Monday

Neither of us wanted to get up and get going today. But, you can't always do what you want and so early in the day, before the cheepers are let loose, Ed and I are outside, setting up the Have-a-Heart trap and, too, a pet carrier, baiting it with the cats' morning meal, and waiting at the sidelines to pull a string. We want to get those barn cats (or more accurately, garage cats) to the vet.

Well, let me not glorify my role in this: Ed set up the mechanisms, and he did the string pulling. I just shouted "now!" when a couple of the kitties entered the wired cage.

It wasn't a fun project.

After closing the door on the cage (with Dance and two kittens screaming inside), we weren't sure we could get anyone into the pet carrier, but one did enter it and so now we have a total of three kittens and one Dance ready to be taken to the vet.

Again, Ed does the drive and delivery. I stay behind and try to talk calmly to the remaining three kittens (they are more used to me than they are to Ed), but honestly, they're not dumb: they smell danger. They're keeping to the sidelines for now.

Did I snip flowers? Oh, a little bit. Here and there.






(so pretty ...)






The garden is still lovely, but honestly, our preoccupation today is with getting these cats clipped, snipped and vaccinated.

Still, just a few flowers...






I set up our breakfast on the porch...






But by the time Ed is back from delivering the cats to the vet, I have only a few minutes left (I have morning appointments) and so we eat a very hurried meal.

Our challenge now is to catch the three kittens without getting the soon-to-be fixed kittens into the mix. We try this evening to set up their food inside borrowed pet carriers. But all this happens later, much later. After a quick trip to the disc golf fields to take our minds off of cats...

(sandhills... so stately, so serene...)


 


... and after I have my lovely play time with Snowdrop.

(school flowers...)






(farmette flowers...)






(she asks if she can nibble on a petal... I tell her she can try an edible plant, like the nasturtium; she tastes it. Verdict? Too spicy!)






And what result with the remaining three kitties? Well, the pet carrier was set up with food inside. But only one kitten went in at a time and so Ed closed the door on her/him and gave up on the remaining two, at least for today. There was some urgency in getting this one kitten to the vet because the clinic was soon to close and, too, s/he managed to wrap string around her neck in the struggle to get out.

What's the bottom line? Dance and three kittens are spayed and vaccinated, one more kitten is waiting for treatment tomorrow, two are still running around chasing each other, and of course there's the grand mama of them all -- Stop Sign, who hasn't been around for a while and so is not currently in our reach.

(the two kittens left behind, wondering where everyone went...)






(The three little ones that returned were promptly placed for the night in the sheep shed bathroom.)

We let Dance out by the garage, just in case she is still nursing her babes (the vet couldn't be sure). She immediately came to me and rubbed her cheek against my legs. I was touched.

It's been quite a day.

Sunday

It is tough to think small thoughts about pretty flowers when the news turns your stomach, but one must try. This is the time to remind yourself of some of your imperatives (to lead a kind, compassionate life that builds on all the beauty that this planet has to offer, to remain calm and positive, because if you are, then others around you are likely to remain that way too). And so once more, this morning, I turn my attention to the farmette's fields of flowers.

I snip off only 490 lily heads. That's less than half than a week or so ago. And so it is time now to stop counting and to look at the garden in a new way. I demand less of it and still, I am richly rewarded, because the fact is that with age, it all looks so very sweet and gentle.






It doesn't fire you up like, say at its peak. It soothes your soul and reminds you that the passage of time doesn't have to be your foe.


















Breakfast. Late, because after I work outside for about an hour, I go back to bed and drift in and out of sleep for a good while longer. I never do that! But today, it seemed like a fine idea.







Afterwards, Ed nudges me to get on my bike. Since we have an errand to run -- picking up corn at Stoneman's farms -- we bike over there. It's a 14 minute ride each way, for the best, freshly harvested that morning, sweet corn.

Perhaps you recall from previous posts -- they keep goats there in the summer. For the children who come here... Or, for any goat loving people. Like us, the goatless duo.

Here's a reason to be happy about not having goats: they do eat... everything. My dress, for example.






Here's a reason to be wistful: they are affectionate.






Evening: the young family comes for dinner. They'd spent the afternoon swimming, so both kids are tired...






... and hungry.






Nothing that a rest, a pitchfork, and good snuggle couldn't cure!











Dinner sillies: is it okay to show feet for the photo?






Snowdrop, on her third ear of corn!






Out with Ed to feed the chickens and cats...






Much later, Ed and I walk the farmette lands. The sky is exquisite. You can see the faint blur of a bat against the very pink clouds.






A summer day. Like it should be. For everyone.

Saturday

Everyone slept well last night. The kids, the grownups, presumably the animals. This is most unusual: with little ones, someone is always a little off schedule. With grownups as well: oh! I shouldn't have had that extra cup of coffee, or another helping of wine, or that extra hour at the computer! It's too hot, too cold, too much stress, too much to do -- you know, the usual regrets you have in the middle of the night.

But not so last night. At the farmhouse, the windows were open wide, the breezes were cool, the sun filtered into the room at just the right hour.

It is August alright: I'm slowing down with my morning garden work. If July is lily care time, August is sit back and let it do its own stuff time. Oh, sure, I still spent an hour early today trimming and snipping, but I am noticing more and more lily stalks empty of buds. This is it for you, my dear! The last bloom until next year.

(There are exceptions. For instance, these lilies would beg to disagree!)











A person who is meticulous about her flower beds would plant for all three seasons: spring, summer and fall. Me, I concentrate a little on spring, a lot on summer (especially July), and not much on fall. And so I'm nearing the last stages of the flower beds' riot of color. And that's okay: there's plenty to admire in the garden come late summer and fall. Abundance can be found in places other than the flower fields.

(Cheepers, racing out of the barn in the morning!)






Breakfast...






And then I meet up with Snowdrop and her mom for our farmers market outing.

(Success! I have finally managed to keep a "cherry earring" on a granddaughter for longer than three seconds!)






(The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence...)






(Shoes off!)






(Snowdrop loves to dramatize her facial expressions for the camera. Case in point.)







By early evening, we get the rains! Fleeting but heavy. Ah well, the ground needed a quick soak. What's August without a late day storm!

Friday

A string of sunny days. The kind of weather we once took for granted, before it was tabled and replaced by something more extreme. But today, we're back with bright, warm sunshine. And no, I am not taking it for granted!

It's true that you do not need to roll out the hose when spring and the first part of summer have drenched the soil so thoroughly. Except for watering flower tubs, this year I haven't had to stand for hours soaking the flower beds.

But I have spent a lot of time cleaning off spent flowers. And I do that again today. Nearly two hours of yard work, all before breakfast.

I think to myself: how many books might I have read in the time I've given over to snipping flowers? How many stories might I have written? But the more honest side of me retorts -- and how many more discouraging news stories would I have read on the internet? How many pointless trips to Amazon might I have made?

And here's another fact to consider: summer mornings are exquisite. The light plays in lovely ways on the flower beds, changing them dramatically with each minute. I'm glad I've been a witness to it.























(the roving cat food bowl...)






(where did the cat food go??)







In northern Europe, where I lived for so many years, winter mornings are dreadful. Dawn is so late that working people will have completed their commute before the first wisp of sunlight hits the pavement. But in the summer, the light is with you there, as it is here and each morning is simply sublime.











Breakfast. After 9.






If it's Friday, I must grocery shop.

After, a quick break for a coffee...






... and off I go to claim Snowdrop. She is tired in the way that she always is tired when the day has had endless time in the playground and a morning at the community pool, to say nothing of the usual school thisis and thats. So as always, when she asks to pick a flower at the farmette, I acquiesce.






So many blooms! The garden can spare one.






She places it in her little collection of this week's pickings...






... then proceeds to get her own snack -- same thing as always (cherries, a tiny ice cream sandwich, cheddar bunnies), arranged in the same place on the orange couch, where she loves to snuggle as we make our way through chosen books for the day.

There's a little time to play still. I am amused that she has returned to toys she hasn't touched for years. Primrose and Sparrow have refocused her attention on them. Young Lego sets! With lots of kid characters to make her stories exciting! (See the pitchfork leaning against the barn? This is Sparrow's absolute favorite toy in the world. When he comes to the farmhouse, he makes a beeline for the playroom, searching everywhere until he finds it. We cannot understand the attraction!)






In the late late afternoon, I drive Snowdrop home. I linger there for a while, because beautiful days and gorgeous evenings call for lingering.












At home again, Ed and I open every window within reach. Evenings are wonderfully cool. The farmhouse is taking in big gulps of summer air. And so are we.