I succumbed to an email ad) and so I tell Snowdrop that I will happily pay for that overpriced toddler car stroller thing if she will stay good humored during our venture.  It's a $5 expense, but I'm desperate.

Of course, she's fine with the car, but loves much more the freedom to romp up and down the mall on her own.







Evening. I come home to cheepers, to Ed, to the quiet of the farmhouse. I would end my post  with this, but I do want to note just one more thing: as of today, I am the proud owner of a tiny tiny Warsaw apartment, all pink and awful in the photos that I inspected. Of course, that's the end of chapter one. What to do with it, how to transform it, and more importantly -- how to create good memories in it -- that surely will fill many Ocean pages in the future.

Wednesday

No, it wasn't simply a quick taste of good weather to wet the palate and hunger for more. Today's morning is as lovely as yesterday's and apart from the possibility of intermittent showers, it seems we're on a roll. A spring roll.

There had been rain at night and the morning walk to the coop was made the better for it. The damp earth feels no longer frozen. I'm sure there are worms. The cheepers are sure there are worms. The robins, the cardinals, the bluejays -- I've seen them all, I've heard them all. We're in this wonderful spring boat together!

Mists hanging onto the fields around us, the sun pushing through wisps of clouds, all beautiful, despite the absence of grand spring color.






(But that color -- we wont have to wait long for it. Do you see it?)






It's the kind of morning that makes us early risers happy to be up and about, before the rest of the world gets too crazy around us.






Breakfast in the sun room. (Yes, he's in shorts. What can I say -- I doubt I'll see long pants on him again for a long long time.)






And then I am off to be with Snowdrop. As I bathe her, then dress her, I'm thinking -- maybe I should just let her romp in bare feet today. In Wisconsin, you don't want to do that in the months after the frost sets in, but we're past those times, aren't we?







She is intrigued. She rarely sees her own toes. Well, today she wiggles them and balances on them to her heart's content.






What, I'm neglecting her face? Here she is, Snowdrop herself...






Later, as we head out on our walk, I tell her -- your nickname comes from this flower. It makes no impression on her. She is far too captivated by the children playing in the school yard across the street.






But is she happy with the onset of warmer days? Oh, I think so.





Her smiles are positively effervescent!

I'm home a wee bit earlier today -- with enough time to work in the yard. I clear, I rake, I clip. The cheepers are there to keep me company and for the first time, all four are working in close proximity to one another, picking bugs, scratching the soil, doing whatever it is that chickens do in weather that is quite possibly a chicken's idea of perfection.






 There is no doubt about it -- it's a grand day to be out scratching dirt!

Tuesday

Oh, what a day! What a beautiful summer-like (yes, summer-like) day! Windows wide open, birdsong coming in strong, cheepers running this way and that, as if themselves confused about the sudden onset of this grand loveliness.

It's a full Snowdrop-sitting day for me and immediately after a sunny breakfast...





... I head out to her place.

What if, what if, we pulled out something with short sleeves today? Just this one day, because I know we'll return to March and trudge restlessly through iffy April, but for now, let's pretend it's May, or better yet -- June!






Run, little girl, run with the wind!






Warm days, happy days, giddy grandma, giddy Snowdrop.






And in the afternoon, Ed shows up, just for that walk, not anything grand or extravagant, a simple brisk walk around the neighborhood, but oh, what a walk! Light sweaterss (in Ed's case -- shorts), light spirits, spring steps, summer thoughts.






We come to the lesser lake -- it's ice free!






And a coffee shop interlude, just because.






On the way home we stop at the playground. First time this year!
Can I just run around grandma?
Are you really only fourteen months old, Snowdrop?






Her mom had told me Snowdrop likes going down the slide just fine -- with someone. I'm game! Ed catches us (and takes the photo). Admittedly, not a long slide. But thrilling! For the grandma as well as the little one.






Such a day! And what is most extraordinary is that the best is yet to come.
 

Monday

Rise before dawn, sleep soon after dinner. It's a good pattern, if a bit out of step with the modern world. (My grandma favored it. My grandma was not modern.)

Let the chickens out, study the skies, inhale deeply.

In anticipation of Snowdrop's Monday visit, I ask Ed to put together the red wagon that I have added to the farmette stock of childhood essentials. Watching him work, systematically, almost rhythmically is always deeply satisfying. In building something, he displays his fantastic patience and great care. He'll never throw out a curse or an exasperated groan when things go wrong. (Unlike me.) And so I look on, taking in, too, the pale sunshine that warms the morning air to a whopping 60F (15C) today.






Breakfast is late. The sun has almost left the east facing room. No matter. There is no rush today.






And shortly after, Snowdrop arrives.

Let me post a very representative trilogy -- it documents well her typical first minutes at the farmhouse.

There is the search for a favorite stuffed animal to hug.






An initial run between rooms, at first with just the stuffed rabbit.






With a pause for a look at a favorite book.






And now I interrupt her play and suggest taking bread to the cheepers. At first, she is happy with the prospect of putting on the shoes and zipping up the fleece jacket. But her love of the red wagon is not instantaneous. I took a handful of photos. This is the only one where her face is not sporting a grimace.






But you know how it is: if you're unsure about an activity, you get very excited when you're on safe ground again. And so back in the farmhouse, she is especially happy to be doing one of her very favorite things these days: filling her arms with a jacket, shoes, maybe gloves, and, too, a stuffed animal...






...she runs with all this in a delightfully hoppy happy manner.






And if Ed's patience is in putting together parts to form a coherent whole, her's is in keeping a load in her arms. If something is dropped (and it is -- every few sauntering steps), she picks it up and tries again. And again. And again.






Lunchtime. Hey, little girl -- a new bib from the Conservatory in Minneapolis!






And the afternoon? Oh, the games Snowdrop invents for herself!

She makes penguin stew... (penguin stew???)






She brings her stack of stuff to "work" alongside Ed, who watches, amused at her cleverness, her sparkle.






The two with the wild hair!






Later, toward the end of the day, I take her back to her own neighborhood and Ed tags along, happy to go out for a walk with us...






And we find that first beautiful sign of growth: snowdrops.






We stop briefly at the coffee shop...






Snowdrop knows she has to wait for her wee morsel.






She is also learning that sharing is important. That even a wee crumb tastes better if you can eat it with a friend.






Such a good beginning to a week! But you could have guessed that just by reading this one fact: we had May-like weather today. On March 7th. In Wisconsin. Amazing.