sandy Monday

I suppose I could fret about the fact that it is too cool in the morning to eat breakfast on the porch.

(Scotch, our oldest hen, doesn't mind cool temps in the slightest. Her breakfast this morning: a few flower petals, many bugs and a stale remanent of a croissant.)






But really, that would be picky and ungrateful. It's another gorgeous day here, on the farmette and the lilacs are adding spice to the already heady mixture of sweet fragrances.






And the crab apples wont give up their sublime performance!






We eat in the kitchen, to take in the prettiness of it all.






And immediately after, we work on improving the edges of the front flower field.


It's getting close to noon. I'm a little apprehensive about picking up Snowdrop at school, because I know that for reasons of travel and visits and such, the girl is coasting today on too little sleep. But the good weather helps us out. A quiet stroller walk, a few minutes in her favorite playground swing...






...and a few bites of a snack help keep her spirits high.

Then of course there is the promise of a surprise at the farmette. I tell her that ahah built it for her. She understands that to mean that it must be something in the sheep shed. She makes a dash for it.






No little one, no! Come back here! It's in the yard.

Ah, the much discussed, disputed sandbox!

She is greatly surprised to see it. All yellow and white, just like the farmhouse! All yours, Snowdrop!

You'd think that she never have anything in her life that was "all hers!" Or that she hadn't had the opportunity to run her hand through the fine crystals of sand before. She is absolutely tickled to see it.

I start off by giving her a couple of John Deere toy trucks. She likes them...






... but they get ignored once I introduce the tea and cake molds (for sand play).






I had been a bit concerned that the cheepers would want to jump in and scratch sand, but to my great relief, they think the whole sand project is a bit silly.






When Ed joins her in building molds and sculpting who knows what, her joy is complete.






She does seem to like it... he tells me.






Yes, I have a very hard time getting her back indoors. Thank goodness for chopped fruits and croissants. And Duplo characters.






After her nap, Snowdrop just wants quiet time. Like reading the equivalent of a comic book with ahah.






When her parents come to pick her up, she wants so much to show them her sandbox. I catch them walking back. Snowdrop with parents. Crab apple and lilacs.

dreamy day, with the most beautiful array of spring blooms and fragrances and plenty of warming sunshine

The title of today's post says it all. I need write nothing more.

Just a couple of sentences, by way of explanation: a slightly chilly morning kept us indoors for breakfast (ed: why don't we eat at the kitchen table so we stare at the most beautiful blooming tree in the world? Okay!).





But after that, I stay outside the entire day to work in the gardens. Every time I looked up, bits of farmette scenery would appear and I paused in my work to take it in. Occasionally, I would reach for my camera (I hang it on a crinkly willow branch).  You've seen most every scrap of this land before, but today it is all so exquisite, so full of radiance and joy that I had to include it in the record of this day.

So, here are my camera grabs and shoots:



















(This is the time that the woodland garden, to the east of the farmhouse walkway, is at its finest.)






The purple lilac jumps in just as the crabs are peaking.












The farmhouse, framed by both. Oh, the sweet sweet smell of spring at the farmette!






The young family is away for the day and so Ed and I are eating alone, but there is a celebratory mood at the farmhouse. You know -- the weather, the flowers, the progress on the sandbox (he's making a see through cover for it as I write), and the 66-34 results in France -- all this surely calls for my mixing up a celebratory bubbly cocktail tonight. To beauty, to reason, to a calmer, saner future for us all.

Saturday

How grand it would be for all if we could just will away all our large and small aches and pains! The weekend promises beautiful weather and I want to work outside, so back pain -- be gone! Poof!

Miraculously, except for a few whispered, tiny reminders, I woke up to a more or less normal state. The back ache recognized my need to move ahead with yard work today. How good is that!

Morning walk through the garden to see what's what...







The chickens accompany me...






Breakfast!





And then we have a somewhat shortened walk around the Farmers Market. Snowdrop so wanted her own flower, that I splurged.






A brief hide and seek game...






... and then I part ways with the young family.


And most of the remaining daylight hours I spend in the gardens of the farmette. Yes, with the cheepers following my every move. (They are convinced that there is no greater purpose to life than to unearth worms and so surely I must be in pursuit of just that.)





In the meantime, Ed has begun the project of building a sandbox.

It took him FOREVER to come up with a design that would make use of existing resources: odd boards, plywood sheets and strips of wood that he stacks in the garage, and paint, left over from our farmhouse remodeling project. The usual Ed, piecing together something out of nothing.






By evening, the structure is ready for a paint job: yellow with white trim. Just like the farmhouse!






The cheepers don't get our fascination with this sandbox. They retire to a supper en plein air, underneath the fiercely blooming crab apples.






A good day, don't you think? Yes, a good day. And so I read with a half-smile the article in the NYTimes that talks of the content on social media: the authors claim that the good, the wondrous, the perfect stuff posted on social media (FaceBook, to be precise) simply makes readers feel miserable about their own lives. As in -- why isn't my husband be perfect and why don't we ever take these fantastic Caribbean vacations?

Ocean isn't social media, but there are similarities. And the suggestion is that postings that do not present the miserable side of life make those who suffer feel more alone.

Well maybe. On the other hand, when, in the past, everything for me seemed to be unraveling,  reading stuff where people had similar tragedies and poor outcomes made me feel worse rather than vindicated.

Choice is a wonderful thing: you can hide from content that makes you cringe and you can reread anything out there that gives you a chuckle.

I can only hope that Ocean gives you that occasional chuckle. One that comes straight from the belly.

In the alternative, a gentle smile will do. It's grand to find reasons to smile. Maybe reading a post here can push you now and then toward that grin. If even one person is made better, calmer, happier by some anecdote he or she will have read here, well then, the time I spend on writing posts will be time not wasted.

Happy weekend to all!

Friday

Such days come only in May! The world's a riot of blooms and fragrances, the sunshine is still gentle and the greens of new growth are young and innocent.






(And those crabs! In the wee hours of the morning...)






It takes my a while to limber up today (oh that back! -- as Snowdrop would say), but once I do, I try to plunge back into a normal rhythm. I can't quite dig and plant, but I can certainly admire the garden.

And fix breakfast -- in the sun room!






And I can grocery shop. (I must be moving with a bit of stiffness, as the clerk asks -- Do you need help taking the bags to the car? Yes!)

And I can pick up Snowdrop. They are finishing a picnic in the playground when I arrive. She proudly shows me where there is a "library box" of books.






Anxious to head out adventuring!






Then home to the farmette. Ed is (finally!) mowing and she runs happily to greet him, but as she gets closer, the noise of the mower puts her off...






Do you want a ride?
No! It's too loud!

We look at the tomatoes instead.






Ed takes a pause (possibly because he does not like mowing) and she runs up to him with pinwheels twirling!






Inside, they settle down to read. Snowdrop knows this particular book like the back of her hand, but she still treats it as quite the dramatic story.






And outside, the birds sing, the bees buzz and the flowers would make the sternest person's heart sing!

Yeah, only in May!

Post nap vignettes:

An appreciative look at the tulips that are coming despite the inital chomp down by local animals.






The post-nap little one, wanting to sweep.






Watering: a tad hastily, but with great respect for each pot.






What[s this?
Boards. Ahah will be making you a sandbox.
Where is the sand??
In the store. We'll buy it soon.
Now? Can we go to the store now?
First ahah has to build the sandbox.
Can I help? I will build it too!






In the end, she had to be pulled away from her dream of an immediately ready sandbox. Oh, the turmoil this one square piece of nothing has triggered!

In fact, though, it's a non issue. There will be sand in a box, there will be other dreams and days of grand weather. There will be flowers. There will be love.

(A combo that sort of reminds me of the Polish flag...)






So much beauty! Almost impossible to take it all in. Sometimes you worry that May offers too much. But mostly, you're just so happy to be in the thick of spring again.

twists and turns

A day of sunshine and friendly breezes! Of tulips...






... and apple blossoms!






A day of continued thoughts in the matter of the sandbox.

Perhaps I let my feelings take hold too much in our discussions. My guess is that it all dates back to my own childhood.

Way back then, I was such a tomboy! By age twelve, I loved nothing more than to put on my "dungarees" and take my skateboard out on the sidewalks of New York. When I learned we were returning to Poland the next year, I saved up to buy myself something I knew I could never find in Poland -- a baseball mitt. I can still smell that leather and feel the pleasure of putting the damn thing on.

Oh, I learned quickly enough that boys didn't chase tomboys and so when I returned to Poland and joined my high school class, I tried, really tried to become more of a girlie girl.

My own daughters (and I hope they're okay with my saying this) were more balanced growing up. They had a sandbox and to the best of my recollection, they ignored it. But Snowdrop has her own agenda. She loves playing in the sand. And I'm thinking -- is sand like a skateboard for her? (I smiled when I heard that Snowdrop loved the skateboards at the home of family friends who had between them four little boys.)

Or maybe it's just that I am an internet junkie like the rest of America and when someone shows me exciting outdoor gear for toddlers, I succumb and reach for my credit card?


Breakfast, this time with more smiles than sulks. (I caved. We'll send back the gorgeous sandbox and play structure ordered from Home Depot. I'm definitely the caver of the two of us. I can't stand the pained look on the face of the opposition. I'd make a terrible legislator.)





So if not the sandbox with the adorable play structure next to it (made of fine Austrian pine, beautifully finished so both child and grandma can enjoy it), then what?
I'll build you something.
Loudly: thank you. Quietly: it wont be half as nice...

But it's a good thing that we have moved beyond the sulks because within minutes, I need Ed's help with something far more pressing than a sandbox: I set out to work outside in the flower beds and immediately manage to throw my back out. [Odd expression, don't you think? I threw it out, but could find no suitable replacement!]

I haven't done this in several years and so perhaps I'd gotten a little too sanguine about doing physical work of a demanding nature. But honestly, I was just twisting and turning, scraping dirt and fitting in a new flower and boom! One little wrong move and I have bought myself many days of pain.

Ed!

To my knowledge, there is little one can do until the pulled muscle relaxes and mends. Aleve pills, sure: they take the edge off. And back support. I cant sit without it. And initially -- not a whole lot of bending, because once you get down, you may not be able to get back up.

I'll help you with Snowdrop -- he reassures me. For once, his confidence in handling an active two year old sounds wonderful.

And so this is how Snowdrop had the both of us show up as school to pick her up (she herself had had an unfortunate tumble at school! what a day! Remembered by great things and too, for life's tumbles). She was one happy child! The more family, the better, as far as she's concerned.






Snowdrop can get herself into the stroller, but getting out is trickier. Too, hoisting her anywhere at all, including into the car seat is, right now, an impossible task for me. And so Ed does the lifting and I tag along for the ride.

The three of us go to the neighborhood playground by the lesser lake. Of course we do! It's gorgeous outside! And Snowdrop is thrilled to have ahah push her on the swings.
She likes to go high...






Not that high!






And they climb the life guard tower together...






And then, you guessed it -- they settle in to build castles in the sand.

Actually, Snowdrop first wants to fashion a sheep shed...






(It's hard work! Off goes the jacket...)






She then decides that it should be her very own car.  In she goes.






It is a wonderful hour of play!


At the farmette again, she eyes the creeping phlox.
Okay, Snowdrop, you can pick that flower. I mean, I'm reasonable. (And of course, there are hundreds of buds!)





Hey, just one, not a handful!

And after her nap she plays with ahah again. Ball games. How curious that when she initiates ball games, she always asks for Ed!






In the evening, her mommy comes to take her home. The young family is going out tonight and Snowdrop changes from her sandy play stained clothes. She tells me again and again that she now prefers short sleeves (remembering our discussion some weeks back when she refused to take off a sweater because it felt, well, too bare)! I'm so proud of that kid!






On with your shoes, little one. Your mommy has a lot before her tonight!






As for my big push this weekend for me to finish planting -- well, maybe it will be a little push, or maybe no push at all. I suppose there are worse things in life than sitting on the porch in heavenly May weather and looking out at a blooming set of trees, whose fragrance, mixed with the lilac, is so strong that it drifts all the way to me on the porch as I sway in a chair, forgetting everything except how really lovely it all can be.