Thursday

We waited for rain. Looking up at a graying sky, we expected rain. It surely looked like rain.

But no rain came.

Once you have the mindset that tells you -- it will rain, you plan your day accordingly. You spend a lot of time on first the Adirondack chair, typing away, and then you move indoors and do the same from the couch. You glance outside, you sniff the air, you wait for the patter of drops on the glass roof and then, when no rain comes, you feel the disappointment. As in -- I could have walked. I could have biked. I should have watered parts of the garden. Instead, my Fitbit kept telling me to get up and I did not get up. I sat and waited for it to rain.

In other news -- well, there was the early farmette walk. Ed joined me for parts of it, claiming that he was in the mood for a peachy morning. Right now we have a ton of peaches ripening on our two productive peach trees, and they are very good peaches -- freestone, juicy, sweet. But they have a puckery thick skin and Ed doesn't mind it, but I do. I'll eat the peaches pealed, but not straight off the tree. So, he eats, while I take care of animals and garden snipping.

So long as we're out together, we may as well check on the new orchard. We have two pear trees that are promising a great pear crop this year. We admire those and, too, we admire the beautiful meadow that's sprouting lots of prairie flowers, despite the absence of rain.

My little camera springs into action.

We spend some time removing Queen Anne's Lace (aka wild carrot). It's the kind of weed that you might actually like -- its lacy white face is pretty in a wildflower garden. But it is also an invasive and if you leave it alone, it wont leave your space alone. It will dominate. So we pull at least a portion of it out. Well, we do a best effort. The ground is solid dry clay right now. 

Queen Anne's Lace looks awfully much like Poison Hemlock, but I've heard that the latter smells disgusting and Queen Anne's Lace smells carroty so I'm fairly sure we're stuck with the former and not the latter. In any case, the meadow is now a lot less white and feathery.

(walk back, past the Big Bed...)

(In the lily bed, the Olympic froggie aims for the gold!)

Breakfast, together, on the porch.

Later, much later, we hop on Ed's motorcycle and take two dozen eggs over to Farmer John at the Farmers Market. We are now really swimming in eggs and he gladly takes them home to his family (in exchange for cheese). Ed threw in a bag of peaches for good measure. 

We noticed that even though the market is outside, people were wearing masks. We live in a sensible county that does not want either to get sick or transmit viruses to others. I was thinking how we could be living through a cataclysmic crisis with bombs dropping and grenades exploding and we would be forced to do superhuman things to protect our families and now, all we are asked to do is get vaccinated and wear a mask. Such small things in the scheme of things. Tiny, tiny efforts to save ourselves, our families, your families. May we do them with enthusiasm and humility. Rarely has so little been required to accomplish so much.

Our CSA box had so much corn! So much corn! I'm freezing the kernels for soups and such, only tell me, why should I steam the corn first? I've always put the kernels in the freezer raw. Sort of like you get in a frozen bag of corn, no? But our farmers sent a message -- steam it first! Anyone have any idea as to why? 

For supper, we're eating vegetable corn soup. That stock made from corn cobs is just too delicious. I cannot have enough of it! An August delicacy for sure.

And if we are lucky, sometime after midnight, it will rain.

discussions

If you want to have a terrific day, the kind where you look out on the garden in beautiful summer weather and breathe a sigh of contentment and gratitude for all that's good about this world and your life in it, do not engage Ed at breakfast time in a philosophical discussion about the meaning of life.

From our very fist date now nearly 16 years ago, I knew where he stood on nearly all important issues. We got down to the serious stuff pretty quickly in our early moments together. So there is no mystery, no deceit, no obfuscation. There is also no movement ever in any direction. Ed has survived this long without straying from his well thought out positions and not anyone or anything is going to sway him into a different mindset. I've learned that, because he is a compassionate person, you can help move him in certain directions, but he will not ever admit that he has been moved. The very essence of his being demands that he speak the same language of existential doom every minute that he still lives and breathes. It's part of the fabric he has woven for himself and honestly, it has gotten him this far so who am I to question its postulations.

But for some reason I got sucked into this discussion anyway. How foolish on my part! Let me remind myself how I even got there:

I'd been clearing the garden and trying to revive my old pocket camera. I loved the pics that my phone produces, but the process of working with those was just too cumbersome. So I was trying out my wee ancient camera and grumbling to myself that wee cameras are not great for squinty ancient eyes. Here are some garden photos anyway. You get what you get.

 

 

And after an hour, maybe two hours, I was ready for a breakfast break. We bring out the foods, the flowers and settle in for a leisurely morning meal.

And then it starts. I ask, innocently -- why are you proceeding in this fashion (insert here some detail as to his current work project) and not in that way (insert here an alternate course)? 

From there it's a small leap to our place in the cosmic universe and the smallness of our actions to say nothing of the paucity of knowledge about the consequences of our behaviors. 

I mean, really Ed? Can't you just say "oh, I don't know, but it's a grand day and I think I'm doing right by others, and by the way I love you very much and let's go somewhere together just the two of us?" That could be one alternative, but there are others. I'll settle for "you're making a good point. I'll have to think about that. Maybe I've been too rigid in my views on this stuff..."

So then there was nothing to do but be ever so slightly annoyed at him and of course, he understood perfectly well that he had overstepped and so as I tried to settle down into some writing, he kept interrupting with fascinating tidbits of stuff he was reading, just to engage me and show me how much he cared. In other words, I got nothing done and the first half of the day was pretty much a waste.

I have learned my lesson.

In other news -- well, I am still on the fence as to my travels next month. And I will be on the fence until the day I leave (if I leave) because each new day presents me with new data which I have to digest and incorporate into my strategies for successful and safe movement at the time of a pandemic. But because it may well work out, I have to start attending to stuff like filling out passenger locator forms and finding out about vaccination passports. If anyone thinks travel was complicated even two years ago, well, it's only grown twenty times more so now.

So, I listen to Ed's chatter and I fill out forms until late in the afternoon when I have just had enough of staying home and doing nonsense stuff. I get on my moped and scoot over to pick up my market flowers, and I admit that it isn't much of an adventure, but at least it gets me off the couch.

Ed bikes today, though smartly he waits until evening. Did I mention that it's warming up again? With no rain, things are looking pretty crispy dry out there. But pretty, no? 

I have great plans for tomorrow: sit down to breakfast with my sweetie, throw out some positive comment about the cats or the cheepers or the butterflies, then go inside and dig into my writing before I get sidetracked by discussions that go absolutely nowhere.

 

on being funny

I recently posted something on Face Book and a few kind people put up comments to it. Seeing one such comment made me smile good and hard: it came from someone I haven't seen or heard from in years (though I do track her life on Face Book). We met when we both signed up to do volunteer work in Ghana. I was there for a week. She was there much longer. I will never forget her: she had the remarkable ability to make me laugh. Not just a chuckle -- real belly laughs, every single evening of my time there.

I love meeting people who make me laugh!

It's not that I would be drawn to someone who is a natural comic. Or someone who shoots forth banter as if she or he were reciting paragraphs from a joke book. Too, it's easy to poke fun of people and make a joke of it. I'm not cool with that. But what I do love is meeting someone who looks at life, especially her own life, with both wit and humor and is ready to share that with you. Magic happens. My pal in Ghana had the ability to spark that magic.

I've not known many people who have this gift. I myself lack it -- I am not especially great at being  funny when I talk about my own life. I know, you've noticed!  But others have played that role beautifully for me. My college best buddy, for example. Oh, did she make me laugh, and I loved her for it! She still does that to me when we occasionally talk on the phone. (I'm not sure that others are affected in this way by her. Laughter is a two way street -- you need the right audience. But for me, every story she tells has a satirical humility to it that is just so endearing! And funny.)

I wonder if you have such people in your life? I hope so.

*     *     *

Today I begin my day with only my phone as a camera for the morning walk.

It has a wider angle, so that's always fun. Still, it's not my baby Fuji. Sigh...

Breakfast? Well, it follows muffin baking. The kids had gobbled up all the muffins I had baked on Sunday and my daughter looked wistful as she stared at the empty plate, so I decided to bake up a batch and take it over. She voted for sour cherry!  (For breakfast, I pick muffin over oatmeal...)

*     *     *

In the afternoon, Snowdrop comes over. I'm fumbling with my phone camera and the girl is quick in her movements! But she does pause by her favorite flower. Let's do one photo before the flower drops all its petals...

 (A new Bad Kitty book? Heaven!)

 

 

 (Snowdrop returns to making her own books, proudly displaying her efforts to Ed here...)

 

Later, much later, we go to the corn farm to pick up some more of the good stuff for dinner. I was reading recently that the best way to cook super fresh corn is to stand it up in a tall pot and steam it in an inch of water. Okay, I will do that tonight and report back!

 

(At home, a quick hello to Sandpiper...)

*     *     *

 Dinner: I have a lot of basil, so it's a no brainer that it's time to reach for the pine nuts and olive oil and garlic.  And parmesan. A pesto over a piece of sauteed fish and... yes, corn, standing up in a pot, steamed to utter yumminess. Yes, that it's true: it's that good!

(And on the edge of farmette lands  -- sandhill cranes, doing their evening song and dance.)

a better way

Most of us try to limit waste. Kids wear lots of hand-me-downs from sibs, they're taught to love the library, we're careful with our trash. Small things, but they add up. Still, the temptation to stray -- to buy cheap stuff, to throw away, to hop in the car for everything -- can be strong. You have to lecture yourself occasionally to do better. I suppose I had one of those "try to do better" days today.

My morning starts with garden work and there's quite a bit of it to do. I had let things go just a little and I needed to catch up. 

I took a few garden photos, understanding that these may well be the last carefully composed ones for the season. 

Why? Well, because my camera is struggling right now. There are three malfunctions, some more pressing than others. It needs to go away for a few weeks for an overhaul. It was so tempting to trade it in for a newer model! The outlay wouldn't be huge -- used cameras still command a great price if they work well and come with a warranty (I always have extended warranties on these guys). But the fact is, when fixed, this camera will once again be just fine for me. I am rough on all cameras (even though I try not to be!). I always wear one around my neck, even though it's heavy. Daily use, knocks and bumps -- they take their toll. May as well stick with the older model. It's good enough.

Breakfast, on the porch. Leftover muffins -- still good, even though any true muffin baker will tell you that these little gems have a very short shelf life. You should bake them on the day of consumption. Well, I heated the old one and it was fine!

In the afternoon, I packed up my camera. Time to take it to the UPS. It's not that far from here -- a couple of hills, a handful of turns and you're there! Maybe ten minutes by car.

Or maybe I should bike over? Gardening isn't very tough these days. I could use the heavier exercise. The car could use a rest. Half an hour moderately fast bike riding each way -- no big deal, right?

I bike. And it feels so good! The hills aren't unmanageable, the air is cool, the breeze -- magnificent! And there's no heavy camera around my neck. That one is strapped with bungee cords to the back of the bike. In a box. Ready for UPS.

So what happens now? I had crossed my fingers that the camera would (more or less) function until I passed my daughter's birthday, and it did. But surely I don't want to give up on pics for the next three weeks! Ah, there is always the dinky backup one I used to take on longer trips. But the more likely candidate is my phone. So many excellent photographers use phones for spur of the moment picture taking. Time to reach for mine when the moment calls for it!

 

Evening. What's for dinner? Well, we have all these leftovers! Bagels from Sunday brunch. Chicken fingers from the kid dinners on our Saturday night out. A couple of ears of corn. A few pieces of smoked salmon. Soup from last week. Normally I would scoff at some of this stuff: older bagels can be tough to love. Chicken fingers from the childrens' menu too is a culinary stretch. But in fact, in that list of foods, we can scrape together an excellent lunch and a reasonable dinner. Cut up the chicken fingers over a salad with chopped up tomatoes and you really do have something very yummy. 

I'm not as perfect at clearing the fridge of leftovers as Ed is. At some point I'll say -- that's just too old! But at least I've come to the point where I'll try to imagine a better way to serve something still fresh if not exactly recently prepared. It can be a challenge, but honestly, it feels good to look for a better way to manage your day. You do your bit and at some point it becomes second nature to not waste. Maybe even to be an Ed, who'll tell me: just take off the moldy part and eat what's underneath. Honestly, it's got tons of flavor!

and now, 40 years later...

Such a beautiful day, in all ways! Lovely cool breeze, partly cloudy skies. You want to be outside, you want to be inside with windows wide open. I wake up thinking again how lucky to be celebrating my older girl's birthday on this glorious beginning to late summer.

Because the younger family is staying at the farmhouse, my attention is focused on them as I get up not quite with the sunrise, but not too long after either. 

I do a quick dash to feed the animals. I clip just the obvious lilies on my path. I mean, what if the visitors see the wilted flower heads, right? Okay, I fuss about the gardens. You know that already!

Inside again, I have a task: bake muffins. Yes, I could just bake the "perfect blueberry" ones I did a few weeks back, or I could do two batches: one with blueberries and sour cherries in the other. It's a little more ambitious, but I have a helper after all!

Ed and I have a light breakfast once the muffins are baked. Someone has to taste the finished product!

 

 

 

And now it's time to take off for the birthday daughter's home. But first, a question for you, little Primrose -- which one is your favorite flower??

I'm thinking the kids all are expressing their color preferences, no? Primrose is big on purple.

 

At my daughter's home (she is forty today!), we set up brunch foods outside on her deck. Another family gathering!

 

 

And of course, it's luxuriously wonderful! The kids flit in and out, sometimes I follow them, other times I linger on the deck to catch up with my older girls...

It's one of those protracted meals that you could stay with forever. Well, okay, maybe not forever, but for a long long time.

Before everyone scatters, I want that photo. Of course I do. Of the kids...

And this one, of all of them in my lap. 

And then it's time to say good bye to the younger family which is never easy, but there is so much good feeling from this weekend that I'm loaded with their presence. I'm satiated. For a little while anyway.

 

Toward evening, there is yet another birthday event  -- this one with friends and colleagues. The kids wanted wanted to make an appearance and we watched people come and go, some of them former colleagues of mine, so that was fun, and there was a cake and more singing..

And then the kids took off to visit their babysitter and I drove home to the quiet of the farmette where I can take the time to review the weekend in my head and, in my most self-indulgent hour, review all those parental milestones and now grandparental milestones that make up family life. I don't go back in time very often, but today -- well, I do, because you know, when your sweet little girl is forty years old, you want to think back to when she was just one day old, or maybe three years old (when her sister was born), or maybe when she was a teenager, away at music camp...

 

Or turning twenty or thirty, and now forty years old.

Yes, it's a beautiful day to be a parent. Happy birthday sweet little S (often called just that by me in real life). Happy, happy birthday!

with so much love...