Friday - 84th

I've come to the conclusion that on busy days, no matter how early you get up, you never get everything done anyway, so you may as well sleep in. I wish I had followed that advice today, but in a naive effort to get ahead of myself, I gave up on sleep at 5:30 and began my day then.

I had no choice, really. I needed tortillas. But they seem to go like hotcakes because every time I put them in "my cart," they disappear. Sold out by the time of delivery. At midnight, I spot them  on the virtual shelves of my grocery store. So I quickly put in an updated grocery list, for delivery at 6 a.m. I figure it would not be possible for them to sell out, given that the store's closed for the night. Click. Order in.

Unfortunately, there is to be a confluence of events at that early hour: the grocery delivery, a drive-by drop off by our local farmer Aggie (she is selling us her prize sweet slicer cucumbers) requiring us to leave her a check, and finally -- a storm. All three at the same time. I had to be up and about to juggle it all. And as long as I am up, I should feed the animals and oh, that tiger lily -- aka ditch lily -- is invading my true day lily bed again, so I must dig it up and transplant it to some remote corner of the farmette lands (Ed does not like it when I ditch the ditch lilies).

In other words, it is a hellaciously busy morning.

Not so busy that I would ignore the garden!

(A Big Bed view...)






(You cannot forget about our second lilac -- the late bloomer. Its position is to the side, but its fragrance is nonetheless fantastic!)






(Perhaps our most floriferous peony -- right in front of the lily bed.)






(A pretty sight as you come up the driveway...)







Foods washed, cucumbers delivered, animals fed, lilies transplanted, storm never made it our way. Ed and I eat a quick breakfast on the porch. We briefly discuss the value of a liberal arts college education (it's always interesting to hear the perspective on this of a mechanical engineer) and then I note that it's late, except I have one more detail (mom related) to take care of and now I'm really late.

But, never mind: all's forgiven. I show up at my daughter's house for a day of play with Primrose and her two cousins.






This is what we did today:

(Always the frolic!)






(A walk to Stricker's Pond)











(With a run and a chase out on a big field...)











(Deck play)











And in the later afternoon?

(Primrose with aunt...)






(A tower, built mainly by Primrose, with Sparrow's experimental assistance...)






(So... how do we play baseball? Like this?...





... or is it more like this??)






I stay for a dinner of grilled foods. There is a beautiful selection of burgers, brats, and hotdogs, along with beyond burgers for the diehard no-red-meat-ever people. For a minute I am tempted to jump ship. Ed and I no longer grill stuff and of course, we're not red meat eaters but that doesn't mean that on that rare occasion that someone offers it I am not tempted.

Still, there is a cultural grip on us all that we too often fail to acknowledge, let alone understand. Having, myself, rejected the idea of (red) meat, it's hard to not feel weird eating it. With a sigh, I settle for the beyond-meat burger (a plant based burger for those who haven't been following this stuff).



Pulling into the driveway of the farmette, I take in the majesty of this weeks blooms.


 


And then I come inside. I tell myself I really have to do better in the sleep department. This simply means that I should go to sleep before midnight, but that really is not possible because, well, the evening is the time to catch up with the news, to put my feet up, to eat popcorn with Ed.

But no more predawn wake ups. Really, no more! (A promise I'm not likely to keep.)

Thursday - 83rd

Hot, summer weather is with us still. I'm up early. Peonies: it's all about the emerging peonies out there...






And irises. Don't forget about the irises.






Lots to fix, organize, get ready. Primrose will be spending the day at the farmette. It's a perfect time for it, though I could do without the emerging summer bugs. Buzz, zap! I move many of the day's planned activities onto the porch. The cats are very unhappy about having their access blocked for the day. Sorry guys, make do!






Snip irises, start fixing breakfast, oh! She's here!






She has eaten already, but she joins Ed and me for the morning meal.





And then we plunge into play.

Like all the kids who pass this way, Primrose is drawn to the toy foods -- cakes, veggies, fruits, pastas, pizzas -- over the years they've all been added to the stash.






And like all the little ones, she is so very happy when I offer her the wading pool.






Each child plays differently in water. She is into the mechanics of transport. And food delivery.





As she plays, she, like Snowdrop, hears the amplified sound of birds. And like Snowdrop, she asks -- what's that?
It's the birds, talking to each other: want some food? want some food? Yes please, yes please! Yummy yum yum! Chiiiiiirp!
And like Sparrow, she is concerned when a loud construction truck rumbles by. Sometimes I think we who live here stop listening to the sounds all around us. But when you're weeding, snipping spent flowers, or sitting in a wading pool, you hear it all.

And from here, it's a short stroll to the sandbox!






(Hold on, I need to get you a sun bonnet!)


 



Oh, but it's hot! It feels like a beach day, where you've slobbered on the sun screen and now you're all sandy and it's all sticking to you. Well, we have the tools for sand removal. No kid objects to being showered off with a hose.

Inside again, cooled off, ready for more play all the way until lunchtime. Her mom comes down from her sequestered work space (a bed in the lemon guest room) and I whip up a frittata.






Primrose loves veggies: you tell her there's spinach inside and she positively sparkles!







Naps, books, more play... Hey, is someone climbing on my back??


 



(picking peonies for the dinner table...)






And then the older family comes here for a farmhouse dinner.






(Dessert: yogurt bars and watermelon. Which would you eat first?)











The kids have less space to cavort in the farmhouse, but they manage. Oh, but who can doubt that these three are best friends!






They leave soon after dinner. The bedtimes are always late during these visits and the kids are tired. But a wonderful, beautiful tired after a day well spent. The kind of day each and every one of us deserves to have. No fuss, no clamor or great to-do. Just sharing a day, a meal, with the people you love.

(Evening peonies)

Wednesday - 82nd

The storms came at night, the winds howled, the rain lashed out at everything in sight and still, we wake up to another hot day. Summer hot.

Up early. Lots to do. Fussy animals, little biting bugs in the air, wet greenery. But it's all so beautiful anyway!











Do laundry, order groceries. Family visit was moved to this earlier date and so I am catching up at preparedness!

Breakfast on the porch. (He's bending down to give Dance a rub.)






And then I'm off to my older girl's home where three grandkids are having a field day exploring the possibilities of cousin play, even as the parents desperately seek to log in some work hours.






Okay, I have this hidden take charge drive that clicks in at times of stress. Run the bath water, hustle two kids into the tub, then out we go before it becomes too hot for us to enjoy outdoor play!











Indoor time follows. The cousins are significantly into each other and so there's no need to forge paths to a considerate and good-natured play. And of course, for Primrose, this visit offers all forms of new adventures, all the more exciting after a long period of lockdown at home with just her parents.






Eventually, there are the lunches, the naps, the quiet times and then we pick up where we left off.











I stay for a pizza dinner. Inside, because it is still so hot.


 


Then I must rush home. Groceries for family dinners are being delivered at 8 and they include ice cream and it's still beastly hot even though the sun has yet to set. And I manage to squeeze in a quick mow of the paths, just in case a child wants to romp outside in the next day or two or three. Ed is out biking and so I heave the big tractor mower out of the barn and get to it.


Back in the house now. Our air conditioning clicks on. Groceries came, I washed, put away, washed some more.

It's very late by the time Ed is home and we settle down for an evening of pop corn.

Summer arrived with a bang, even if the calendar tells me it's only the third day of June. (Peonies are the stars in the first week of this month!)





I track it all -- the garden, the blooms, the bugs, even as right now I'm one foot in the world of news and the other -- solidly entrenched in my orbit of kids and grandkids. We are all healthy, all here and unharmed. We are among the lucky. We know it. We feel deeply for those who are anything but lucky right now.

Good night, with love.

Tuesday - 81st

The days are going to be full. For Ocean, I predict fewer words, more editing oversights, and perhaps less focused writing. Judging just by this day, there wont be the time for more thoughtful blogging. But hey, short texts have their virtues! Instead of reading many paragraphs, you look at the photos and take in the entirety. Never mind detail. Focus on the mood instead.


(Irises by the driveway...)






So, take this second day of June. It's hot. A high of 90F (32C). Is it a sign of what lies ahead for us this summer? The morning is also chaotic. Animals are hard to herd. One kittie is missing, Chickens spend a good part of the day underneath Ed's car. One cat finds joy in playing with a dead squirrel, another deposits a mouse on our pathway.

Ed and I eat breakfast on the porch...






I'm waiting for a grocery delivery. It's late because some of the city's streets are closed off by protests. Understandable, but I am supposed to be at my daughter's for morning childcare. When the food does come, I do the fastest possible cleaning job before heading out to her place.

Kids. First just the two of them.






(I spend a lot of time trying to keep neat what they so artfully take apart.)











And then I return to the farmhouse, finish the grocery scrub, take a deep breath and drive back to the young family's home. And now the younger family has arrived from Chicago. I enter a scene of utter excitement and joy.






Finally, not on FaceTime anymore.






The younger couple that I've missed so so much!






This morning, there were two (kids). Now they are three.






We eat dinner there (my son-in-law cranks up his pasta machine) ...


 


(summer weather popsicle)






... as this will be home base for both families. It's not vacation time yet and so I'll be busy keeping kids out of parental spaces in the next few days. But, for now, on this evening, work is far from anyone's mind. Swing high, feet up... I leave them like this.






I drive home, to my bursting gardens...


 



... and to the farmhouse, where Ed waits with popcorn in the popper. I tell him about the evening. He listens. Eyes half closed, I finish my post.

With love.