from Chicago

The timing of my Chicago visit is really fortuitous. I was to help my daughter around the edges of the day while the dad was out of town (and spend some time playing with my granddaughter too, of course), but it turns out Primrose does indeed have one of those bugs that requires home rest.  For working parents, this is always a tough one. But not this time -- I'm here and glad to wave my daughter away as Primrose and I settle in for a day at home.

Happily, Primrose isn't completely wiped out by this. Her appetite alone tells me that she is just a little under the weather.






(My breakfast comes after she is settled for a morning nap...)






Still, the bug does curtail outings and big adventures. Even though there are cloud breaks in the sky and the sun occasionally throws out a few warm rays, it's a wintry kind of day in the city. And so we stay indoors.

(In the morning, while she still has some pep in her, she shows me her skills...)






(And explains life as she knows it...)






In the afternoon, Primrose rests. On my shoulder, in bed, on my shoulder. On my shoulder.

She has a slight downswing, though you'd never know it looking at her await an afternoon snack.






Both mom and daughter are very happy to see each other at the end of the day.





The evening is a blur. I had cooked us some lentil soup while Primrose was resting. My daughter and I ate that very very late... The little girl is feeling better. We think. Maybe. She is such a sweet-natured child that sometimes it's hard to tell.

flipping

People talk about Congress flipping, gubernatorial seats flipping -- all this signifies changes ahead, but me, I continue my days as before -- helping with grandkids, enjoying the quiet warmth of the farmhouse and every once in a while, flipping from one home to the next, from one child to the other, from teeny Fitchburg to big Chicago, even as days grow short and cold and leaves no longer swirl and the cheepers hide as best they can from the wintry winds.

I have far too little sleep under my belt. I retired upstairs before midnight but instead of tuning out election results, I kept shouting down to Ed -- what are the numbers now? He would dutifully report and the numbers would be harrowing and close, indeed, the result kept flipping so that I needed to shout down again, and then again, and this continued until Wisconsin finally had 100% of the votes counted, which happened at 2:30 in the morning.

It is Wednesday and so Sparrow came to the farmhouse early, delighting me with his smile and today, with his cap, which I am told Snowdrop only reluctantly let him wear.







I kept thinking he surely looks like a little lad now! Lovely boy, lovely mood, lovely day.






Breakfast is in the kitchen. The three of us today.






Sparrow remains calm and so I get a bit of a break. He watches anything and everything and chortles along as mobiles spin and lights twinkle and some music box pours out the usual baby fare.






And minutes after Sparrow leaves, I leave as well. For Chicago. Primrose's dad is away and so her mom (my younger daughter) could use a little extra help. By late afternoon, I am in their big city home. (Do you get the sense that Chicago is a little behind Madison in letting go of Fall?)






I do a switch with the Chicago grandpa, taking over Primrose care for the rest of the afternoon.

The girl is 2.5 months older than Sparrow, which at this age is significant. She sits, is strong on her legs and vocalizes aplenty.






She is at once serious and playful.






And when it is evening and I know that her mom will be walking home from the train station, she and I set out to greet her. Once again, Primrose shows her love of stroller rides, even in the dark cold of a November evening.






A little play with mom...


 


... a bath, dinner, bedtime. The sweet girl needs it -- she is a little under the weather and we both hope it's one of those things that comes and goes quickly.

It's been quite the day! So lovely, from one night to the next. So very full.

good listening

Lately I have been impressed how talented kids are at listening. Teachers, parents and grandparents do remind little ones to put on their listening ears every now and then, but when those listening ears are on, they can hear! Every word. Reasoning as we all should reason -- with words and facts, rather than emotion.

Take Snowdrop. Yesterday, she told me (and I quote) -- gaga, eventually you are going to die.
This topic hasn't come up much here or at home, so I imagine she comes to it from school.
I admit that this is correct, though I add -- but not for a long long time.
Again, she must have heard exactly this addendum before, because she responds -- that's right. You'll die for a short time. And then you'll come back!

Here's another -- her teacher had said that people vote today and that it is very important to vote. Snowdrop needed clarification and her parents told her about the process of selecting leaders. She was jubilant when they said that they planned to vote.
I didn't think you could -- she explained. My teacher said you had to be 18 to vote. (She knew that they are not anywhere near that magic number.)



It is a wet election day here, in Wisconsin.






Wild hurricanes could not keep Ed and me from trudging out to vote. Soon after breakfast...






...We vote. It always surprises me how deeply emotional the act of voting is for me. Not because I approach the selection of candidates with emotion. But the mere act of taking part in this form of collective governance -- it is something that I do not take for granted. It matters. My hand is in the pot.  If it cannot be just exactly the kind of candidate that I want, well, that is part of the magic -- it shouldn't be any one person's choice. (Thank goodness!) Work on convincing the collective if you think they are straying. Then cast your vote.






Snowdrop asked if you can vote for yourself. My knee-jerk response would be "no," but in fact, you can! Forever in the annals of voting history you could have -- Snowdrop -- one vote. (Maybe more going forward! Who can tell!)






For the time being, I pick up a tired girl at school. By the time we are at the farmette though, she is peppy and flying.

I want to trim her bangs today. This gives her the idea that we should play hair salon with her babies. And with Ed. As always, her babies protest. Not Ed: he is most agreeable. Even when she takes scissors to his hair.












She sprinkles his hair with "flower dust" then moves on to the rest of her brood. And herself.






The afternoon cannot end without a Snowdrop story.






Today, I drive the little girl home so that I can catch up with her mom a bit. Once in the car, Snowdrop asks -- gaga, can I read in the car?
Of course. And once you learn to read everything, you can take any book with you to read in the car.
A police car wont stop us?
No, Snowdrop. You are allowed to read. As a passenger. 

I can only guess where this comes from: did she hear at some point a parent say "Snowdrop, we have to wait. We cannot send a message while driving. It's the law."


My daughter and I step out for a few minutes while the girl plays with dad and Sparrow continues a late afternoon nap.






We do not talk politics -- why should we. We both know each other's voting patterns. But there is a feeling of hope.

 I'll post now while that feeling stays with me. And now I'll go back to some good listening. There is much to be studied and understood in the hours before us.

Monday

No more grumblings about the cold! Looking ahead, I see the coming of the first Arctic blast. The chill of today is nothing! A mere drop in the winter bucket!

Grow those winter feathers quickly, cheepers!






On Mondays, my photos are nearly always abundant and child-centered. That's no surprise: my grandkids fill my waking hours -- the challenge is in balancing the photo taking between the two. Today, there is an even split: the morning photos belong entirely to Sparrow and the afternoon -- to Snowdrop.

Both kids had a rough start to their time here: Sparrow is doing another growth spurt ("I'm hungry all the time! Feed me! Feed me!") and Snowdrop had fallen into a deep sleep at school nap time. It was tough to wake her! But both kids rallied and gave us (me, Ed, each other) their best.

Let me break it down a little.

Sparrow is with us early. So early that I keep him busy playing for a while, giving Ed a chance to sleep a little longer.






Initially, he is in a calm mood. I push it by taking out a needle and thread to move some buttons around on his overalls, while he is wearing them. He is not pleased with my maneuvers. His protests wake Ed. You could say that Sparrow did the work for me: I was really hungry for breakfast. Someone had to wake the sleeping guy upstairs!

We all sit down to breakfast. ("Hey, speak for yourself! I'm not getting any of that yummy looking oatmeal!")






(This is his "what now, grandma?" look.)






Sometime in the late morning, Sparrow naps. He has somewhat of a rough wake up. I cheer him up by showing him his own reflection in the upstairs mirror.






It's not great weather for outdoor play. I try to explain to him that a carpet of golden maple leaves is both rare and beautiful. He listens, unconvinced.






(Here's Peach, ever hopeful. She's getting her feathers back and is laying right along with the young girls. The other older ones are still molting.)






There is nothing so thrilling as coming into a warm house after spending time in the windy and somewhat wet outdoors. Add to it a hearty lunch and life becomes utterly fabulous.






And now we flip the coin and focus on the girl: it's afternoon and Snowdrop is done with school. Her brother does us a tremendous favor and bounces patiently in his bouncy chair while I read her a couple of chapters of a new book. She is such a happy girl as a result.






Ready for play!






Gaga, I want to take some paper and measure the rubber ducks!
Okay...
And I want to teach my babies to measure.
Okay...
First you have to put the ducks here, draw a line...






(Her baby I'm told is struggling. Snowdrop is patient...)






This is when Ed comes in. He'd been working on collecting water samples from the pipes in the basement. Who knew that testing your water could be so complicated!

They share a few oranges and now he is heading out again and Snowdrop wants to go with him. It's lightly raining, but hey, that would not stop either one of them.

They're gone a long time. She wants to put something in the mailbox. He wants to put away the cheepers. They then pretend to be birds in a forest...






He tells her he loves the sound of rain, she tells him it's her very favorite sound too.







It is completely dark when the kids leave. They don't mind it. Stepping out into the night as colorful lights twinkle along the path before you can be somewhat magical, to a little girl, to a baby too.


At the farmhouse, I scramble some farmette eggs (we have so many!), steam up some veggies and toss a salad. I finish up a bubbly wine we'd opened yesterday. Ed and I settle in for a very peaceful evening on the couch.

watery Sunday

A wet wet day. The rain comes down, steadily (though not with much force). We stay indoors.

Breakfast is in the sunless front room.






I step outside only briefly...






Especially since we have much to do inside -- of the cerebral reckoning sort. In reading the NYTimes, I come across an article on well water contamination in Wisconsin. It's pervasive. We, of course, live on a former farm and we do have a well. It had been tested and it passed, mostly with flying colors, though with some small presence of nitrates. We put thoughts of well water aside.

Every now and then I would say -- we really need to have it retested. Last fall, I even went so far as to order the testing kit from the state lab. But, it's a complicated thing and I let it go. I mean, it's not as if cattle have roamed here in recent decades. (Which is a sorry excuse for inertia, but it worked for me. Nitrates remain my main concern.)

(To my credit, I buy bottled water for all kids who come to the farmhouse and for all pregnant moms who eat here. The only person who consumes lots of well water, daily, is me -- in my very numerous teas and coffees. The current wisdom is that adults are not affected by elevated nitrate levels, but of course, that's an ever changing piece of science. On the upside, the super duper hardness of our water is so healthy that one sip and you are on your way to a centennial birthday!)

Today, we decide to get with it. We prepare the tubes for testing. We fill out forms. Tomorrow morning we'll send the samples to the lab. It could be that we will have to install complicated filtration systems. Or maybe do nothing at all. We'll let the scientists decide.

(The farmhouse, fronted by the giant maples...)







In the evening, three out of four young family members come for dinner. (One has work commitments.)

Snowdrop is in love with predinner snacks. I'm kind of low on the usuals. Cheese and crackers? Sure. And that's about it. Gaga, do you have beets? Gulp... How about olives? Well...

She makes do.






In the meantime, Sparrow just laughs and laughs.






Dinner is special. The holiday season brings to our store (frozen) lobster tails. True, they are small (4 oz). But if you make pasta with tomatoes and asparagus, you can throw in a chopped up (4 oz)  lobster tail and have yourself a feast!






Baby Sparrow is wistful. One more month, little guy! Maybe not for crustaceans, but for some form of mush.





It's dark outside, of course. It was dark when they came, very dark when they left. You'll guess that it wasn't dark at all here at the farmhouse. Not at any time this week. Not at all.

Saturday

One could say that I do a lot for my kids. There is the care of grandkids -- I'll give them whatever time I have. And dinners -- I'll cook for them anything, whenever they want to come for dinner.  But of course, you could also argue that I'm not doing this just for them: I love them to pieces and being around them and their kids, makes me happy. So I do it also for myself.

But today, for a good half hour I thought -- I am so doing this one for my girl! Every ounce of me hates it, but I will do it, because she is my daughter and I love my girls oh so very much (one should note that she never asked for it, btw)!

Okay, all that was at 10:05 a.m.

Earlier, I fed the animals and admired the gorgeous farmette landscape.






And I had breakfast. With Diane, because Ed was still very much asleep.





Then, as Diane readied herself for her departure, I got on my moped and headed downtown for the farmers market. My girl loves the pesto sauce sold there. On this terribly cold day, I'm determined to get a few jars for her for the long winter ahead.

It is a brutal ride. I knew it right away, as I picked up speed along our rural road, but once I pointed that Rosie nose toward my destination, I could not turn back. I can do this! I can do this!

I think it may have been 100 degrees below zero.  I am so very windblown and cold. (But not so cold that I can't take out my camera while riding, to take this photo...)






Finally. I am at the market. I scoot around the perimeters. You're not going to see much fresh produce in November. But at Snug Haven Farms 9the place that supplies us with spinach all winter long), I pick up several bags of heavenly arugula.






And of course, I get the Renaissance Farms pesto.

And now I am finally back home. Beautiful, gold-bathed, farmhouse home.






It takes me several hours to warm up from that ride!


Eventually, Diane has to leave, The wind tosses around another batch of leaves, I shop for groceries, and finally, Ed and I retreat to the warmth of our little house for the evening.

It's quiet tonight. The kind of quiet that follows the wonderfulness of several very very chatter filled days.