It has been a wild couple of weeks–as always in the first couple of weeks of May.

Spring planting has pretty much wrapped up, and now it’s time to consider summer planting and transplanting–all those tomatoes and peppers and eggplant and ground cherries–the summer and winter squash, the beans, the cukes, the melons.

CSA deliveries and the farmers market started last week–spring semester grading wrapped up and prepwork for summer session classes got underway.  I’ve got just one summer class so far–the second section didn’t fill and has been slated to start in a month if we can get enough enrollments.

Last Friday, I made most of the updates to the class that went live at midnight last night.  Then, I shut down my machine and headed off to Brookings to pick up M for the final weekend visit before he finishes his school year and comes down for the summer vacation.

We had an interesting weekend–spent some time strolling around Brookings before heading back–there was live music on the street, and we had a few Nick’s Hamburgers, played a little bean bag toss on their patio, and did a little window shopping, too.

Saturday morning, he was late in rising (we’d stayed up and watched a movie ’til eleven or so), but the lure of the neighbors having yard sales was enough to get him into day clothes and out the door.  What he did NOT want to do, he informed me, was go out to the farm.

But, you know, we pretty much had to go out to the farm and at least get a couple small things done.  It was a bit of teeth-pulling for that hour or two we were out, and I got frustrated, too, with the amount of mowing and out-of-control weeds and projects that I knew I just wasn’t going to get done in my small window of time.

And then H and I stood and talked about the machinery and tall grass issues for another fifteen minutes while M sat in the truck and got really annoyed that I’d said we were going and we weren’t.

So, we headed back into town and went out for ice cream as a reward for M’s patience.  After that, while sitting on the front step contemplating the rest of the day, M asked if we could go back out and spend the night at the farm.


It turns out, the difference between going out to the farm in the mid-morning or afternoon to work and going out to the farm in the late afternoon to “camp” are completely separate things in the mind of M–the former sucks and the latter rocks.

I guess I can work with that–because one or two hours in the middle of the day with a not-very-happy companion constantly asking, “can we go now?” is also not as fun or productive for me, either, as three or four hours of work in the evening and another two or three early the next morning.

Of course, I still didn’t get everything done in those hours as needs to be done–but there’s really no way to ever get done all that needs to be done–there’s the hot-plate issues that absolutely need to be brought under control ASAP, and there’s a constant supply of other projects to tackle if the urgent issues abate even for a day.

Another “score for mom” (and for M) this weekend was the final perfecting of a recipe at home that’s as good as the store-bought stuff–maybe even better.

I’m sure other moms deal with this issue too–your child loves a certain food they’ve gotten at school or someone else’s house or at a restaurant, and you try to create a more wholesome version at home, and they don’t like it.

This weekend, there were no Annie’s pasta meals in the cupboard.  While Annie’s meals are probably pretty high up there in terms of quality of boxed mac n’ cheese, I hate buying those pre-packaged, expensive meals.

This weekend, I mixed up a version with whole wheat penne and a blend of homemade soft goat cheese and yogurt, and he LOVED it!  And no, I did not tell him I made it with cheese I made at home with raw goat’s milk.  I just let him gobble it up, and the next day, instead of asking if we could get a pasta meal from the store, he asked for my version again.

Total. Score.

Altogether this weekend, my learning curve and success rate were both high–I can get infinitely more accomplished and with a happier child and a happier me if I simply grasp the perspective of my child–that making a “work trip” isn’t fun, but taking a “camping trip” is a blast.

And dairy products are the key to a little boy’s heart.

Part one of a two-part post.  To read on, click here.


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