feels like Monday

Holidays are so confusing! Labor Day shortened the work week and flipped Tuesday to the front of the line and now here we are wondering why the mail delivery is bulky and how come downtown Madison is suddenly so crowded (first day of University classes).

Well, no matter. It's a fresh week and everyone is well and we're moving into Fall quickly and energetically. Right?

 

(Spring starts with yellow daffodils and fall ends the season with... yellows again!)

Breakfast, right before the storm hit.

The storm was a meteorological event. I'm referring to the thunder and hail, pounding hail. I am not referring to the light rumble inside the farmhouse as Ed and I discussed a forthcoming trip -- a second longer escape that is to take place next week, except that no one has done any planning for it. No one has contacted the house sitter for animal care. No one has looked at hiking trails. No one has ordered camping food (even as at least one of us wants to camp). 

I feel like Ed has exhausted his capacity for vacation getaways with that one overnight in Mineral Point back in August. Really, I think he is satiated. And indeed, he is in the thick of his designing project. When the weather is good, he is into moving dirt.

Moving dirt is a new idea and while I do not oppose it (the purpose is to extend a meadow to the east of the barn), I wouldn't have thought that it is a top priority and yet there he is, moving dirt and asking me if I have enough flower seeds for the new meadow space.

There is just so much to do here... -- he tells me. Don't I know it! That's why you do little vacations elsewhere -- to get away from stuff at home. To Ed, this makes no sense. Home is where all the good stuff is.

We interrupt our non-planning when I set out to pick up Snowdrop at school.

Can I watch TV today? -- she asks.

Nope. Too much to do that's way better than TV.

But you said...! (oh those kid words! holding you to a promise never made!)

Not on Tuesdays, never on Tuesdays! 

But shouldn't it be before Wednesdays?

Why? What's so special about Wednesdays? Here we are, ordering the days as if it mattered that one came early in the week, one came late.

Snowdrop has no answer to this and moves on to her next idea. Gaga, how do you make a day into a national holiday? I explain the legislative process to her. So how do we get Congress to pass a law on Pink Day? I so want to make June 4th Pink Day. With a parade. This discussion carries us all the way to the farmette.

... where (happily) thoughts of TV and Pink Day are quickly forgotten.

(At drop off I ask Sparrow how his day was and if he had friends. Any girls? Yes, I have lots of girl friends. And a few boys. Okay then!)

(And today in Chicago Primrose had her first day of school and I miss her...)

In the evening, Ed and I sidestep the topic of trips and vacations. I cook up a dinner of shrimp tacos, he pops corn. Sometimes it's best to just let things unfold without giving them a push in any particular direction.

weekend at the farmhouse: the last day

Probably the best things you will do in your life are the ones that will have required your full energies and dedicated passion. Maybe a book you wrote or... maybe a weekend with a visiting grandchild? 

Primrose was here until this afternoon and at three, she is an easy child to care for. She'll let you squeak by with not a huge amount of effort. But why go that route? Why not put your mind and soul into the project? Even if it leaves you tossing at night just to review the possibilities for the next day and the one after. You can make up for the sleep later. You can't make up for a weekend with a three year old. They turn four and then five and then six very quickly.

 

This morning is gorgeous. Splendid sunshine and those pre-fall temperatures we love so much: cool mornings and glowing afternoons. As every morning here, Primrose wakes at 7:10. it's as if she has an internal clock that tells her this is it! Never mind that she went to bed more than an hour past her bedtime! 

Grandma! -- I hear her call, I answer, but I am downstairs finishing small chores so I wait to enter her room. And when I do, she shoos me away. I'm not done reading my books! -- she tells me.

Oh, I see. Haven't gotten to the Steinbeck yet. I step back, but she shuts her book abruptly and announces -- "I'm done!" We go downstairs.

And eat breakfast. At first she wants it on the porch, but either the cool air or the presence of Dance causes her to change her vote.

And then comes art. She is really serious about her art. This is when you can leave her alone, because she'll tell you when she is working hard at something that she "needs her space." (Here, she is painting a fireworks show...)

But mostly, she wants you there and will rope you easily into her pretend games. School figures high on her list. 

As usual, I like to play the rebellious child or the bossy teacher. I'm not sure she would have cast me in those roles, but hey, posing mini challenges along her play path to see how she handles them is part of what being a grandma is all about.

Though once again she is reluctant to play outside (all the good stuff is indoors!), she is quite happy to be offered the wading pool. I'd brought it onto the porch (bug free!) and filled it with lukewarm water. Yes, she stays in it, but what she likes most is to step out and carry the water elsewhere. In a watering can to a plant, in a tea cup (and another and another and another) to me.

And we eat lunch -- a hodgepodge of foods she appears to love. And read books. Always the books...

And too soon after the parents arrive. She is overjoyed to see them. Excited perhaps by the fact that yes, she survived! Reporting on everything. And as we step out -- she to face the trip back to Chicago, me, for a meetup with the older family by the lake -- she throws out one more missive: grandma, the blueberry muffins are flying up above! Her parents look at me quizzically. And inside joke, I tell them. When you spend three days and nights together, these kinds of special moments stand out.

(This pic is snapped by my younger girl, just at the time of leaving...)

 

 

The rest of my afternoon is spent on a big yellow duck. 

My older girl had promised her kids that she would someday take them for a ride on the paddle boat at Lake Wingra. This paddle boat:

I was invited to paddle along. It's a terrific activity for early fall! The wind is not too strong (try paddling against a hefty breeze), the kids are easily enchanted. 

I can now proudly say that I have in my life ridden in a yellow duck. As have they:

Ice cream follows.

There is a long line at the nearby Chocolate Shoppe, seeming to be all the longer because people are (appropriately) socially distancing. It gives you time to study the flavors. (Why are there so many flavors??)

And of course, in the end, the kids just want chocolate.

Evening at the farmhouse: weirdly quiet. Dance, the cat comes in and pesters me incessantly to pet her, as in wanting that confirmation that, despite being locked out of my life for the weekend she still matters. I complain to Ed that she is insatiable, that I have things to do. 

You could pet her 70% of the time and work on your stuff 30%, he suggests. Dance takes up way less of your time than your grandkids do.

Well that's true! They set my days and oftentimes they enter my thinking space at night. And isn't that just grand!

weekend at the farmhouse: and the next day

It's a weekend that belongs to visiting Primrose and the weather is glorious! It would be lovely to go swimming or to visit the splash pad, but this year all water activities stopped a week before Labor Day and so we are content to fill the day with stuff that is less, well, soggy. 

We begin the morning slowly, playfully, at the farmhouse.

With breakfast in the kitchen because it is really nippy at night and in the early morning.

(Outside, the cats are wondering -- where is our breakfast? This weekend Ed is in charge of all animal care and right now, he's sleeping.)

Any grandparent will recognize that a visiting grandchild brings with her completely new and different experiences, preferences and reactions from those of a child who lives nearby and comes over all the time. I watch Primrose discover and develop favorites. They are her favorites and she incorporates her own style to each play. Is this the time to emphasize that which we all know? That no two kids are the same?

Speaking of kids, some time in the late morning we meet up with the other grandkids at a local playground. It's a large place with many structures to it, but it reminds me a little of the playground in the Luxembourg Gardens: not all stuff is going to be loved by a three year old. 

We spend a lot of time merely swinging!

(Not Sandpiper. He passes on anything not that's not stable.) 

(This photo comes from my daughter's smart phone, but I like it, so here it is!)

Lunch, outside, at Panera.

In the afternoon, Snowdrop is at the farmhouse with Primrose and me. Yes, masked when indoors, but it's such good weather that we keep doors open wide and indeed spend our share of time on the porch.

When Primrose naps, Snowdrop asks to go outside. She is on a real farmette high right now.

Everything thrills her. Apples, pears, goldenrod.

 

Snowdrop returns home, Primrose wakes. Always with books in her bed which she takes from the nearby bookshelf. Books dating back to days when her mom was a teenager. There's one about architecture, one about garden design and Steinbeck's The Pearl for good measure. 

My little visitor from Chicago is much more dependent on me to make something of the space here. She would love to take charge, show me, teach me, lead me, but she knows she can't. Not during this visit anyway. Not when she is just three and her world is in a neighborhood in Chicago which has been hers from the beginning and which she knows like the back of her little hand. And so most often, when asked, she'll turn down an offer for outside play. The familiar, the beloved art room, all that -- they are inside the farmhouse. We play inside.

She paints. And she is quite good at it!

 

This evening it's just the three of us. Primrose, Ed and me. The little girl and I make a pizza...

And yes, there is popcorn tonight and a movie (Raya and the Last Dragon). I had mentioned watching fireflies, but Primrose reminded me that she needs to sleep at night! The moon, the stars and fireflies. Saved for the next visit. They will always be here for her on those cloudless summer nights, waiting for her curious gaze and happy smile.

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...