the morning after

I Waking up to the unexpected 


Well of course, I was wrong in predicting that a woman would be our next president. I could have updated yesterday's post, but I didn't do that, because most of the hours of the day I had spent thinking that Donald Trump would be defeated. The post stands true to those hours.

We gave up watching and listening when Trump crossed over to a solid win, but of course, it had been obvious for many hours already that this would happen. Those same polls and predictors that had solidly stood behind his loss and her gain, swung crazily in the course of the day and I believed what they foretold, in the same way that I had believed what they had previously and quite differently told us. It's hard to get me to abandon logic and reason, particularly when I make political calculations.

At night, I had my recurrent dream about the airplane: I'm on it and I see that it is unexpectedly starting a descent -- ultimately to land in some small unknown to me village, in a place that I do not recognize. There is no airport or runway, but the large jet lands safely, though without explanation as to why, or what now from the cockpit. We disembark. I remember to take my pack, but only that. I have no idea where we are or how a huge airplane is going to take off and continue on its journey again. It's a dream that comes often to me at times when something in the course of the day catches me by surprise and puts me in new territory.

I don't know about you, but after an election, no matter what the outcome, I think about my children and now, too, my grandchild. Me -- I'm retired.  I've lived under many different presidents, indeed under different regimes. But for those who are younger, there's a lot to think about and I had a whole night to imagine how I might have answered a Snowdrop question of "what now?" had she been old enough to ask it.

Maybe because I am a postwar child, maybe because I think it helps in life to feel optimism -- I'll likely look ahead with the belief that many good people will work hard to make sure that this country moves forward in some fashion. Let's get crackin'. There's work to be done!

Let me start by picking up more of the lotus tree seed pods that showered the yard again last night.






And yes, it is another gorgeous, sunny day here, in Wisconsin. No frost yet. You look out and you think -- we live in a beautiful land. Let's take care of it.






II How oddly normal this day seems!

At first, Ed resists the idea of breakfast. Cereal, after reading countless opinions as to what happened and what the future holds seems so wrong somehow!

Or so right? I'm in favor of preserving the best of our lovely routines.






Inevitably, we do a lot of reading after that. And yard work -- a therapy of sorts. Improving something is a good antidote to the potential for a large scale disruption.


And then I pick up Snowdrop.

(Just out of school...)






She, of course, sets her mood by the mood of others and by the weather and by the book she can "read" or the toy that's there for her.






Yes -- the weather. It's a mood booster, that's for sure!






(Quiet time...)







III Child's play


After her nap, it's all so normal! She colors...






She "cooks soup."






She insists on going out again. It's cooler now. Coat goes on.






I show her the seed pods I'd picked. She wants to help push the cart. Now there's a difficult undertaking!






She settles on a ride on top. And she sees the moon. It shines brightly over us all tonight. Did you know that?






The two read until Snowdrop's parents come to take her home.






Let me end with flowers. Nasturtium. For all of us who really need flowers today.

a day of firsts

As I write this, nothing about today's election is yet determined. But I'm going to go out on a limb and predict a win for Hillary Clinton -- giving us a first female American president.

I like firsts that shatter at least a few barriers to success. I like them when they make a positive statement. I like them when they involve women, because I am surrounded by girls in my family and their future depends in part in how this society regards women.

So I like predicting that Ms Clinton will lead this nation, following the tremendously awesome presidency of Mr. Obama.

These, at least, are my happy thoughts and I'll keep them with me for the rest of this beautiful November day.

And it is a brilliantly sunny day yet again! Ed and I had contemplated going out to breakfast after voting, but we love our breakfast at home and so we reverse ourselves and eat first. In the sun room...





And then we vote. No lines, no fuss. Ballots cast.


When I pick up Snowdrop at school, I see that she is in a spirited and happy mood. Wouldn't this be a good time to take her for her first real haircut? Her parents had given me the instruction to either cut or have cut their little one's rather wild and uneven hair and though I've cut Snowdrop's bangs many a time, I decided to let Lyndsy -- a neighborhood stylist -- do the first all around trim. I have a sentimental attachment to this small little salon, as it's where my younger girl had her hair done for her wedding and it's where my older girl and I continue to get haircuts. May as well add a generation to Lyndsy's repertoire.

I walk in, just to ask if there would be a good time to schedule a visit today, but Lyndsy herself is at that moment getting a hair treatment and she happily pauses to work on Snowdrop.

Neither of us are sure how the little girl would take to the whole experience.  I'll let you guess!

(Before)





("Can you look down?" Well, sort of...)






There. Finished. After:






Let's see the back!






Happy girl! But then, this is how one would describe Snowdrop on most days, haircut or no haircut!






At home, she rediscovers an old toy that requires a lot of thumb action and as I watch her, I again have the uncanny feeling of seeing her as she will be perhaps a decade from now...





Ah, may that happiness at discovering all life's possibilities always stay with her!


I have a rather unusual early evening -- I'm scheduled to have a drink with two women who were once (several decades ago!) my students and who are now very successful in their lawyering work in town. It's always special when someone morphs from being student to friend and somehow it feels especially right on this day to beam at the way the lives of these two bright and happy women have turned out.

And then I return home and watch election returns with Ed  and it strikes me that he is the one guy who has crossed my path today, but there isn't a sweeter way to end this day, this election, this important election than to celebrate it at home, us two, munching on pistachios and chocolates as the evening progresses.

Monday pleasures

If you have a sunny and warm day in November -- you feel it's a gift. But what if you have one after another, just like that? Truly, for us upper Midwesterners -- it's over the top.

We eat breakfast in the front room, though honestly, there isn't a room in the farmhouse that does not benefit from all this sunshine.






I work for an hour or two on clearing the flower beds (with greater finesse than during my previous efforts). But you can't proceed blindly with clearing and removing spent stems, when there is still so much out there that hasn't quite faded to the degree you'd expect by November.






(At least the crab apple leaves have mostly fallen...)






Oh, but what a glorious day it is! Blue skies, gentle breezes. Short sleeves for Snowdrop as she leaves school.






(Protectively, I push her to wear her jeans jacket. She's fine with that.)

At the farmette, I ask her if she wants to help me water the front flower bed. (I'd put in some bulbs and they've not seen rain yet, nor is there rain in the forecast.). She considers it, but ultimately sticks with her definitive "no."






But tumbling in leaves? Now that gets a big "yes!"






After, as we walk toward the farmhouse, I point out the kayaks that came back with us yesterday. Ed hadn't yet stored them in the garage and so they stand out in the courtyard.

Snowdrop is intrigued. Oftentimes, she is hesitant to try out something completely new. Not so with the boats.






She loves climbing in and out, directing ahah where he should sit...






In and out, in and out. Endlessly. Enthusiastically.






Then with Ed, working the paddle. Loving every bit of it.






Look out world! Here we come!






It's hard to get her inside. Finally. With a pause by the flowers.






I tell her I need to throw a sheet of cookies in the oven. Her energy returns and she is there, moving the chair to help me.

Here's her classic request for "just one more raisin" (or one more of anything).






Keep mixing, Snowdrop!






After her nap, she wants to be outside again, this time with her wagon. Very quickly, she scrambles to get out. I steer us toward the farmed fields where it's safe to let her loose. She wants to be in charge. No, gaga! I push it!





It's tough going and sometimes it's just impossible for her to move the wagon without my assistance, but she does not give up.






"Just one more time!"






At home now. She takes to a stack of books.  She is so beautifully sensitive to the mood of the house (quiet now in the early evening) that it's hard to remember that she is just 22 months old.






She goes home. The house grows quiet. A stack of books remains on the couch, a few puzzle pieces are scattered on the floor. I smile and turn my attention toward preparing dinner.

Sunday photo album

What a day! Stunningly warm and beautiful in the most unexpected places. I'll offer you few words, but very many photos. To make things easier, I've split things into three chapters:

I  Morning with Snowdrop

You'll remember that the little girl was with us for the night. She wakes up at her normal  time -- around 7. Except that our clocks are pushed back, so it's really 6.

That's okay, I'm ready for it. And she is my willing partner in the routines of the early day.Want to go out with me and open the chicken coop? Yes!

In the last weeks, as she asks me to read one of her favorite books about weather (I know -- kids have such singular tastes!), I have had a hard time explaining to her what fog is. Today, I have my chance, as the morning horizons are touched by wisps of heavy mist. Put on your jacket, Snowdrop, we're going to look at fog!




She's surprised. Probably she doesn't fully appreciate the concept. Things feel wet and unwelcoming to her. She is happy to get back to the farmhouse.

After a long warm bath, she is raring to go. Breakfast with gaga and ahah? Yeah! Pancakes!






Love that maple syrup!






(But she also tastes and loves my oatmeal with fruit and honey.)

After breakfast -- morning play. With trains. With trucks. With characters.






Do you want to go outside now?
Yes!






We go to the front yard, where we have the prettiest golden maple leaves. I'm thinking she'll enjoy playing in them.

She does!






The cheepers come down to see what we're up to.






The air is getting warmer by the minute. It's an exhilarating time to be outside!






Snowdrop loves walking through my front flower bed. There are a few blooms left -- I let her pick whatever she wants. In mid November, you quit worrying about preserving flowers.

Lavender!






Nasturtium!






Gaura (aka whirling butterflies)!






Hydrangea!






And now it's time for me to take her home.


II Paddling


Ed has been proposing a kayak run for us for quite a while. Recently, he discovered a paddling trail that is about as close to home as you can get: the idea is to load the truck with kayaks and bikes, drop off the bikes at lake Waubesa and then take the kayaks to the put in point at one of the streams that feeds the lake. The total paddling time is estimated at about 4 hours, but we run into some snafus!

At first -- narrow, but navigable.





But then, the stream goes underground! We have to get out and walk our kayaks through muddy marshy land. Okay, we manage! We persevere!

And here comes my least favorite part: paddling underneath the superhighway. It's long. It's dark. It's shallow. We cannot paddle. We have to use our hands to push away against the highway underbelly. You have to do it -- it's not as if you can turn back...






Phew! Done!

The stream then becomes quite pleasant.


 



Very pleasant indeed...






Until we come across a total blockade of fallen logs.

We struggle here. At one point, I get out to move some timbers (I'm more nimble at getting in and out of a kayak in tricky situations). Ed heaves. We push our boats.






Success! We continue.






Finally, Lake Waubesa. Are we almost there Ed? (My arm muscles are feeling the workout!)





A couple more hours and we're at the place where we left our bikes.



III Sunday Dinner


We are home just in time for me to begin dinner preparations. It's Sunday and so the young family is here for our evening meal. Snowdrop is terrifically excited! And I am too!






The dinner ends. Ed settles in to watch an evening talk show. Snowdrop loves to keep him company.






Day is done. Yes, fuller than full. In the best of ways.