Sunday, family Sunday

I'll start with the summary: it was a beautiful day. Sublime. Unreal in its magic.

It is, however, late now. Very late.

Still, such a beautiful day! Let me at least post some photos. They'll help me remember. As if I wouldn't otherwise!

Photos. In three chapters.
'
1. Farmhouse Morning


Primrose is up! I come in from cat feeding, we sit down to a prebreakfast breakfast. The day is off to such a good start!






The two young families are here for brunch.  Three young cousins, together.






So much to smile about, but nothing makes me happier than this: serving a good meal to all these people... listening to them around the table... Getting up to add this or the other thing to the meal...

This is the proper moment to tell everyone that October 20 is special for us: Ed and I plunged into what it is that we have now 14 years ago on this day. Later, I found out that it's also his birthday. Not that he takes note of the date. But I do and in the end, in a shy way, so does he.






Happy Birthday, happy anniversary, and yes, I'll put away the camera in a minute.






Kids get up, kids find comfy laps. Grown ups like to linger. Little ones think lingering is for the birds.






I suggest drawing. Each child is engaged in this activity in a different way. Sparrow is content to use crayons, Primrose wants to move on to markers, and Snowdrop is lost in a creation of her own...






Outside, the sun comes out. Isn't this a fine day to go out for a farmette walk??






Cousins.






The two families that make my heart sing...






Snowdrop suggests -- lets sit in the shade of this tree. We do.






I love this next photo from our farmette explorations. Taken in by the beauty of the moment, we linger. For a long while.






2. Do you want to go for a walk?

The young families scoot off.  Ed asks if I want to go to the county park. We've taken hundreds of walks together. It's our specialty! Selfie at the farmette first.






So much gold, just around a couple of corners from us.






Forest walk: we haven't really savored the autumnal forest this year!






Sandhills. Two. In love.






3. Happy day to you...

In the evening, we have a reduced crowd for dinner. 






When I mention Ed's birthday once more, Snowdrop asks to be excused, rushes to the drawing table, and produces a card. Which has to be wrapped of course.

You are good at fixing things, so I drew lots of hammers. And a chocolate cake!






She draws a second card. For the anniversary, even as it's hard to explain to a child what exactly happened fourteen years ago.

Or is it?

Ed would not have liked a celebration planned by me, or anyone else. Except if it's orchestrated by one of the kids.  It's okay then... More than okay.






Good night! With love...

Saturday little ones

Delays happen. You think of them as something that is part of air travel. But of course, mechanical issues can interfere with any mode of transportation. With the young family attending to car problems in Chicago, our morning here, in Madison, begins with crossed fingers: may everything work out well for them, and may they drive up without any more glitches, and before the rains come down on south central Wisconsin!

In the meantime, Ed and I have breakfast...






... and then I join my daughter and Snowdrop at the downtown Farmers Market. It's not so crowded now. People don't think of outdoor markets as being full of bounty in late October. But for us, there's plenty to buy still!

(apples...)






(pesto, cheese, beans, tomatoes...)






Me, I'm in it for the good company. I've done all the grocery shopping that will carry Ed along while I'm gone next week.





Back at the farmhouse, I see that Stop Sign is again at the porch door asking for food. Really? You just ate a while ago!

I watch her eat so hungrily... And then, on a hunch, I follow her once again. This time she goes to the garage.

Four.

Four little kittens.






She has brought with her the little flock we always suspected she hid somewhere across the road.






This is a huge challenge -- for us and of course, for them. There's much to be scared of: other cats, chickens, people. It doesn't help that Stop Sign is just as skittish, untrusting (except of Ed and me). Yet, if they give in to their fears, they'll be crossing that road all too often.

But how do we protect them? There isn't a chance in hell that Stop Sign and her four newest babes (and thankfully her last litter) will join the eight sheep shed cats in a peaceful and harmonious fashion.

Should we warm up the porch some? Surely these littlest guys are deserving of protection! Does anyone want to adopt some little kittens???



And in the afternoon, we see that luck is with us! The young family with their sweet Primrose pulls up, ready to head out with us to the pumpkin patch! But first, a look around, and a snack.













Pumpkin patch! It's a grand outing and only time and in the end a few sprinkles keep us from taking it all in. I'm posting a bounteous handful of photos, because, well, there are three kids and wonderful parents and it's October and how often do you find us all in a pumpkin patch anyway?!


(tractor pulls wagon with straw bales and those wanting a ride...)






(which pumpkin? how about this one??)






(Sparrow likes this one... I've noticed the little guy really does like yellow...)






(it was a very long and convoluted drive from Chicago, but we are all so glad you three are finally here!)






(the band of cousins, redoux!)






(pumpkins, corn stalks, pumpkins)






(a Sparrow accomplishment: he walked the whole way there and back)






(I know this to be true -- I adore all these guys!)






(loving the walk!)






(a snack at the pumpkin patch shed)






In the evening, the rain does come down, but we don't mind. We drive out to Pizza Brutta for a beautiful family supper...






I sit across the table from my two daughters and I half listen to their conversation. They have a tone of voice that I hear only when they speak to each other. It's full of kindness and a desire to be good to the other. It's funny, it's serious, it's personal. It's full of love.





Their spouses, their kids, they're all in this together. Little ones, feeding off the warmth and wisdom of their parents.


When you're old enough to be a grandma, you notice these things and if you're like me, you thank your stars every minute you're alive for your young ones, indeed, for all the good young people in this world who try so very hard to make this place a kind and loving home for everyone.

Friday

Here's something terrific that I learned today: I don't need crutches to hobble along for the next few months. My doc was convinced that I had a fracture. He was wrong. Whatever challenges I'll have this winter -- they wont include slip sliding around with child under one arm and crutch under the other.

What other news? Let's see... I worked on getting the house together for the weekend, for the month, for the visitors, for Ed.

And we ate breakfast.






As it's Friday, in the afternoon I pick up just Snowdrop (Sparrow goes home with dad). I find her in her class hurrying to finish a painting...





How I love these preschools that give my grandkids such a broad array of learning opportunities and creative outlets! How I wish this was available to all kids everywhere...

As we drive up to the farmhouse, I notice that the gusty winds have taken down one of our signs warning of animals at play. Ed! Help us out here!






How many times do I ask Ed to "help us out here?"  In the case of the sign, I wanted to point out to Snowdrop that we could easily do the fix ourselves: a little wire, a good branch... But still, the little one has long ago figured out that Ed is better at fixing broken stuff than I am. The next challenge: to teach her to be more like him than me.





The evening is calmer than we had expected or wanted. The young family from Chicago set out to visit and shortly into the trip they developed car trouble. Ah well. We will see them tomorrow. A busy day it will be! But hey! No crutches!

ants in pants and mice in mouths

We're coming upon a confluence of important (in my view) events: tomorrow the young family comes up for the weekend. They leave Sunday. I leave Monday, I come back Sunday, Ed leaves Wednesday, the holidays are upon us shortly after. In between, there are the awesome twosome here each day after school.

It makes for an interesting set of days.

We start in on the day early. I feed the cats, noticing that there is a bloody trail inside -- another hunt at night must have netted a chipmunk or mouse. Dance in fact is out at this moment. When I call her, she shows me another mouse dangling from her mouth. A hunt for the challenge if not always the food. Dance drops her catch and follows me to the sheep shed for real food, leaving me to take care of burial rites.

After, I have this bone scan, fitted into the schedule because no Badger team member had come into the clinic with a training injury today. The scan will tell me how much freedom of movement I'll have in the days ahead. I suspect I'll face some recovery limitations, but hey, I'm just guessing. I really have no idea. I may wind up with crutches before the week is through. There will be adventurous adjustments no matter how you slice that pie!

Ed and I go to Finca Cafe following my appointment. I am always so happy there: the music, the floor to ceiling windows on three sides, the lovely people who work behind the counter, the fireplace. You don't have to work at hygge when you're there -- it enfolds you into the community of cafe people in the pleasant aroma of good coffee and baked quesadillas.






At home, I hurry through chores. The last bulbs to plant, Ed's hair to cut and beard to trim, seeding the young orchard meadow, posting signs warning of cats and chickens at play -- these are musts on my list. We get to most of them.

(haircut for Ed: one of my better ones...)






In the early afternoon, I pick up the kids. I have an agenda for us and I count on them to help me meet the demands of the afternoon. And they do. Cheerful and cooperative, happy and playful.

(first stop -- coffee shop. How many times have I taken Snowdrop here! Well, today, I take both.)




















(Bangs trim for Snowdrop. They do it for her at Bang Salon, right by the coffee shop)






Farmhouse, at last!

(A game of "orange catch" with ahah)






Sparrow still loves being held, but he'll substitute that for a long (handheld) walking session most anytime. And here's another sweet thing about the boy: He loves to come up for the reading of a chapter from Snowdrop's book, even though we're sure he understands very little. He's a sweet presence on the reading couch.

(On the floor again, they sometimes do get lightly in each others way. He wants what she wants, she wants what he wants...)






It's dance day for Snowdrop and I haven't yet figured out an easy way to transport everything and everyone punctually to dance class. I mean, we make it on time, but toward the end of the run to class, I'm holding Sparrow as if he were a slippery hotdog leaving my grasp.

(Dance class)











And in the evening, the very late evening, I bake a rock fish with olive oil mayo, kefir, pickle juice and parmesan cheese. Bizarre? No, just my own take on a fisherman's recipe from the fish shares that we receive from Alaska each month.


My eyes stay open for the meal, for the posting, but just barely. The next goal: get a decent amount of sleep. It's now or not for a long time!