Saturday tour de Madison

No, I did not ride my bike up and down the streets of our city. Nonetheless, I felt like a sprinter, albeit with a motor pushing her forward along the bumpy streets of Madison.

The thing is, we had a lot heaped onto our morning. For me, the day starts, as always, in the flower fields.

(Hey, how about feeding the cats? Shouldn't it start with feeding the cats??)

 

 

(The tall lilies are starting to bloom. To me, they look like a waterfall of graceful stems and flowers...)

 

 

I work quickly and efficiently. 

(In this field, the phlox begins to dominate right about now!)

I no longer count snipped lily heads. I want my brain to clear itself of clutter. I want to enjoy the stretch for that distant lily, the brush with dew dappled leaves. I want to think about what photo to take.

(I love it when one petal's color runs from pink, to peach, to tangerine sherbet, to yellow...)

So I don't count. (But there are many!) 

 

 

 

The day is hot from the get go. As Ed says -- it's not the rising temps, it's the high humidity that makes it all seem so stuffy! Still, we turn on the fan and eat breakfast on the porch.

And now comes the motorbike ride from one corner of Madison to the next. We have three stops to make today. First, the big market downtown.

I need flowers, I need mushrooms. Nothing I can get outside the market will come close to the value and quality of what I buy there! And with Ed steering the bike, we can creep up on the stalls we want from the back and avoid the crowds. Because there are crowds. 

From there, it's a bumpy ride to the Lakeside Cafe where we do not pick up coffee, but instead we get our weekly bag of direct farmer purchases. Today it's all about blueberries. And a rosemary plant, because I am just about ready to give up on my monster rosemary which I lug indoors for the winter, watch it grow out of control in all directions, drop most leaves, then rejuvenate itself somewhat outdoors during the summer. It's too misshapen, too large, too unmanageable. So I bought a baby newbie.  We'll see if I'll have the courage to throw the old one into the compost heap at the end of the summer!

And now more bumps, twists and turns as we make our way to my mom's place. She needs a computer adjustment and I need to hang some pics on her walls. It's a good day to get this done so we set to it.

My mom is doing well in the new place. I'm not surprised. It's as good environment for her. She has her independence even as the essentials are provided for her. If Covid did anything good at all, one could say that it did her the favor of opening up a spot so that she could move into this particular senior living facility.

And finally, with me still clutching my market flowers and hoping that the blueberries don't turn into mush as we navigate the next bump and dance the next road jiggle, we head home. 

Normally, Saturday afternoons are quiet around here. The pace is definitely slower, the list of chores smaller. But, from the beginning, this day was a bit of a race to get things done and one thing I must still do is get ready for Snowdrop's overnight visit. As cousins and aunts and uncles passed through town and stayed with us at the farmhouse, the little girl kept asking when she could come for a sleepover once again. (She used to sleep here frequently, but the coming of brothers and Covid messed up that pattern. Today, we're back on track!)

We read, we play. These days she is really consumed by "My Little Ponies" -- stories, movies, little pony figures for her imaginative play.

 

It seems that when grandkids stay here, we're always flipping pizza pies. Today is no different. In for the final stretch...

But though she wants to help, I'd say that the job of building that pie is less exciting for her than it was, say, for Primrose. Will Snowdrop love to cook someday as much as I have loved fussing with food all my life? Impossible to predict. Today, after making sure her help wasn't essential to the task, she opted to retreat to the living room and have a pillow fight with Ed as I put the finishing touches on the pizza.

We watch a movie. With popcorn. And we catch an Olympic medalist on the screen. What can I say, it was an exciting evening!

I suppose there is something uniquely special about waking up in the little lemon room. The kid bed is right by the window and each child who sleeps there quickly figures out that a tug at the curtain will open up for them a view like no other -- flowers, chickens and a noisy rooster. Willows and birches moving with the wind, should there be a morning breeze. But that's tomorrow. For now, all is quiet as a child sleeps, I pour myself a glass of white wine from the Lake Garda region of Italy and we all let out a deep sigh of summer contentment.

so hot...

 It was so hot that for the first time, when the kids said to me "we're ready to leave the pool..." I responded -- oh, come on! Five more minutes!

The cool water felt as magnificent as a hot shower might be on a cold winter day: the perfect wet remedy to a body in need of a temperature adjustment.

That we were at the public pool was a bit of an unusual Friday event, but I'm not complaining! First, though, came the garden care.

And breakfast. On the porch, but we sit strategically to avoid any stray sunbeam.

Ah, now for the pool!

(But first, we have to wait a bit while they "clean out the pool." With this being young kids swim morning, I can only imagine what this means.)

(No matter how many whistles you blow and reminders you shout out, it's so difficult for kids not to run by a pool!)

When I was last here with them, Sparrow was shy about venturing out far and Snowdrop, too, liked a hovering adult. But after a month or so of lessons and nearly daily swims in their own local pool, they are in their element. Shallow, deep -- they love it all.

(Splash! So refreshing...)

Afterwards, we retreat to the farmhouse. 

 

(Hungry!)

 

 

(Sparrow is not at all a Dennis the Menace type, except maybe for the hair today after his shower.)

 

 

No one wants to spend time out in the yard. Hot! Only toward the end of the visit can I get them to at least pick the favorite flower of the day. For Snowdrop -- another pink phlox.

For Sparrow -- a false sunflower.

And for Sandpiper? Back at home, too young to express his preferences.

(With mommy now, listening to a song...)

Hot day today. Nothing out of a July normal, except for the absence of rain. In the evening, I roll out the hose. Snip, water, snip, water. Peaceful and restorative, for both the flower fields and me.

And yes, I watched the parade of nations from the Summer Olympics. I mean, come on! These athletes have had a hell ride this past year. I've always liked the Olympic Games for all that coming together stuff and of course, for the individual excellence that I so admire. This year, the Olympics are both weird and magnificent and perhaps a bit too bold and nervy. But I'm watching. Not all, not even half, perhaps not even a hundredth, but enough to remind me that there's a lot of talent in this world. And emotion. Imagine!

 

warming up

We're not getting the heat waves plaguing the west, but it's definitely warming up and the soil in the flower beds feels very dry. Nobody can say that we are past drought worries. In the next few days, I'll have to decide if I should let my flower beds go for the year (tempting), or whether I should keep them active and producing by giving them all a good soak.

For now, things look good, but this wont last if we don't get rain (or if I don't work the hose) soon...

My snipping this morning was interrupted by a phone call from a little girl asking shyly if there was any way that she could come over. Parents were temporarily without cars, so we'd suspended the regular Thursday farmhouse visit. That was a mistake. Of course I can do a pick up! Only, I hadn't eaten breakfast yet...

No problem! She'll join us for breakfast!

(me: if you could stand in front of your favorite flower, which would it be? Snowdrop: there are so many... maybe this one?)

(a new fairy on a flying unicorn came to live here...)

(preparing breakfast: three people, three different cuts of peaches...)

(on the porch: patient with Dance)

(breakfast at last! she says yes to a left over pain au chocolat...)

(in cleaning up in the kitchen, after breakfast, I'm thinking: that is one good view out the window!)

(When it's time to go home, she does her usual sprint to the tree...)

(and as always, a pause to sniff the phloxes!)

(Meanwhile, back at the house, we have the boy who really likes his home, especially since Covid...)

Thursday is market day for us and today is no exception.

But here's a first (well, if you look back to the last couple of years...): loaded with our market and CSA acquisitions, we climb on the motorbike and head to downtown Madison for a dinner out. 

Honestly, I cannot even remember when Ed and I last ate out at all, let alone at Brasserie V -- our go-to Madison eatery. I tried looking back at Ocean posts,  putting "moulles frites" into the search box and a post from Sorede popped up: we ate mussels and fries on the town square after a day on the beloved (by me) Franqui beach. June, 2011. I know we've eaten moulles frites since then, but not last year and not the year before because, well there was Covid and before that there was the winter and I don't like going out much when it's dark and cold outside.

Tonight did not feel dark and cold. Since we dined outside, it felt like Sorede.

(taken by a propped up camera: he's with cider, I'm with a bubbly rose)

We're not in a hurry to dine inside yet, but that could be because it's so lovely to eat outdoors. A little bit like in France, where tables crop up without much care as to the view or the street noise: it's food and it's outside and that's enough!

It felt enough for us!

Miraculously and gratefully vaccinated against a killer disease. Eating at a restaurant again. Makes you want to weep.

with love...

staying put

I asked my Polish friends on a Zoom call today (there were 8 of us) how many missed travel and would love to go somewhere to see the world. Only one raised her hand. It's not that no one in that group travels: most have been to places you and I wouldn't even consider going to. Ever. And some do necessarily travel to see kids who live far away or pursue a sport they've loved all their lives (skiing, kayaking). But only one had any curiosity about travel in its own right. To see some place or to be somewhere other than home. And since this wasn't always their mindset, I have to say I'm going to blame age. All but two have passed 70. At this age, home seems better than the alternatives.

The funny thing is, the effort required for getting to new and culturally or geographically different places is lesser for a Pole than it is for an American. Distances within Europe are just not that great. You don't have to fly to get anywhere, but if you do fly, you're really cutting travel time to a short couple of hours. At most. Here, by contrast, distances are huge, public transportation is limited, and you can't get to another continent unless you take a boat or a plane. It's expensive, it's complicated. Add to it age (without even delving into covid issues) and you have the ingredients of a stay-at-home future. At least for my cohort of people. 

So am I nearing the time when I, too, will only go someplace if there are family reasons to do so? Am I shortening my range? I detected an attitude of "I've seen all that I want to see" among my friends. Is it a sign of being less curious? Less willing to reach into an unknown pot of experiences, because you don't think you'll profit in any way from being somewhere other than home?

One trip at a time. We'll see after my next solo travel adventure how I feel about the whole idea of being away from home for at least a few weeks out of each year.

In the meantime, I snipped lilies. At home. You cannot tell from the photos, but the garden is beginning to think about the tail end of summer. The flowers, the abundance -- all that is still hovering around that famous July peak, but I can tell when the stalks have fewer buds and the leaves no longer stand upright. 

Still, that's only detectable for those of us who plunge into the jungle of flowers feet first. To the stroller passing through, all is lush and grand. Here are the farmette photos for today:

Morning in the gardens followed by breakfast. How's that for predictable!

Also predictable: a Wednesday eve bike ride for Ed. I felt like I ought to at least take a walk to ramp up my own movement for the day, so I headed for the local county park. Lovely place. The prairie is coming back just fine and the quiet is awesome.

And heading home, I paused to chat to these cranes. Believe me, they are way louder than me!

At home I did the one social thing today: I talked to Primrose. How I love FaceTime in moments like this! 

And I had to think -- are my grandkids going to be my occasional traveling companions going forward? Am I going to be one of those aging grandparents, who is wheeled through the gardens at Giverny by some kindly offspring of my offspring? 

Eh, I'm only 68. Years away from worrying about long distance travel. Well, at least one or two years away! Gulp.