weekend at the farmhouse, next day

There is drizzle in he air and at times, there will have been rain, and yet, our day had a good balance of lots of outdoor stuff and some quite play inside. And all kids participated! Remember -- Primrose is visiting me for the long weekend!

But first, at around 4 a.m., when Ed was still working on his machine design (upstairs, next to a dozing me), I worried about the quality of our lakes. My idea for the day included making use of at least a tiny bit of a lake. What if it's overwhelmed by an algae bloom? I ask Ed to look it up. 

Nope, not as of two days ago. It's safe.

Okay, that's fine then. Is it time to get up? Maybe not just yet. Time still to stay in bed and go over the details of the weekend in my my head.

And the rooster crows and somewhere behind the clouds the sun rises and we're up!

 Morning play...

 

 

 

Breakfast number one...

 

 

 

And now we're off. There is a drop of rain. Maybe two drops. But nothing too bad. We head straight for the farmers market. We come at it from the back, without the crowds. And we buy flowers.

 

 

 

I was going to buy two bouquets. I had two ten dollar bills. But reaching into my pocket I only found one. This was more upsetting to Primrose than it was to me. I mean -- my foolish fault. Someone will find it on the street and feel enriched.

But as we approached the car, I see it fluttering on the sidewalk. Did it go unnoticed? Did someone not want to stoop down and pick up "just" a ten? Well, I am the one who is enriched. And Primrose is overjoyed.

We drive down to the Lakeside Cafe, where I pick up my bags of added groceries from the market. Still peaches from Door County! How lucky we are to have them this late in the season!

My older girl drives up with her whole clan and we find a table outside large enough for all of us. 

Snowdrop shares wisdoms with Primrose on what it's like to be a big sister!

 

 

 

Sandpiper offers no comments.

 

 

 

How I love wall art! And kids, recognizing the colorfulness of wall art.

 

 

Here's an ambitious pose: The hope is that with three kids holding onto some part of Sandpiper, he will not be dropped!

The lake was still being pumped and cleaned at Bernie's beach and the water seemed actually okay! Not soupy or smelly!

Here's when it started to rain...

The two oldest kids returned with me to the farmhouse. When in the same room, the masks were out. But no one minded! 

 

 

 

And in the evening, everyone gathered again, at the farmhouse, on the porch. Rain's done for the weekend (I hope)! We're good!

A garden interlude:

Honeycrsip apples in the new orchard!

"Can you help me pick this flower?"

Nibbling nasturtium.

Dinner!

Forming the "Big Sisters Club."

Big sisters taking a strong interest in little Sandpiper who is currently teething. One tooth in!

Later, much later, Ed makes popcorn again, just for Primrose and me. Because the day ends well when we snuggle on the couch over a shared bowl. Believe me, popcorn and something on the big screen, followed by a selection of Kevin Henkes books with maybe Mo Willems thrown in for good measure.

Good night little girl upstairs in the Lemon Room. Good night all beautiful children everywhere.

With love...

a whirlwind of wonderful stuff

You can't blame me for not writing much this weekend! So much happening all around me, so many good distractions. But hey, where one hand taketh the other giveth. Not enough story writing here on Ocean? Here come the photos! Are you ready??

 

The day starts early: I need to be at Sparrow's school for the "first day" picture -- a particularly memorable one because the little guy hasn't been in school since the middle of March. Last year. He is three now. Can he even remember what it was like when he was just one and a half?

Is he ever excited! (Though barely able to hold up his supply-filled back pack!)

 

Back at the farmhouse, my visiting Primrose is full of ideas as to what comes next.

 

 

 

For me, there's no question: I vote for breakfast!

We eat at the kitchen table, it's that cool outside!

And now for the outings. Lots to accomplish today, despite the weather. (Cool and it will start to rain by midday.)

 

 

 

Highlights? Well, Primrose gets a haircut...

And then we have a girls' lunch -- my older girl joins us and it is wonderful.

In all ways.

Home then. Little kids need their rest time. And then my younger daughter and her husband take off and Primrose and I face the Labor Day weekend together at the farmhouse. With Ed. 

Dinner? Well, this gets tricky. We were to eat with her cousins, outside, at the Thirsty Goat. But the rain! Oh, the rain! So we called it off. None of the cousins are vaccinated. One of my daughters is pregnant. Three kids are going to school. Our agencies appear to be bickering as to the next steps for all of us. This is no time to take chances, so Primrose, Ed and I eat takeout pizza alone at the farmhouse.

After that? It's a blur. Painting! Primrose has been asking at each visit here if she could paint and she is always stalled with the grownup choice words of "this isn't a good time..." No stalling today. She paints.

Creatively, determinedly.

 

 

Filling the whole "canvas" with her three chosen colors.

 And we watch a movie! The lovely Luca. And I finally return to popcorn, because she wants it so Ed makes enough for all of us.

And at some point it is bedtime and the little girl is tucked in upstairs in the Lemon Room and Ed and I sit back and do the retired person's exhale. There's so much to be grateful for. So much!

With love.

test, freeze, greet

Such a nutty day! With mango and spices stuck to it as an added bonus.

 

 

 

The thing is, I had it all planned out: groceries would be delivered first thing, with the crow of the rooster. I need good foods for the weekend (a family member is staying with us!) and I need mango. And nuts. And sour cream for good measure. 

Immediately after breakfast I would bake. What’s the occasion? Well nothing really, though my visitor would probably appreciate a breakfast cake. Especially one with mangos. She loves mangos.

But the real reason behind the baking is that I’d agreed to be a recipe tester for someone who is putting together a cookbook. I thought it would be a no big deal: I’ve baked for nearly 60 years and am not too concerned about blowing a recipe. When he asked me to do the mango cake I texted back a hearty “sure!”

As I began, I saw that it was a bit of a bother. Do this do that, add this and beat it ever so long. Okay, at 11:30 I finally popped it in the oven and dashed out to run a few errands. The local nursery has reopened for the fall with lots of potted mums for sale while they last. Those would be nice for the porch! And, too, I had to make a run to Stonemans farm. For the corn. They are nearing the end of the season. I want to clean, steam, freeze and seal some ears for the kids for the winter. So,  lots of corn (just when I’m going to clean steam freeze and seal is a mystery but hey, I got the corn).

The cake had been in the oven for an hour and five mins when I pulled into the driveway. Good timing! Estimated baking time was between an hour and an hour and ten minutes!

I carry in the mums, I carry in bags of corn and I exhale. And then I inhale. With my nose. What’s burning??

My God, it’s the cake, isn’t it? I rush into the kitchen. Ed, who is on a work call in the other room shouts out — you should not leave a cake in the oven, gorgeous.

The batter overflowed (significantly!). The oven is covered with burning cake pieces. The house smells like it probably smells in California or Oregon right now. I’m now one hour and twenty minutes into the baking time and the toothpick test is totally failing me -- wet as can be! -- and I must leave to pick up Snowdrop at school. (I like to come early and be at the head of the line.)

Never agree to be a recipe tester!

There will be no mango cake for breakfast tomorrow.

 

In the end Ed agrees to mind the cake for another fifteen minutes or so. That would put it awfully close to tow hours in the oven. If a nine inch cake isn't done by then, you may as well give up.

 

I pick up a happy girl. 

 

 

It was a "great" day at school! She loved her friends! She loved lunch! She loved art and even the teacher isn't so mean anymore!  As she tells me -- "everyone has sort of settled down."

At the farmhouse it smells of cake. Everything is a mess. Wet towels (not sure what Ed was trying to accomplish with them), crumbs, charred bits of sticky cake. I look at my bundt pan and I tap the cake out and of course, chunks of it stick to the pan. A lovely sight.

 

 

 

But Snowdrop, ever the dreamer says -- I tasted a crumb! It's not bad, gaga. Can I have a bigger piece? And then -- Can I have another?

Sweet, sweet child.

We play, Ed messes with the phone line (which has been more or less dead for the past week). The house is a wreck. I can't believe I have a visitor coming in a few hours!

(As I return Snowdrop home, I encounter Sparrow packing his backpack for school tomorrow. He cannot wait!!)

And the day is not over. I have several dozen ears of corn to clean steam etc etc. And for reasons that I cannot remember, I scheduled my extra CSA box of veggies for this day. Two full boxes of corn, yes, more corn, lots of tomatoes, peppers. And wait, that's not the end: our farmers were selling tomato extras for canning and freezing. Twenty five pounds, to be processed now! I signed up for that too. What was I thinking?

Later, much later, some form of (partial) order is restored and at least a few veggies are properly in the freezer. And this is when my younger daughter comes in with her husband and with Primrose. They're here for a day and then going back or going off or going somewhere while Primrose stays with me for the next three or four days.

Welcome to the September farmhouse, brimming with cake crumbs and corn husks and tomatoes, waiting for their winter preservation. Welcome you Chicagoans! I'm so happy to see you!

La Rentrée

For people in France, now begins the period of après les vacances. You know -- after vacation. France is a country where July and/or August vacation weeks are de rigeur! Everyone takes them, everyone goes away for them. With very few exceptions. Eventually though, you have to come back. You have to reenter the stream of daily life. Return to work, return to school. It's an important calendar date, no less so than any other big event in the year. 

For the French, this year's la rentrée des classes is tomorrow. Conveniently, the Ministry of Education sets the holidays and school days for all school children in France and except for February vacations (two weeks!) and spring/Easter break (two weeks again!), both of which are staggered by region, everyone is in school at the same time. Every child's la rentrée is tomorrow.

(Are you a child, fuming at the unfairness of all those vacance weeks in France? Calm down. The Ministry has set the date for the start of school summer vacation for 2022: it's July 7.)

Compare that to our system. If you look at only the first day of school, you'll see a different calendar date not only between states and between school districts, but also within any township or city. So that, for example, the first day of school for Snowdrop is today, whereas the first day of school for Sparrow is Friday. To me, the disparity in starting times is just one example of how much we, individually, like to set our own path in life. The idea of conforming to a national standard is, to some, akin to embarking on a path toward hegemonic authoritarianism. Well, unless it's a standard you happen to like. But let's not go there. I'll leave you to your own thoughts on this. Let's instead talk about school.

(Oh! That's contentious as well? But how could that be? Don't we all just want the same things for our kids? A safe learning environment for all? Okay then! Let's figure out the basic parameters! How hard can that be? Shush!)

So it's school for Snowdrop. As every year since she started the great educational venture (it's her sixth "first day"), I am there bright and early to take that classic photo.

Sparrow has to feel a little left out: the fuss isn't about him, because his school doesn't start until Friday. Never mind! It can be his first day this year sending his sister off to school!

And then I retreat to the porch on this most brilliant, beautiful, sun-filled, cooler day. Notice Snowdrop was wearing a sweater? Indeed! And I wore socks all day long. Fall has arrived.

(For breakfast, I move my place to a sunny spot. For the warmth!)

(I do warm up quite a bit by helping Ed stack wood logs from the chopped down tree.)

Brilliant day. Just brilliant!

(This year, we have a modest apple harvest in the new orchard and a significant -- still in its early stages! -- pear harvest)

In the afternoon, I head out to pick up the girl after this memorable first day of first grade.

The schedule this week is just a little different: I take her home because there are several people there who want to hear all about her day. She has a captive audience.

 

 

 

It's funny to put Snowdrop on the spot like that! So often during Sunday dinner she'll pipe up that no one is listening to her or letting her speak. But ask her to do it as four eager adults listen and she turns shy. Never mind, we got some details out of her -- everything from the hairstyle of the girl who misbehaved all day long, to the duration of second recess (so short!).

And then I return home. Ed rides his bike, I consider closing some of the windows. Why? It's getting awfully nippy out there! Can you believe it -- after the hot and humid days of this past week, we're going down to 52F (11C) tonight. A rapid but beautiful reentry into the new season.

With love.

stir up those guys

We have been having a lot of bug activity this past week, despite the garlic spraying last Tuesday. It seems that the bugs kind of like the stuff. No one is staying away. So today, our organic-natural-pollinator-safe blah blah blah mosquito deterrent guys were scheduled for another visit, to help scare the dickens out of some more of the pests. I had this thought that if I were to mow down some of the tall grasses, it should be just before the garlic guys came. You know, you really agitate bugs when you run a mower over weeds and grasses. Just ask the swallows who follow such activity, swooping down to catch them as they swarm. So they'd be agitated and the garlic guys would come and the bugs would say "well this is just too much, this place is totally unfriendly!" and they would leave.

And this is why at day break, I am out on the tractor mower plunging into one patch of weedy grass after the next. Mowing on that machine makes me sick so after I finish the tractor run,  I quickly feed the cats (the cheepers will have to wait in the coop once again) and then collapse on our bed and tell Ed I am good for nothing for at least the next ten hours.

Of course, I do recover, all the more so since I am hungry for breakfast. Ed joined me, but we eat outside because the porch smells of garlic. (If Ed looks sleepy -- that's because he is.)

And, too, I have a scheduled Zoom call with my best bud down in Florida. That's heavenly!

Finally, at noonish, I venture out. It is significantly better out there and so I force myself to weed. I mean, you have to attend to these super invaders at some point in early fall, so I may as well start now, in modest increments. And yes, there is still the occasional mosquito, but I think these holdouts are just too attached to their home to ever leave. You know, like the person who does not want to evacuate when there is a hurricane brewing.  

In the afternoon, Snowdrop arrives.

I try mild persuasion. I try dragging her by the hand. I try luring with promises of great stuff. None of it works. The girl swings up onto her tree...

... then refuses to stay outside. We've been to the meadow lots of times! -- she tells me. None of my grandkids (so far) prefer the outdoors to what's inside the farmhouse. Ah well. I like our reading sessions. We spend a lot of time with books on the orange couch. And with little ponies and Lego set ups. 

Hey, you know you cannot jump on the big couch!

Just once?

As I drop her off at home (greetings, Sandpiper and Sparrow!)...

...I notice that her backpack is all packed and ready for tomorrow's first day of school. The last day of August brings with it the last day of vacation. Despite all the pandemic setbacks and limitations, predominance of outdoor meetups, and masked adventures, all my grandkids had happy and blissfully healthy summers. For all that, I am so very grateful.