Sunday quiet

The notable change for me this week is that I do not have kids at the farmhouse. This is very rare -- indeed, it may be a first! A whole week without young family members coming and going? Weird.  (They have other family obligations and activities sprinkled throughout and so I am stepping aside for a bit.) 

Stupid me: I made the mistake of scheduling various appointments for each of those days. Doctors, dentists, closings, installations -- you name it. I never have free afternoons for this stuff and so I excessively seized the opportunity to check things off my list. What a blunder! I could have had an unscheduled week. Instead, I still have to be places and do things every single day. To be trite: ya' live and learn.

Nonetheless, I do feel, for better or for worse, the immense quiet of the week and that quiet starts today. Suddenly, the farmhouse feels like it's standing still. Taking in the day, keeping to a slow pace.

Morning walk. Leisurely.

(early this year and already being attacked by the birds!)

(my happy meadow!)

Breakfast. Also leisurely.

The day is beautiful. Mostly sunny, not too hot, with a stiff breeze. Of course we are going to take ourselves outside. A bit of weeding ("dont wear out!" -- he tells me... he knows I can quickly overdo it in the gardens) and then we load up the truck with boats and bikes.

Our plan today is to ditch the bikes at the edge of the Yahara River, over at Fish Camp Park, and to drive down to the southern tip of McFarland,  to start our paddle there. (About an hour and fifteen of kayaking and maybe twenty minutes of biking.) We did this very "paddle and ride" in November of 2005. I'd been with Ed barely a month then and he proposed that I leave work early, so that we can do this kayak trip before the weather turns wintry and nasty. With bikes. And we did it once again, in the summer of 2012. I felt I really knew Ed well, seven years into our life together! But of course, now, as we get close to our nineteenth year together, we are like old pegs in a board. Firmly in place, and not too far from where we were in those early years: loving our life, loving the scenic landscape of our little corner of Wisconsin, loving these paddle and bike excursions -- only now I'm on my electric bike. Oh yeah! Greatly appreciated on this very windy day.

Those gusts of wind were on our backs on the water, and at first, I thought this was awesome! Pushing us down the Yahara.

 

 

But when we reached Mud Lake, I changed my mind. A shift in the direction, a choppy water -- I had to work hard to keep the boat on course.

((that there is Ed, hanging on to his hat)

No matter. Good for the arm muscles, right? 

(a very spiffy new kayak landing at Fish Camp Park)

The bike ride back to the truck for me was about as easy as they get. Hills? Wind? No problem. Crank up the battery and away I fly.

 

At home, it feels exceptionally strange not to be fixing dinner for the whole lot of them. Leftovers on Sunday? How can that be? 

 

 

Still, we do love the occasional quiet. Ed dozes, I read, write, and take in the dappled light as the tree branches shift and sway in the breeze. 

You could not ask for a prettier evening!

 

pause and a birthday celebration

The pause is in the weather. It's cold today! True, we get only this one lousy day of rain (yes, more rain) and nippy air, but still, I wish the kids began their vacation season with something other than this. Me -- well, I have my usual indoor work to catch up on, so I don't really mind. That much!

My very early walk to the barn:

(Rorschach question: what do you notice, the new Clematis or the cat? Or the cat crushing my new Clematis?)

('Tis the week of the Tradescantia, which sounds a lot better than referring to it by its common name, Spiderwort.)

Despite the cloudy-with-a-chance-of-rain skies, I do drive over to the farmers market. For the kitchen bouquet, for the carrots, and for a few potted annuals to replace a diseased tub flower.

 

(on my way!)

 

I'm not surprised that it's not crowded at all. 

(This is one eight of the total market, which wraps itself along the Capitol Square.)

There's lots to buy, if you are in the buying mode, but our fridge is full, from my weekly shopping, from our CSA delivery, and from our Thursday trip to the local market. Nonetheless, I cannot resist these strawberries!

Absolutely stunning! I'll put them out for breakfast.

(And flowers, of course, though I do see that the growers are struggling here: too much rain. Too, the lupines are barely holding it together, peonies are almost done, and the summer blooms haven't yet opened up.)

 

(Here's an unusual bunch! Poppies!)

After the market, I drive over to Batch Bakehouse. We'll be celebrating Sparrow's 6th birthday today! (His family is out of town on the day of his real birthday.) So we need a cake. He's going for all chocolate. Fine with me, fine with all of us. And while at Batch, I get to pick up some stuff for a very indulgent breakfast. 

 (And I admire the pies: such an American classic! You do not see pies and brownies so expertly executed in many other countries!)

We do eat on the porch, but I'm back to wearing a hoodie.

Now come the emails, the paper work, and, too, there are the issues surrounding my mother's care. 

My mother's care. Skip this paragraph if you want to stay with the upbeat! My mother has spiraled into a cavernous dungeon of unspecific complaints. What exactly does that even mean? Well, to her, everything and prtty much everyone is awful and she is suffering total neglect, mistreated by an uncaring and spiteful staff. Given her history of such messaging, you can't take her at her word. The same accusations have been levied against other places, other caregivers, other people in her life. Nonetheless, as the person who oversees all aspects of her care, I can't ignore her dissatisfaction either. You dont want to learn later that actually, for once, for the first time perhaps, she was sounding proper alarms. So I try to extract specifics, get absolutely nowhere, am lumped once more into the category of no longer miracle daughter. And so I call the staff, which means that they now have a double waste of time -- on her incessant calling for unspecified reasons, and on me, because I need to talk this stuff through with them, ask for details, make sure that they are doing their job and that her harshness -- well, that it's just the usual stuff. Nothing that can be fixed for her, nothing that could possibly be improved upon. And I walk away from all this once again resigned -- knowing that she has a team of compassionate, professional individuals and yet, she has been and will continue to be belligerent and hostile toward these hardworking people. And to me. Because we dont measure up to some imagined standard. As they say -- it is what it is. She is safe. She is cared for. This other layer of drama cannot be wished away, or washed away. It's there. Built over decades. You listen to it, take a deep breath and return to a better space.

My better space is... everywhere and everyone! And today, I'm very focused on Sparrow's celebratory dinner. They all come, of course, and it is lovely.

(the big two lead the way)

(To stave off starvation: predinner snacks. the gold standard? D'Affinois cheese on very long crackers, and olives)

Sparrow is like they all are -- unique and loving. He's a real hugger and his sensitive soul is epic, known far and wide! He gets no pleasure out of mischief. This kid wants to be your friend! Your grandson. Your brother. Your sweet child. Not rough and tumble, not especially turned on by athletics -- he prefers his art projects, his math sums and his dance class. 

(Head of the table for the birthday boy)

Happy, happy 6th, Sparrow. And many more!

with so much love...

Vacation!

Funny how much I get sucked into the mentality of a little kid, finishing up school today, embarking on a period of a long summer vacation! I can see myself back in the days of being a mom, anticipating this more relaxed period, yet more demanding on my time, because kids needed programs and activities and they needed to be taken to and from programs and activities. I can see myself, too, as the young teen, finishing school for the academic year, heading out to my grandmother's village house for the summer. A good bye to one set of friends, a hello to the summer gang. Leisurely wake-ups, breakfasts with my sister, on the verandah. Left to our own devices all day, every day, all summer long.

American kids, as they get older, get more industrious than, say Polish kids ever were. They get jobs. They earn money. They save up for clunker cars or video games. None of my Polish friends got summer jobs. We all just hung out. Took forest walks. Swam in the river. Bike rides to nearby villages. Impoverished money wise, but free to explore, take chances, be our own bosses.

These grandkids of mine are not only 100% American in their habits, but, too, of a different generation. Left to their own devices, they would probably sneak in too much tablet time. Snowdrop, at age nine, can't wait to start baby sitting. When I grilled her on the reasons for it, she scowled at me, not liking the fact that I was questioning her choices. Babysitting, to her, is what mature kids do! A little capitalist in training.

Still, these kids, like me, love the idea of a summer of no school. Vacations are different. Less stressful. With more time, to just be. Vacations rule and today marks the start of a kid vacation.

 

It's a brilliant morning!

Still windy, so the bugs are mostly staying away. 

(More poppies poppin'...)

(Childhood memories: of poppies in a wheat field... farmhouse poppies are in the grassy meadows.)

I do a quick weed pull, but then I throw it all aside and bike over to Steffi's House. You remember this place?

It's in the new development that abuts the farmette lands and a friend is in the process of purchasing that house. Closing next week. Inspection -- this morning. I'm helping move things along and so I bike over to listen in on the details. 

In new construction, there's plenty of room for fussing. This board doesn't fully meet that board. Pipe wet, electrical outlet not wired correctly. This is just normal stuff that you work through once the keys are handed to you. My friend isn't going to be living in this place right away (others will inhabit it) and so I am keeping an eye out on the details. This takes up a good chunk of my morning.

On the upside, the house is right next to Tati Co Coffee Shop. I stop by on my way home and lo! They have a fresh delivery of Madison Sourdough baked goods! Guess who's going to be eating croissants and pain au chocolat for breakfast!

Weeding in the wind follows.

And then it's time to pick up the now officially vacationing kids!

(exuberance: vacation!)

(ambivalence: I dont want to leave kindergarten!)

Lots of treats today: french fries from Culvers, ice cream from Tati's.

And now to the farmhouse, where they have spent their free time on school days all year long. Sparrow goes off to the art room, writing endless math sums -- as is his joy on so many days, Snowdrop and I read together. I glance over and tell her -- you're so grown up! She laughs. Gaga, I just put the wobble board between the two carpets pretending it's a bridge. I am not very grown up!

I drop them off as usual at their brother's school. It's his last day too, in that he moves to a different space and different teachers next year. But of course, he knows none of this. The smile isn't for vacation, it's for seeing his family at the end of the day.

 

These guys:

With so much love...

the wind is my friend

Perhaps I overdid it. I know I overdid it. You can't really blame me: we had the perfect weather for it. Cooler, with some sunshine and importantly -- a boisterous breeze. That kind of wind wreaks havoc with mosquito attacks. They are lousy flyers and they resist the temptation to venture out and hunt down us humans when the winds are significant. They'd rather wait until things settle down. Therefore, it is the perfect day for doing major work in dense flower fields -- especially the overgrown distant ones, where I've basically given up maintaining any semblance of neatness or perfect order.

But as I've said before, I do aim to retain some control in those distant beds. I may not groom them to a great standard, but I do want to pull out invasives and creeping this and spreading that. And there's no better day for it than a day like this, with a soil softened by the rains and yes, with those lovely winds that keep the bugs more or less under control. 

I didn't begin the day with a plan of attack. I started with attending to my mother, whose calls are frequent and bounce around between some degree of the usual and, well, a little off the charts. I suppose it is impressive that she can still pick up the phone, in the dark of the night or in the early morning and figure out how to call me. Some of her issues I do try to investigate, but most aren't without a solution. As they say in the literature -- people sometimes just require your presence, nothing more than that. Perhaps that's why she calls. Who knows...

Eventually I do my walk to the barn...

(the lovely campanula that's not the creeping menace, but instead -- one with long stems of delicate white bells)

And a bit later, after more calls, Ed and I finally sit down to breakfast.

And only then do I decide to do some gardening. Light gardening, I tell myself, nothing too strenuous.

Until it becomes not light at all but intense and over the top -- pulling, pulling, endless pulling, until the mound of weeds becomes a mountain of weeds and I cannot pull any more.

By which time I have to head out to pick up the kids. Mix and match day! He wears different shoes, mixed up socks, she claims she is half punk.

Only one day left of school. Tomorrow. The last one. And then they are done!

We stop by at the local farmers market. A good place to pick up celebratory treats of their choice!

("can we also get some cheese curds?")

(Ed joins us at the market)

And now to the farmhouse, then eventually, to their drop off point. Not done with my day yet -- I have our CSA veggie box to pick up tonight. We're not doing a full summer of CSA boxes. Our farmers have cut back (cant blame them -- they're our age) and in any case, we really do not need a mountain of extra veggies each week, or even every other week. I'm back to post Covid regular market runs, where I can pick what I need for the week. Still, it's always great fun to see what's in a CSA box. Today's loot: asparagus, spinach, lettuce, mushrooms, radishes, baby garlic, and bunches of komatsuna greens -- a first for me. Oh, and a lovely tub of young strawberries. (There's also some rhubarb and a bunch of cilantro, but I deliver the rhubarb to market bakers and I put the cilantro into the communal sharing box. Ed positively hates cilantro.)

What a spring season this has been! So much growth, so much beauty in the farmette fields. So much good fortune.

with love...

 

is that sunshine?

Lingering rain in the early morning. Bugs doing a happy jig in the flower fields. If I weed, I come out wet from brushing against all that rain soaked plant life. And in the early morning at least, I'm getting my first taste of sharing space with The Nasty Bugs. It's not an invasion yet. More like the advance troops -- the scouters, are testing the waters. May they find happiness elsewhere!

The walk to the barn is still lush, green, lovely. And the rains stop and the sun comes out.

(With the last of the purple from the Meadow Rue, a plant that positively carries the Big Bed in mid spring.)

(another Clematis, growing right under a bird's nest in the eaves of the sheep shed)

 

 

(our meadow flowers are very small and dainty and very pretty!)

 

 

Back at the farmhouse I fix four fruit bowls -- for Ed, Snowdrop, Sparrow and myself. It's my daily routine in the morning and it takes a while. This person only likes those fruits. That person likes the stems left on the berries and he likes to nibble around the pits. I like big fruits chopped. Others prefer them whole. One likes every fruit available at the market, the other -- only two. This one like the tartest blueberries, the other -- the sweeter ones. You get the picture. 

And I ask Ed what he'd like for breakfast, besides the fruit. The suggestion of going over to our neighborhood cafe, Tati Co for some bakery treats is floated. I'm on it! I bike over -- it's all of three minutes from our farmhouse -- only to find that they get fresh deliveries from Madison Sourdough every other day. As in yesterday yes, today no. Day-old croissants? That wont do! I drive over to the bakery itself and pick up some fresh stuff. All this makes for a very, very late morning meal.

(we switched places! he wanted the shade, I wanted the sunshine)

 

Weeding in the flower beds is in the company of The Nasty Bugs, and still, I persevere. I intend to keep up as best as I can, bugs or no bugs. Besides, when I've had enough of slapping away at them, I have the serenity and coolness of the farmhouse to retreat to. No air conditioning needed yet -- old buildings hang on to their internal temperatures as the seasons shift from cold to hot to cold again, not unlike the great bodies of water out there. The house will stay cool until it's cool no more and then it'll stay as hot as toaster oven set at max. That's when we switch on the air!

I pick up both kids and it's a slightly tight day because they do want their treat, and she does want her book time, and he does want his play time, and still, she has to learn her next set of lines (she has a total of I66, with 41 of those under her belt so far) and I have to drop her off at her Shakespeare program by 5.

But we manage! 

 

(with a summer haircut!)

 

(An example of older sib status: they cleaned out their desks today. Snowdrop brings a sack of pencils markers scissors and such and hands it all to Sparrow. Art supplies for you! -- she tells him. And he is thrilled! A third grader's old school stuff!  Imagine the flip side -- if Sparrow handed her the "gift" of his kindergarten desk stuff! One can hope that she'd at least work up a smile for his benefit!)

The earlier drop off means that I have time to squeeze in grocery shopping tonight. While Ed bikes, coming home just before the rains come down. Again!

Not to worry, there are full days of sunshine in the forecast. Eventually. In the meantime, bring it on -- the rains, the bugs, the wet nights. On the upside, I've ignored the hose. All spring. Hours saved. No watering needed. Oh yeah!