it has come to this...

November. Openly disliked by me for its weather, dark days, with a promise of darker yet to come. So of course, coming as no surprise, we have a day of drizzly cold weather. I expect nothing more from this month. 

There is a window of such light drizzle that it almost feels like someone is spraying rainwater cologne in the air. Millie is bouncy, joyous today! Wet air? No problem!

Breakfast for her is still on the meh side of things, but I have a topper to urge her on. And then she brings her toys to the corner chair and waits for me.

Here's a lovely detail about November: it will be Millie's birthday in a couple of weeks!

The girl is so full of vigor that I take her out to her yard for a decent zoomie spin.

She then plays, muddying her paws while I dig out dandelions. I'll never get even half of them, but the big ones at least are out!

The clock moves toward 1. The time of my first neighborhood Mahjong game. I had Chat GPT give me a five minute lesson, but honestly, I'm more than a novice. I do not play games in general and so I am a poor candidate for playing with serious gamers. But, it was sweet of them to ask me to join their group (um, they desperately needed a fourth!) and I hadn't the heart to say no. Besides, the hosting person lives just three houses down from me. How convenient can this be!

Today was just a trial run so that I could get the hang of the game. And guess what -- I won! (Which is a good indication that luck plays into the result. By no means entirely, but I assure you, I could have lost just as easily.)

It was, for me, a rare visit to one of the homes in the new development. Everyone here is a newcomer of course, though I may well be the newest of the newcomers on the block. This particular home had a different layout -- one that had room to support the two hobbies of the two who live there -- hers -- quilting, his -- woodworking. But let me stay with the quilting. This is no small quilting set up. She has been churning out the quilts for twenty five years now and they are spectacular. Here, I'll show you one or two:

She also does mosaics, but I think that's just an add on. My other neighbor turned a bunch of people here onto that hobby! 

I felt like the person who somehow skipped that part of growing up where creativity was forming and blossoming. I'm not crafty at all, I don't paint, I don't knit or crochet (these women do all those). And no, I don't weave or make quilts or throw pots. Sure, you can tell me that writing and photography require creativity and I don't disagree. However, neither of them require the use of hands. Gardening you say? It's a hobby, and it does require skill and lots of work with your hands, but once you've planted a garden, the maintenance part is just plain work. If you do not expand (I cannot!) or redo (I hope I don't have to!) failed plantings, you're pretty much tied to what you have put in place. You can improve the garden, but you're not producing something new. And importantly -- it's very seasonal. I'm playing Mahjong because my gardening will soon come to a total standstill. Water the overwintered pots once a month. How creative is that?!

But let's get back to Mahjong: I have to admit, the game itself was quite fun. There are challenges and strategies of course, and in my head,  I am still working through the reputation that it has (old women in China, playing late into the night...), but I had promised them availability once a month and at the end of the game I changed my mind and told them I would see them next Monday. It has come to that.

 

And what's going on with the roses? Well, they're still in transit and besides, the weather isn't good for outdoor work. I am resisting looking at rose websites because they are all launching their bare root collections (which are sent to our state in April)  and if you think there was an assortment beyond belief this summer and fall, well, the spring collections are about five times greater. I suppose it's a good thing that I simply haven't the space for more or else I really would spend all my retirement money and efforts on ... roses. I suppose there are worse ways to fade -- my father drank himself to pieces and my mother -- well, there wasn't much that brought her pleasure in her final years. Losing myself in the world of roses beats both those outcomes. Right Millie?

 

 

 with so much love...

time change

 A lot has been said on the subject of whether we should abolish Daylight Savings Time, or take it on year-round, or just stay with the bouncing ball we have in place now. The Bill to put in place a permanent fix stalled this year in committee and so we are bouncing around still. Today, for example, we ditched Daylight Savings Time and reverted back to Standard Time. Sleep specialists and those who study circadian rhythms say that we should stay with a year-round clock that doesn't spring forward or fall back. That we should align ourselves with the times that are given to us by the rotations of the planet and not tamper with the clock because our bodies do better with that than with the artificial introduction of Daylight Savings Time (DST). We are naturally aligned with Standard Time, they tell us.

I do not understand their position at all. None of it is "natural." Clocks are human inventions serving human interests. How can you say it's more "natural" for me to call 7 a.m. its regular 7 a.m., when just a few miles to the east, that same time is deemed to be 8 a.m.(in Michigan)? Back in 1918, the introduction of DST in the US was all about the war effort and conserving energy to strengthen our position in the conflict. After the second World War, when summer DST was passed into law on a permanent basis, the stated reasons had to do with recreation, outdoor activities and the need to have some time to get stuff done after work. I suppose it was so hopelessly dark in the winter anyway, that everyone gave up on the idea that we needed more daylight to get things done after work then.

The discussion continues. I'm in favor of more daylight in the evening, but then I dont have little kids starting school at 7:40 in the morning. So, ask me which I prefer and I'll say DST forever! But I understand that this is just my preference. What I don't understand is how it has come to pass that the experts are weighing in and telling us that it is better for us to stick with the clock as the cosmos intended because, you know, otherwise our circadian rhythms are out of wack and that's just plain dangerous. Plain nonsense, if you ask me. If they're out of whack it's because we all spend too much time on our screens. Which for once was not my problem last night.

It's not that I went to sleep at a decent hour (now that Millie is here again to regulate me). I did not. More like 2 a.m. again. I got very engrossed in work on my Rose Book. And what exactly is this Rose Book? It's a very large blank notebook where I want to list all the roses I have growing here, with brief descriptions telling me what I planted where and in what state of growth.

There are many reasons for me to do a Rose Book, but I think chief among them is my inexperience with seriously growing roses. I bought plants that should survive a Wisconsin winter (if properly prepared for it). But will they survive? Will they die back? And where did I put what? Should I expect fragrance? Tall canes? What does each plant need come springtime? I dont want to get down on the ground and look for tags everytime I want to check on a rose. The book will help me remember where I planted my 104 bushes, large and small (plus my seven container ones, though that's more obvious). 

Millie was wonderful this morning: she stayed put until I got up at 7 (which to her surely felt like 8). I'm not totally surprised: she had quite the evening, given all the trick-or-treaters. And with my being up late, she had her "last chance" walks deep into the night. Still, it was wonderful to transition so easily to the new time. 

I'd like to say that breakfast was wonderful on this first day of November, except that it was wonderful only for me. Millie has been rejecting her food for several days now. I subscribe to Farmer's Dog adn she used to love it to pieces. Now, and especially in the mornings, she wont touch it, which is especially troublesome since she is taking meds for her tummy issues and each untouched meal is a wasted pill. I have actually started sprinkling toppers on her wet food. She is very nimble at fishing them out of her dish. Oh, Millie!

(my breakfast)

She naps, I dig three more holes.  Sounds like a good way to spend the morning. For both of us.

The day is a little different (from other Sundays), because the young family is not here for dinner. Not quite sure why. I have long given up on making sense of their needs and plan changes. This does free up the day a bit more and since Ed wants to come over for a light supper (now that the house is people free!),  I decide to take Millie to Tati's for her pup cup treat. Just us two girls! Well mannered,well behaved, both of us.

(yum!)

 

 

Back home again, I give her a thorough brush through. She is used to this daily routine, and rarely fusses (much). Afterwards, she looks like one big cream puff. (It's rare that you see her eyes well: the dark iris fills the eye and hides in a frame of dark fur. This time, however, I catch her giving me The Eye.)

 

 

 

Of course, by 5 it's dark and it will be thus until March 14th (in the U.S. and Canada, and March 28th in Europe  -- Asian countries and African countries do not change their clocks, and Australia does, but of course, they're on DST right now so they don't belong to the dark evening club at the moment). Millie prefers daytime walks, although this morning she was very agitated by all the new smells left over in our neighborhood from last night's trick-or-treating. But we shall persevere! Time to bring out some evening candles, don't you think? After Ed leaves. He is not a fan of winter candles!

 

with so much love... 

 

  

default setting

I have never yelled at anyone in my life. Nor have I ever done the passive aggressive thing where you refuse to speak to someone who you think has wronged you, for ages and ages. Both were practiced by one of my parents. The other parent was of the calm sort, until he turned 60-ish and then it was all high drama, spurred on by alcohol. For me -- it's not that I dont get upset. I do! And I admit to, in the past, writing very upset emails. Spurred on by a glass of wine. But my default is to withdraw into myself until it's safe to come out. 

 I write this because there's a lot going on in this world and all around me, and it struck me today that I should be angry. Everyone else is angry -- where's my fighting spirit? But that missing gene in me is a real roadblock to what should be a state of fury and rage. Wouldn't it be nice to just scream at someone? I'll never know.

Nonetheless, I'm not blind. There's a lot to be upset about and, as I said, I do not have a missing "upset" gene. But here's the thing: when you pass 70, you realize that getting upset will interfere with finding joy in what could be the last good years of your life. A significantly more palatable option is to redirect yourself toward doing something you love. Roses came along when I was on the prowl for that something. And Millie? Well, she has been a godsend in a million ways! She is my rock solid super-girl. Do you wonder that I thought about her when I was in Paris? That I bought for her that striped Bretagne dog shirt I saw on my visit there to the pet store? And that I supplemented it with a beret, and put it all together for Halloween? To those in the know, I say she is my French fille. To most, I just say she is my little jailbird.

 

 

*.    *.    * 

Breakfast on this last day of the month.

So, Halloween. A cool one. With a chance of rain, but only with that chance. Millie, we're going to participate! I have a toy French poodle for you too!

 

But of course, participate in what way? It's not as if I'll be taking her out to collect candy! 

Maybe we can do a Halloween walk...

All those kids out and about! And people, finally using their front porches! Millie is transfixed! What the hell is going on out there? 

I had worried that she would be scared of all the noise, the activity. Initially, when we hung out on the porch, she was merely excited. Once it got dark and we went inside -- well, she had to bark. Tail wagging, but bark she did. At every child who dared pass our house on this night of spooks and goblins and Bluey characters and of course, the occasional Elsa.

Sweet sweet girl of mine! 

Tomorrow, I'll go back to digging holes for roses. Today, Millie and I hung out. And it was grand.

with so much love... 

malady

My symptoms weren't obvious. It was one of those things where you could think of it as a sign of illness or chalk it up to being old-ish. Doesn't everyone who is, say, past 72 have moments... okay, days... no, weeks, of fuzzy thinking, irrational behavior, dizzying sleeplessness and the like? But last night, I struck a new level of instability and this morning I woke up knowing that I was doomed. I didn't need a doctor to tell me -- it's so obvious. And AI confirmed it. When I listed my symptoms and asked if this was indicative of disease, I got a very clear "yes." I guessed which one and AI confirmed it. Here's a direct transcript: "rose fever" describes a passionate, obsessive desire of a gardener to buy, collect, and plant more and more roses than they actually have room or time to manage.

Millie keeps me in check. When she is here, I understand that my time to work with roses is limited and can fit into the pockets I have when I am not with the kids and she is in daycare. Too, her presence forces me to go to bed at a reasonable (albeit late) hour, because I know I have to get up between 6 and 7 (earlier, starting Sunday) and I know I need to get some decent hours of sleep.

Last night, she was not here and it happened to be the evening where I discovered that there are small growers  and retail outlets that post roses on Etsy and some of them have a fantastic reputation and importantly, they dont spend the dollars on marketing (in the way that the big nurseries do), so their roses are invariably less expensive.

For many, many hours I studied the various roses available there. I wasn't really in it for the purchase, but simply to get to know what else is grown in this country. Your local nursery has a very predictable stock of rose varieties (in the spring and summer). The nurseries that sell online are a little bit better in that their selection is substantial and it includes the rose varieties that any rosarian would covet. The modern English roses (David Austin, for example), the German Tantau and Kordes disease resistant ones, the lovely French pastels, and even a few of the Japanese roses (Miyabi, Masora, etc). Etsy, on the other hand, has stuff I'd never even heard of. Yes, the English ones, yes, the German and French, but also a plethora of Japanese shrubs and, too, Chinese varieties which have become popular among some growers recently. The caveat here is that on Etsy, you feel a little like you're being thrown to the wolves. Forget those review stars -- they could easily be fabricated. A rose for $1.95? Can't wait to get that in my mall mailbox! On the other hand, we now have AI to help us sift through reputations -- of both the roses and the growers. And so I stayed up late (until 2), reading, evaluating, lusting, and just learning. 

Eventually I did purchase four roses which they say will come in the next week (I really cannot plant beyond that, so if they come later, I'll have to overwinter them in pots which is not a great idea for me as I already have enough to store in the garage once everything freezes). Wait -- planting roses in November?? Rose Fever gone wild.

My friends, those who have been at Steffi's House and thus know the size limitations the garden presents, asked me yesterday -- where am I putting all these roses and other plants? It's a good question and I have to say, the last four roses incorporated into my Master Gardening Plan ("MGP") dont have a perfect spot yet. I am not going to overcrowd the beds I have filled thus far, so I will have to extend the planting spaces or move some perennials. I'll likely do a combination of both, though I am a little apprehensive about the Dames de Cheanonceau climber. I'm not sure my idea for her is entirely workable. We shall see.

 

Without Millie here this morning (she over-nighted with Julie because of the date Ed and I had last night), you'd think I'd sleep in, but no! I got up as if she were there, waiting for me. In part it's because I am always up and moving by 7-ish. And in part because I had all these ideas spinning in my head about rose placement. When you have the Rose Fever, it does not go away in the hours when you should be sleeping.

 

Breakfast was late (because there was no Millie to keep me on schedule), and not the best, because I took my laptop with me to the breakfast chair...

... and that's just not a good idea. Screen time just isn't restful or meditative. It's frenetic and oftentimes depressing. And once I was online, I read more about the roses on Etsy's. I am done with buying. Even a fresh budget month wont help anymore -- the shipping dates are too late now. Everyone is already shifting to reserving bare-root roses for spring. Surprisingly, I am not part of that bandwagon, mostly because I really do not have room for expansion. And I do want to see how the winter treats my roses. If they all die back to the root-ball, then I will have learned something. Not sure what yet, but it has to be incorporated into my pool of knowledge about growing roses here, in Steffi's Garden.

 

In the early afternoon, I plant a couple of perennials and I put in the remaining 24 bulbs. And I make some decisions: I dig out a big hydrangea and give it up to a neighbor. And I move some perennials. And I put up a trellis. And I do not forget about the other plants that are beautiful right now in Steffi's Garden.

 

 

 

And then, finally, I go to pick up Millie at doggie daycare.

(in the car)

 

 

Oh my girl! I cannot manage without you! I'm so glad to have you home. To keep me sane, content. To keep the Rose Fever at bay. To focus on what's before us and not what's coming in the mail "for sure" in 7-9 days. Come up here, little one. Time to brush you out!

 

 

with so much love... 

fragrance

If you take on rose growing and you start reading all the descriptions that are offered on a particular variety's fragrance, your head swims. It's like reading about wine notes on your palate, or more recently -- of dark chocolate. I bought many a dark chocolate bar in Paris based solely on the description of what I would taste once a small morsel would dissolve in my mouth. Last night I broke into one of those bars and I'd forgotten what I was supposed to be tasting, so in the end it tasted like... chocolate. Good chocolate, but still, chocolate. 

With rose fragrances I'm in a whole new to me ball game. I'm learning to differentiate between honey myrrh (Bathsheba Rose), lemon, apple and raspberry (Earth Angel Rose), notes of tropical fruit (Bolero Rose), fruity spice (Moonlight in Paris Rose), almond blossom, cucumber and lemon zest (Desdemona Rose), and so on. I find myself avoiding the buying of rose plants with modest fragrance ratings, even though I have so many roses that if only half gave out any fragrance at all, it would be one big perfume factory out there. I do have to wonder if it will be like chocolate: maybe they will all just have the fragrance of... roses?

Morning. Millie slept in a little longer and had no accident. I was happy with that until it was breakfast time and she refused to eat any of her beef meal. She has been less enthusiastic about her meals lately and I'm wondering if it's her tummy, her age, or if the meals that I give her are simply boring. 

She was good company for my own breakfast (once she moved to make room for me...)

She doesn't spend the entire time snuggled by my feet, but she always gives me a handful of minutes like that and I am intensely grateful. I cannot imagine my days here without a Millie looking into my eyes, trying to read where I am at, what I have in store for her, which way the world is heading.

I take her to doggie daycare on an empty stomach. I tried, I really tried and spent a couple of hours coaxing and cajoling -- she refused to eat. Still, she was otherwise her usual bouncy self so off we went. She is sleeping over at Julie's tonight because Ed and I have a date -- our annual one, it seems! -- and I thought she'd like it better at Julie's than in a crate for several hours in the evening. 

From Happy Dogz, I went to the big box Kohl's store, where I had to take an Amazon return, and of course, the clerk there did a little mini commercial for me on their Sephora products (there is a Sephora within the store). I assured him that I am not a Sephora person, but he gave me a 10% coupon nonetheless and I wandered over to look at the rows of cosmetics (forget it), creams (I'm well stocked) and such, to see if there is anything that I would even consider buying. And in poking around, I came to the shelves of perfumes. I love a good cologne, but the reality is that I never use it. I often take a bottle with me to Europe and if I remember, I spritz it on before a dinner out, but this is such a rare event that my two or three bottles of the stuff are still mostly full. Nonetheless, I saw that they had a whole shelf of Jo Malone perfumes (a brand that I like because at least in name they smell fresh and honest). Maybe I can find a rose scent just to wear for the day while I dig around in my rose bed? 

Again, the name and by implication fragrance of each bottle befuddled me. There is one called Peony and Blush Suede. As I recall, most peonies don't have that much of a fragrance. I read a further description of this particular bottle: This is a voluptuous and flirty fragrance, full of blooming peonies and opulent notes of jasmine, rose, and gillyflower. A juicy bite of red apple brightens the scent with a fruity twist. Accents of honey unfold into a sensual base of soft, blush suede. At once charming, fun, and totally seductive. My God! All that in one bottle? No wonder it's so expensive. And another one, called Bergamot and Sea Salt. Does sea salt smell? I sampled that one! Heavenly indeed, but I would never have guessed that it carried any notes of sea salt to my nostrils.

The world of fragrance is at once mysterious and intoxicating and alluring. I walked away without using my 10%, but I did douse myself with Bergamot & Sea Salt on one side and English Pear & Sweat Pea on the other. That last one sounds so very perfect, but maybe it's the imagery that is messing with my senses, because the scent itself is one of... lovely perfume.

The day is sunny again and I work in the garden. Planting bulbs of course (I only have 24 left for tomorrow!). Digging a hole for another rose,  moving a daylily and a false sunflower. Taking stock. 

 

And in the evening I am out for dinner with Ed at Sardine and it is wonderful. We sit as we have sat at so many restaurants -- squeezed onto a bench together at a table that should have us facing each other. He orders his favorite, I order mine, and I break with my wine-free existence and order a bubbly rose from Alsace and the whole evening is just pure pleasure. They gift us a sorbet for our anniversary and I have to smile at the red cross on Ed's shirt, and the red sorbet -- a dramatic burst of color for two people who lead very undramatic lives. But good lives. Happy to be close, happy to be intensely busy in our own peculiar ways, just happy to be as we are right now.

 

 

 

with so much love... 

simplicity itself

At the end of the day I still will have 85 more bulbs to plant. Some leftover daffodils, but mostly tulips, which I regret because tulip blooms are nice but the decomposing plant afterwards is a mess and if you want a repeat bloom (I at least had the smarts to get repeat bloomers), you have to leave it alone until it looks totally dead. None of bulb planting is enjoyable, but, I am making progress, I planted today's batch with Millie looking on, so at least I had company. But you'd think the last thing I would want to think about would be the acquisition of more bulbs, and yet, this is what I did today: I looked through all the amaryllis bulbs out there and decided on the three (just three!) that would be my companions indoors this winter. I dont much care for the leaves that you have after the flower is long gone for the year, but I'll worry about that in spring. If they get too unruly, I'll give up on a rebloom and compost them. 

So, is the day all about bulbs? Well not really, but content wise -- they're a substantial chunk of it. The rest of my time is spent on the lovely rituals that Millie and I have developed on days that we have together, at Steffi's House.

Breakfast, of course. At sunrise.

With Millie.

 

 

Then she plays in her yard and I plant 18 bulbs (just outside the fenced area; no way am I going to put anything that's toxic anywhere near her free space).

At lunch time I call Ed and ask if he'd like to meet up with us at Tati's. He does. I brush Millie thoroughly before our outing. She looks so fine! Maybe a hat for her cafe moment?  Pup cup time!

 

 

 

We are a handsome trio!

 

 

 

Well, Millie is the show stopper. People actually ask to take pictures of her. She just smiles. 

 

 

Ed and I discuss his upcoming sailing trip. The pros and cons of it. He'll likely go and I'll switch to taking care of the farmhouse and animals for a while. The captain of this particular sail (on the Atlantic again) is a former Navy guy and a submarine commander so I have few worries that they wont be able to manage, even in big storms. 

In the afternoon, I zoom while Millie naps.

And then we have visitors! A neighbor stops by with her dog (who is perhaps the only dog around here who has shown interest in my wonderful pup). While the dogs have a fine romp around the house, the neighbor asks me if I would join their newly formed Mahjong group. She asks this on a night that I already neglected to go to the neighborhood book club meeting, which only goes to show how difficult it is for me to leave the house in the evening. Oh, but it would be during the day -- she says. I hesitate. Winter is long. But Mahjong? Isn't that a game for old retired ladies? I suppose I should face up to my own demographic! 

I tell her that once a week is too much for me. She persists. Could I join them once a month? Even my protest that I have never played Mhjong, don't know how to play Mahjong, am not much of a game person -- none of this puts her off. If I could learn, you can learn -- were her parting words. Perhaps. AI tells me it takes about an hour to figure out the rules. But it takes 1-2 months to be decently good at it and that's not if you play only once a month. And the problem is -- I hate being bad at something! Why don't I play chess with my grandson? Because I am not good at it. Why don't I play tennis with Ed? Same! Still, someone appears to have the stuff needed for the game and I know I should make an effort to extend my reach beyond just my garden. I offer a "maybe," but as she leaves, I return to studying rose websites and read the latest comments of rosarians in various rose groups. 

And I wonder -- why am I not shy about growing roses? Surely three months ago, even two months ago, I was not good at it, and yet... I suppose the answer is that I did not now how much I did not know. I assumed incorrectly that my gardening experiences would translate into good rose growing. (They do and they don't.) And I assumed incorrectly that my dog ownerships of the past would prepare me for working with big rescue dogs. And I assumed when I joined the employ of a restaurant as a line cook (at L'Etoile) that my knowledge of food prep at home would be enough for me to fit into a fast paced world of high end restaurant cooking. It helps to sometimes not know how bad or simply inexperienced you are at something. You plunge and eventually you surface and realize that you can swim across a lake and make your way to shore. With Mahjong, I have no illusions. I am a complete neophyte. Aren't I too old to learn new tricks?

 

A quiet evening. Perfect for the quiet mood I am in almost every night of my life now.

with so much love... 

not that much fun...

Gardening on a cloudy and cool day, where your soil is awful and what you're putting in goes below ground (bulbs) so you do not have instant gratification of any sort? Not that much fun. Waking up to see that Millie is now having repeat accidents at night? Not that much fun. Doing three UPS returns, and one Home Depot return, and shelving for now a Kohl's return? Not that much fun. Realizing that even after a morning of outdoor work you still have 103 bulbs to plant? Not that much fun. 

Having my joyous pup with me for breakfast, with blooming roses (not from my garden), warm milky coffee, mellow classical music playing and an open book before me? Bliss. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping outside and finding several roses in full bloom, like this one...

Enchanting. 

Seeing the delight in the eyes of the staff at Happy Dogz as Millie bounds in, displaying her fullest post-groom fluff?  

Total pride -- that's my girl!  With a beauty that starts from inside her heart!

Picking up a grandchild who is never mad at me, never complaining about what we do, or where we might go? So wonderful.

Picking up Millie then, together?

So sweet.

Driving home in fading daylight, knowing that we are only at the beginning of the dark quarter of the year? Not that much fun. 

Bringing out a good bar of dark, but not too dark chocolate? Intoxicating!

On balance? Such a good day!

with so much love... 

that have known me...

Are you a café addict? I am. Always have been. In postwar Poland, this was a common indulgence. People didn't eat out. They didn't travel much. They may have owned a TV, but there was nothing really you'd want to watch. They took walks. And they met up in cafés. In part perhaps to escape a crowded home situation. You couldn't hope for privacy there, so you met up with friends in a café, usually over a cup of tea and a piece of pastry. Ciastko. (It is interesting to me that none of my Polish boyfriends ever wanted to do this, preferring either home visits or long walks.) I loved those cafés (kawiarnie) and I continued to love them when I moved to the U.S., even though there was no such entity here then. Not until Starbucks came on the scene and a flood of others followed. [Perhaps you don't remember -- the first Starbucks opened in 1971 as a sort of espresso bar in Seattle. It might as well have been Europe. Not at all within reach! The Starbucks expansion did not happen until much later. I remember being thrilled when it finally arrived in Wisconsin, in 1997, though by then we had local roasters filling the void.]

Unlike those Polish boyfriends and unlike my ex-husband who also wasn't really a café guy, Ed and I have always liked café meetups. We had our own place -- the Oasis Café (which we referred to as Paul's, because we were with Paul the entire time he owned and ran it). Ed and I would go there after I finished work, and we'd go there on weekends. He's read, I'd write and occasionally we exchanged stories. Bliss. We then switched to Finca -- a café that also had wonderful owners from El Salvador, giving the place a sort of Latin vibe. Finca was closer. It became ours until Covid shut everything down, after which we drifted, untethered, restless, until our bike rides took us on a favorite route to McFarland where we settled on Grace Café. Loved those moments with him there! However, the arrival of Millie initially meant that bike rides with Ed had to be put on hold and again we drifted, until I learned that Millie was welcome at Tati's in the new development where I now live, and so now that place is ours, and I love it as much as I did all the ones that came before it.

*.    *.    *

Millie is a dog with a sensitive tummy. That is the reality and despite my switch to pricey human grade food, she continues to have flareups and I expect this will be her pattern into old age, all the psyllium and probiotic powders notwithstanding. She is a worrier when faced with the unfamiliar, and that surely doesn't help. This means that she continues to have the occasional nighttime accident. I can always tell I'll have a clean up job, when 7 a.m. passes and she is not restless to get going. Not in a hurry? Oh oh...

No matter. I'm well equipped with good products that easily clean up any pup mess. She looks on anxiously, wondering if she is in trouble. She isn't of course. She knows she should go out, but if that option isn't available to her -- well what's a girl to do?!

We have a beautiful time over breakfast. My breakfast. (She eats earlier.)

And soon after, my once-a-month cleaners come (I pre-cleaned everything thoroughly before their arrival!) and Millie and I do a rapid exit. I have her monthly grooming appointment scheduled for today (she needs these... despite my daily brushing, her hair easily clumps and thus cannot be kept long), but I still have time to kill before that appointment so I take her for a run in the dog park...

... where as always, she is. spirited, but also shy with unfamiliar scents, relaxing completely only when she sees us getting closer to the exit. 

I drop her off at the groomer's and I still have a few minutes to kill (I pay only for one hour of cleaning, but I want to make sure I do not interfere with that). I go to Finca Café. 

Such memories! It is unfortunate that I am reminded of the pandemic here, but I am also reminded of days before that, when the sunshine streamed in through its large windows and we felt the warmth of their fireplace on a very cold winter day. And mostly, I am reminded of all the beautiful moments I have enjoyed with Ed. So many of them were quiet ones, where the joy was in being in each others presence, nothing more. [I could have asked him to join me here today, but he was busy offloading a toilet to someone, which sounds totally gross but he swears it's clean -- sitting unused in the barn after I replaced it during the farmhouse remodel. At least he was giving it away as opposed to selling it!]

*.    *.    *

And what gardening work awaits me in Steffi's Garden? Well, I'm in a holding patter here. Four container roses and seven in-ground baby ones are in transit (I hope). I'm really pushing it with planting them so late. Several nurseries advise against it, several more claim it's fine so long as the dirt is workable. I guess I land somewhere in the middle. The only reason I continue with this project this late is because the weather has been so weirdly warm and is slated to stay this way for the next ten days (at least). Not even a light frost in sight. So, dig another hole, fix the other ones, and wait. Eventually I'll have to mound the roses. That's a big project but probably I wont get to it until December because they have to drop their leaves first and that's just not happening yet.

Aside for the rose plantings, I'll have six perennials to put in as well. But not today. And of course, the bulbs: 128 of those. Also not today! I need to spend an hour or two digging out some very large dandelions or else my lawn-pedantic neighbors will kill me!

*.    *.    *

I bring my girl home. Adorable! 

People say that doodles are a class in itself. Happy, barky, playful, intelligent, spoiled. Of course, the spoiled part isn't a trademark of the dog, it's a trademark of the people who care for them. Doodles are demanding (in terms of grooming and, too, because they are so playful, spirited and smart) and people who expect just a doggie companion for their family are often overwhelmed by these pups. And then there are the rest of us. who are just so in love with the personalities and sweetness that they present and we just can't say no to their humble demands.

I belong to that club.

 

 

*.    *.    *

Ed comes over for dinner. I have lots of leftover shrimp. I garlic them up and we have ourselves a shrimp feast. Over NA beer and the show we like to watch together.  Almost as good as an afternoon together at a café.

with so much love... 

 

 

cars

Millie and Ed have this in common -- neither likes being in a car. For Millie, I have to think it has to do with the uncertainty of what comes next. For Ed, cars are boring machines. Like airplanes, they trap you for long distances. He's cramped, he's sleepy -- a bad combination for a driver. To my knowledge, he has never purchased a new car -- a waste of money. But though he detests driving the thing, he doesn't mind crawling underneath to fix emergent problems. In the 21 years I have been with him, I've seen him go through three cars -- all visual wrecks, purchased at very low prices. Used, with problems that he then fixed. The last one, a little Hundai, dating to 2000, finally died and so for the past few weeks he's been on the lookout for a replacement.

He found one that he thought might be okay -- an '09 Hundai Accent again, but with several years of improvements on it. The owner lives in Janesville (a 45 minute drive south) and so this is going to be our excursion for today: to Janesville, to consider a car. 

But first, Millie and I have our usual beautiful morning.

 

  

 

And then I do some rose business: I donate two Baffins to a neighbor, and I put in trellises for a new positioning of the front climbers. I'm hoping the trellises will be strong enough. Saving money on plant supports is a textbook example of being penny wise and pound foolish. A heavy rose can bring the whole structure down. Still, I'm going to take a chance and stay with the cheap ones. With support structures you're left deciding between a Hyundai Accent (a used one at that) or a  Mercedes-Benz. There is no in-between, 

And while I'm on the subject of roses (am I ever not on the subject of roses these days?), let me say that I am not the only one carrying gardening into what I think of as "nearly winter" season. Several of my planted roses too, have forgotten that they should be laying down their heads and going to sleep for the winter now.

(I am really not a fan of red roses, but I do not have the heart to mess with this one -- Frida Kahlo, one of my very first purchases, when all I cared about was putting in something with a strong bloom. Kahlo is a very strong bloomer.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

And now Millie naps, while Ed and I drive to Janesville, 

It reminds me so much of all the trips he and I have taken together to various points in Wisconsin and beyond. And I have to wonder -- why have we stopped? Again, I think that's on me. I never want to drive anywhere, because like Ed, I find driving to be tediously boring. I've turned into a very local person who occasionally likes to go to France. My weird orbit!

Ed tested the car and found it to be acceptable. It surprised him that the owner let it go for $1600. He would have paid more. He'll be spending the next several days detailing it, switching out the wheels, fixing minor glitches. 

Ed and I have such different interests! And yet, here we are... 

 

Having already left Millie in her crate for a couple of hours, I decide to forgo gardening and stay in with her. I have plenty of tidying and dinner prep work to do!

Yes, the young family is here for the evening meal, probably the last one we will have with any amount of  daylight in it. [Next week, we have a clock fall back. I've been preparing Millie for that change, but, like Henry, she is resistant. Wakes up at 6:30 and can be stalled until 7, but not later. Move that back an hour and see where it gets us...] 

One of the grandkids had a run in with their big, overly friendly dog last night, which resulted in a front tooth break (yes, it was an adult tooth). I was glad to see that the trauma of that was tucked away, for now anyway. All was calm. 

For one fleeting moment, even the dogs were calm.

 

 

(The canine calm did not last. Their play is always... energetic. Carpets fly, friendly growls are plentiful.)

I alternate dinners here for them between seafood and chicken. Tonight was seafood night. 

 

 

 

 

 

Evening. A quiet moment for me to take stock. Of how good the day was. Of my chocolate supply. Of Millie's growth and development. Of how lucky I am to have a garden that will, come spring time, bring color to the neighborhood. To my life.

with so much love...