farmette vacation, continued

I fear there'll be scant scribblings today -- the day sizzled like the heat wave that's passing through and my time for writing wilted to a few sorry moments.

Sunrise from behind the crooked pine.






Continued love for the Japanese iris...











Breakfast, on the porch. Who'll finish the berries first?







Gym class drum roll!






Going up is easier than coming down.






Chase that ball!





From gym -- straight to the grocery store. We need to restock!

At the checkout, she wants to hit those credit card machine keys.
I comment -- we didn't have that issue with our kids when they were little.
Sales clerk responds -- that's right, no tempting keys to punch; just oven knobs to turn at home.






Groceries unpacked. Kid bathed. Ed reaches for the oatmeal raisin cookie purchased for him.
Can't I give her some? 
Oh, go ahead.






Lunch. On the porch. A yogurt for dessert.






Mmm, good!






Raspberries, straight from the bush.






I'll humor you and run to you, grandma, but it really is beastly hot!






Everything about this season, this day, this moment is beautiful!






And so we never stay indoors for long. Cool off, go out. Again and again.

I do try to fit in a few gardening tasks. The pots and some of the newly planted flowers need water. Snowdrop chooses to watch the action from inside the wagon.











She has been so cooperative, so willing to go along with most everything I put before her that I think it's a good moment for a small indulgence -- a Greek yogurt strawberry ice cream bar. Licking a cone had stumped her in Paris. But that was a month ago. 
Lick it, Snowdrop!
She does.
Bliss.











It required a hose down, but it's worth it. (We finish the fine details of a clean up in the farmhouse kitchen sink.)






For dinner, I reach for what her mom tells me is a favorite recipe: roasted pepper and artichoke lasagna.
I learn this about the little one: she really loves roasted red peppers. I would not have picked that as a toddler favorite. Ice cream bars, corn on the cob, even raspberries off the bush -- yes. But roasted red peppers? With artichokes?





 She eats with complete enthusiasm.

I had been putting her to bed just before 8, but tonight -- her last night at the farmhouse -- I want to have her up until it is nearly dark. I wonder if her good spirits will last that long.

They do last.

You could say that I tie a bunch of loose ribbons for her tonight. Maybe it's out of my own desire for continuity and completeness and I'm sure many of you will find it all rather mawkishly sentimental, but here's the deal: it happens that when I was a little girl, I loved the hokey Haley Mills movies, especially Summer Magic. The story there defies rational explanation and the themes that run through it are brutally sexist and possibly a lot of other isms can be found in the subtext, but I loved it as a kid and the music stayed with me all my life.

So much so, that I have taken to singing two of the songs from it every single time Snowdrop and I go out for a stroller walk. She knows them too well and since one refers to front porches and people sitting on them and watching fireflies in the night sky, I use the opportunity to show her the many front porches along our walk, all with chairs and benches (though never with people on them and of course, it's always daytime, so no fireflies).

Too, one of Snowdrop's very favorite books is the Lonely Firefly.

And so for our last night with her here at the farmhouse, I put on the DVD of this most awful and once awfully beloved movie, fast forwarding to the Front Porch song. We snuggle on a blanket and she is wide eyed with amazement as Burl Ives strums and sings. You mean someone else knows gaga's song??? (Did I mention that currently, she calls me gaga?)

Then we read the Firefly book.

And then we go out, she in her red wagon. It is dark, or dark enough. The fireflies are out over the fields, doing their communal dance and the girl uses her newly acquired from gym class word again and again -- whoa! whoa! As in -- that's just awesome!

And it is awesome. And I'll leave you with that, because it just can't be topped.

farmette vacation, continued

With all the Snowdrop-filled posts, I should take a moment to remind us all of one very important point about my Ocean writings: in very many ways, even the most child focused posts are not exactly about Snowdrop. Rather, they are about a child's effect on her grandma. On this grandma.

Oh, sure, Snowdrop's personality comes through in bits and pieces -- how can it not. But in fact,  the little girl's time with me is but one element of her rich and varied life. Snowdrop goes to numerous classes, she has play dates. She is used to people because there is a steady stream of visitors to her home and there are evening outings that quite regularly put her in unfamiliar settings.

Fact is that I am far more retreating in my habits and, my travels notwithstanding, I like to come back to my own peaceful corner come evening time. Ed will ask if I want to go out to dinner and inevitably I will say no. I deeply prefer to cook for the both of us. We eat breakfasts and dinners together just about every day that I am not on the other side of the ocean. You could say that my entire adult life has been structured around preparing dinners for people I love -- mainly my family, sometimes visitors.

And Snowdrop, when she comes here, she participates in life according to the rhythm I have set out for myself. Though she is deeply social, at the farmette, we focus on the other stuff. Chickens. Flowers. Cooking together. And she falls into that pace beautifully. She adapts.


Today raises no questions about the weather: warm and sunny. No breeze. Just summer-like heat.

I let the cheepers out just before sunrise...


 


... and take a look at my front road flower bed. There's that Japanese iris again with the spilling petals. Lovely and bold, even in a pure white form.






And here's a day lily that just happens to catch the first rays of the sun. Apricot turns to gold.






Speaking of apricot, this year I planted not a small number of lilium bulbs. This is the first one to give us a stunning display.






Breakfast is on the porch.






And then Ed is off for his meetings and Snowdrop and I pack into the car and set out on an adventure.

Perhaps you would question the sanity of taking a 17.5 month old to a u-pick strawberry farm (Carandale's) anytime and especially on a warm, sunny day, but we are nearing the end of the strawberry season and I have no great expectations that I should pick an abundant load of berries. I just want the little girl to see her beloved berries growing out there in the fields. (The farmette's rather large strawberry patch fed a robust family of groundhogs this year and I think rabbits and chipmunks helped clean up the remains. We had many berries -- all gone before a single one ripened.)

Carandale Berry Farm is a scant ten miles from here. They are well set up for picking and I used to go there quite regularly, whenever I need quality berries in large amounts..

Follow the road, Snowdrop!






It is a toasty day, but it's morning still and I'm hoping her hat provides some shady relief.






Picking berries is hard -- for me and for her. The few berries that remain are buried under dense leaves and there's prickly stuff everywhere (I heard the words poison ivy from another picker... Hmmm...).










But Snowdrop is up for an adventure and you really get a different perspective on life after you've stuffed some sun warmed berries in your mouth...






... ignoring the juice that dribbles down your chin.






I do not push this project. We have a few to take home. We're satisfied.






At home, I'm interested in cooling off at the farmhouse. Crayon time!






Yeah, crayons!!






In the late afternoon, I'm willing to brave the great outdoors again. Equipped with a splash pool and a red wagon.






I'm starting to see the emergence of summer bugs, but she is still in love with the run, the ride, the play out in the deep (unmowed) grass.






Ed comes home. We review the berries, the cheepers, the outdoor work, the robin's nest, the pile of woodchips, the tomato growth.






And then it's time to fix supper. Home made pizza, because I know she loves home made pizza. With mushrooms and olives.





A quiet night. Someday, Snowdrop may yawn at the idea of coming here, to our quiet farmhouse for a vacation, but for now, she is full of smiles and impish good cheer. And that's such a good thing!

farmette vacation, continued

I wake up to a cloudy, drizzly day. Oh, they say it wont rain. And then they say it will rain. Storm perhaps. Maybe not. Who knows?!

I let the cheepers out and admire the garden. Sometimes a flower is made special by the background. One more yellow day lily? Yawn. There are dozens in various garden locations. Ah, but against these flowers? Special.






Of course, all flowers are special. Though some benefit from their unusual presentations. (These irises remind me of a shaggy sheepdog...)






And here's what else I notice this morning: the raspberries are getting ripe! What great timing!






Snowdrop is up shortly after 8, which is a whole hour before her usual wake up time. I'm not surprised. She has always been an early riser at the farmhouse. I feed her a hearty mushy breakfast and then call down a somewhat sleepy Ed when she is nearly done and I'm about to begin. Snowdrop loves to eat in the company of others.











We don't linger, because this time I know there is a gym class this morning. And I'm very enthusiastic about the idea of her doing something physical on this rather iffy (weather wise) day. Snowdrop has a lot of energy...






... and she loves to challenge herself physically and has too few opportunities for it.


In fact it is a great place for her to move about.






Over, under, around and through...











...she unleashes her inner mountain climbing skills.






But what impresses the teacher most is that she takes to the balance beam without hesitation, shaking off any assistance.






A little gymnast is born!

(What next?)




Snowdrop, class is over. 

We visit Paul's coffee shop and then, so long as the weather continues to be unpredictable, we go again to the library just across the street.






A moment to put the body to rest and the mind to work, though I suppose for most of us, it'll always be a combination of the two that makes us grow and prosper.

(Which book now? So many to choose from!)






At home, after her bath, she again chooses to read ...






... but I'm thinking the gym hour has left its imprint!






After her lunch, I tell her we can pick raspberries. She zeros in right for the best of the best.






What? Only one left?






The cheepers follow us everywhere, which is okay by Snowdrop.

(I can make myself small like you...)






We play hide and seek by the willow...






Then she does her solo power walk around the gardens...






While I continue to admire the summer colors around us.











(It is a great year for lavender!)






(Yet another beautiful combination...)






(Sometimes, you just have to step back and take in the larger picture. Or at least one corner of it...)






And when Snowdrop notices me sweeping the walkway, she insists on helping with the task. I haven't the heart to tell her that it's no use sweeping wood chips.






And the afternoon? Well, those storms again pass us by. So we play outside. With puffs and flowers and silly things that make the girl so very happy.










What do we all eat tonight? I go back to a favorite quick dish that I fixed years ago, when I was myself a young mom and times were rushed -- gnocchi with marinara sauce. Snowdrop obviously has the "I love gnocchi" gene. She eats possibly more than either Ed or I do. And she still has room for rhubarb cake and cream.

She protests going to bed. Ed asks -- why not let her stay up? I have to smile at that. He'd be the parent who would let the kids stay up. And read comic books in bed and fix bikes side by side when the season called for it. So many ways to parent or grandparent! So many ways to do well by your little ones!

Ed and I watch the Brexit results late into the night. When times get tough, people run and say "no..." You'd think it would be the opposite. We're an odd fish, aren't we?