Sunday - 240th

I imagine this is what November would be like if we lived, say, in Georgia. Warm, but not hot, plenty of sunshine. We're getting an insight into southern living without having to travel. Yes, once again, we're in for a beautiful day. Slated to climb up to 74F (23C) -- an unheard of reading for this date. Our average high is in the 40sF. Do the math -- we're off by some thirty degrees.

(A very pleasant morning walk, checking on the animals, then assessing what needs to be done out in the flower fields.)

Cold October nights did away with the last blooms. But you can still find secret survivors!

(Breakfast, with a couple of cats, on the porch.)

Whatever work I do in the garden now can be subtracted from my tasks come next spring. But one can't be overzealous. Some texture in the flower beds needs to remain in place for the winter. I snip away, but without drive, without great ambition. Just a little in each bed.

(And the sun plays on the last pockets of color, such as the peach tree with its golden leaves...)

 

In the afternoon, Ed and I search for nearby places to hike. Someplace where there aren't hunters with guns or bows and arrows. We try out Camrock Park, perhaps a half hour's drive to the east. I don't remember ever walking there, but of course, today any place is going to look stunning.

The trails aren't empty, and if it were up to me, I'd slap masks on most everyone we pass, but still, it's a sweet little walk.

And on the drive home: that fabulous Wisconsin sky.

As is now my routine, toward evening I cook up a dinner for the young family.

(Knock knock! Foods's at your doorstep!)

 

(The masked bandits!)

 

 

I cannot emphasize enough how peaceful the world had become for us here, at the farmhouse. The tumult, the counting, waiting, to say nothing of the even longer period of waiting as the campaigns unfolded -- it all ended this week. 

I'll light a candle, Ed will pop corn -- an evening seemingly like so many others. But not at all like the others. Not even close. 

Saturday - 239th

What a day! Unforgettable! And that's an understatement. The weather, the election, the kids, their families, the walks, the sunset. All stunning.

It's very late. I have many photos to sort through and they're important. They include the young family whom I haven't seen since... July.

Today was all about meeting up in the new reality of the pandemic. I was up early, I fed the animals, Ed came down for breakfast...

 

... and then I drove down to Raven Glen, a forest preserve just south of the Wisconsin - Illinois border. Illinois residents cannot travel to Wisconsin without having to quarantine afterwards, but I surely can go there for an outdoor, distanced, masked meetup with the younger family. A couple of hours in the car and I am with them again.

(On the drive down, I hear the election call. Calm restored!)

The rest of the day can be told in photos. Lots of them, because I see the little girl so rarely now! She should command today's space on Ocean. And she does.

 (A game of soccer...)

 

 

 

(The hike)

(The lake)

(The picnic)

 

(A day of unicorns...)

 

(And eventually, of distanced hugs)

 

(Last wave good bye...)

Sigh...

Typically, I spend Saturday afternoons reading outside with Snowdrop, but today I arrive late and only for a few minutes...

(A good zoom lens is my photographic best friend these days... No mask required for the minutes that we are outdoors, some twenty feet apart)

 

 

 (Anything closer and the mask goes on...)

 

(It's late and so I only stay a short while. Long enough to give my eager listeners an account of how Primrose is faring...)

  

By the time I drive home, the sun has almost set.

 

 

 

Still, as I pull in, I find an Ed, ready for an early evening walk. To count steps, sure, but mostly to review everything. To exhale, with gratitude for this most beautiful day. 

With love...

Friday - 238th

We listened, we watched, we did our own number crunching until 3 a.m., when it seemed no longer necessary to do so. Up at 7, looking elsewhere on the election map to crunch some more and then it was no longer necessary to do that either. But of course, by then, it was time to be up, with the animals, with the sunshine.

 

 With breakfast on the porch. 

So much will be said and written about the elections! I wont add anything to that discussion here. We survived, us two! And you did too, I hope. One big exhale and a return to calm. We so do love calm. What, you say it's not over? For us, it's over. Now please, can we get on with solving the mega problems that have overtaken our lives? We'll celebrate when we've made inroads. But no wine glass raised by our next president. He shares this with the current occupant of the White House: both claim they have never had a potent drink in their lives.

Excuse me while I get up and pour myself a glass of wine and digest that trivial fact.

Returning to my day now, let me just say that, despite the lack of sleep and the tiredness that follows nights like the ones I've been having, I did manage to work outside for most of the daylight hours, digging upwards of 100 holes to plant spring bulbs and move perennials around.

It was evening before I put the shovel down.

I will still have some planting to do next week. And clipping, if I feel like it. But the garden is almost winter ready. These drop dead gorgeous days have made outside work a total joy. It clears the mind and repairs any tears in the soul. You emerge satisfied and content. 

Tomorrow is another beautiful day. Unbelievable! So many in a row! I promise, I'll do something new and different with it!

Until then, with love...

Thursday - 237th

It's like we are stuck: weather's great, there are no election results, Covid stubbornly keeps up the climb to record numbers. In other words, Tuesday looks like Wednesday looks like Thursday.

The world has plenty of very patient people in it. I am not one of them. If I can avoid a passive wait, I will.  I tend to rush to fix problems and get rid of nuisances. I switch courses, I try something new, I'll cajole, I'll compromise, all with the hope of moving on.

But, my hands are tied. Can't change anything, can't move away from the impasse. These are not easy days for the non-waiters among us!

But hey, the weather! We're setting records! Warmest November 5th here ever. 72F (22C). How can you not love a November day that is as warm as the first day of summer?

I don't take many photos. I'm breaking in a camera slowly and the old one is feeling a little funky these days.  Besides, we are in our trance, our waiting bubble and so photography takes a back seat to... waiting.

Over breakfast, on the porch...

 

Afterwards, we return to our path building. Out front, by the entrance to the farmhouse, where the yellow maple leaves are as pretty as a field of daffodils. Well, almost.

And I do start in on my annual bulb planting! Most have arrived by now. In go the English bluebells, the Fosteriana and Aveyron tulips (please, animals, stay away from them!), the Erlicheer and Butterfly daffodils. Tomorrow, I'll do the rest -- a massive digging in of more daffodils, more tulips, snowdrops, crocuses and allium. 

 (Ed, shouting out updates...)

 

 

By late afternoon, I put away my shovel and my garden gloves and return to our living room cocoon, where Ed and I patiently wait.

Wednesday - 236th

When did night end and the day begin? And while I'm at it, when did the day end and sleep take hold? 

It's been a confusing set of hours. Many of us kept an eye on election results late into the night, or into early morning, going strong until we just gave up, because sleep is too powerful to fend off, except then night turned into morning light and suddenly we're all wide awake, wanting to know what happened?!

Dare I say this -- none of the past 24 hours was out of the blue, unexpected. Not the trickling results, not the waiting at night and waiting again today (and maybe the next day), not the tiredness on the day after. Like an ordinary election moment.

Even though, of course, it was anything but ordinary.

And here is something else that is unusual to the core: we have another splendid day of sunshine and warmth before us. How can the weather be this un-Novemberish!

I'll take it!

Morning walk, half awake, sort of...

 

(Dance follows me...)

And breakfast, again on the porch, just because we can!

 

And then Ed and I go out to work together on the project of building a quirky path toward the new farmhouse front entrance. It's Ed's idea and our joint execution.

 

We'll finish it tomorrow because guess what -- we are to be given another sublime day of good, very good weather!

This afternoon, Ed returns to his Wednesday night biking (in November, in Wisconsin!) and I take a short walk, thinking calm thoughts, wondering if we really are entering a new era of less in your face politics, or if we haven't yet reached our fill...

I'm hoping that it's the former.

(Dance, still playing the dog, as she follows me.  From back to front, then back again...)

 

Supper, at home, with a candle burning, and a smile on my face.

With love.

Tuesday - 235th

Did you know that today is election day in the U.S.? You did? Right, well most everyone knows this. Here, we have been talking about the 2020 races for years. And finally, at long last, it's November 3rd and we're all voting. Well, that's not true: most of us have actually cast our ballot some time ago. COVID messed with everything, including pushing many of us to vote from our couches. So, there is an election in that after today, you can no longer vote. 

But I spend very little time during the day thinking about this. There has been so much coverage of these elections (with good reason!) that I feel myself to be saturated. I know about the candidates, I know about strategies to victory, I know nearly everyone's opinion about everything. These days, people like to share. 

Now, I'm as interested in results as the rest of you, but you don't actually get any results on election day and so thinking about it does you no good. Your work is done. You voted (if you didn't, you better have a good excuse, possibly not too hard to find in a country that forces you to vote during a work day rather than, say, the weekend). Maybe you helped with a campaign effort, or simply posted your views on candidates everywhere you could think of. But now it's done. Go do something else!

And I did just that: I did something else, on what happens to be the most beautiful November day we have ever had here in south central Wisconsin. Sunny, with a high of 68F (20C)! Unbelievably gorgeous!

 

(cheepers, gathering at their water fountain...)

Sure, the day starts off on the nippy side. That's to be expected. But hey, the climb toward spectacular is fast. We eat breakfast on the porch!

 

Well, Ed pushed for that: the cats came begging for company.

Next, both Ed and I set to work outside. I still don't have my bulbs to plant, but I have plenty of snipping and path laying work to keep me busy. Off with the jacket. Off with the sweatshirt. It's warm!

And still later in the afternoon, I visit with Snowdrop. Outside, distanced, masked. 

With a mermaid. 

 

 

 

In escorting the little girl back to her home, I pause for a little while to catch up with everyone. Since the kids have shed their masks by now, we maintain a *very* distanced distance! That's why you have a zoom lens on cameras, right?

 

(The whole gang...)

As I post this, we are still sort of watching elections results. (Mainly by keeping tabs open on our computers while we lose ourselves in a horrible crime drama series on TV. Three gruesome episodes in a row. Nothing like other people's gore and pain to take your mind off of, well, you know, the election.)

Will we stay up? Sure. I have to say, I am reminded of all previous presidential elections. Oftentimes, we would party away. My cooking magazines would have election supper ideas for a crowd of ten or twenty.

This year, dinner parties are out and even if it weren't for Covid, I don't think people watching the results trickle in are feeling particularly giddy or festive.

Okay, back to our show now. And if I fall asleep while watching the n'th episode of The Tunnel, well then, just wake me up when this is all over.

With love...

Monday - 234th

Well, we did double duty today! The weather is supposed to be unusually grand this week, starting right about now! Because I am still waiting for a bulb delivery, I cannot finish up (or even begin) my planting of the spring garden and so Ed and I pick this day to treat ourselves to an outing -- about as far from home as the two of us have gone together for many, many months. A whole 45 minute drive up north!

But first, a morning farmette walk. It's cold. Freezing in fact. But the sun holds promise.You have to go with convincing predictions! It is going to be a fine day, I'm sure of it.

Breakfast...

And the usual Monday mucking around with life's essentials and then, at noon, we take off!

Our plan is to do not one, but two hikes, both along the Ice Age Trail. They wont have the Fall color anymore, but both hold great sentimental value: Ed and I have done them probably every Fall we've been together. 

First is our climb up the "Rock of Gibraltar." Yes, we do pass maybe half a dozen people on this rather popular trail, but they are spread over our 4500 steps, so you can be sure there was plenty of distance. (Yes, I'm still on a step counting roll and between the two hikes, today surely gave me an easy win!)

It's just such a pretty climb and of course, the views from the top are superb. Total Wisconsin.

A selfie, for sure!

 

What? You prefer one with a view toward something other than just us? Okay! On a timed release!

Our second hike isn't too far from the Rock: we pick up another segment of the Ice Age trail close to where the Merrimac Ferry crosses the great Wisconsin River. This trail takes us up the hill and through the woods...

... and then across a segment of a prairie that has been here since the glacier that covered the north and eastern part of the state, receded some 13,000 years ago.

Here, we are alone. We rarely pass anyone on this hiking trail. Just us, the sunlight, the birds, and the increasingly bare trees.

We end the day's outing with a ferry crossing. Just for the hell of it. There and back.

Last year on this day Ed was setting out into the Atlantic with his buddies to sail a boat south for the winter. My, have things changed since then!

 

 

It's nearly dark by the time we get home. Walked out, refreshed, hungry. Yes, there will be popcorn tonight after dinner. With chocolate. And a glass of wine.