I finally, FINALLY went to the Monona farmer’s market for the first time a couple of Sundays ago. Sheesh, what took me so long? We also went again last Sunday.

We used to be devotees of the Hilldale Farmer’s market. So I was pleased to see Farmer John selling cheese at the Monona farmer’s market. We were regular customers of his at Hilldale so it was nice to see a familiar friendly face. I highly recommend his cheese – my kids love his cheese curds.

In addition to the usual veggies, there are also vendors selling honey, maple syrup, kettle corn, coffee, baked goods, and fresh homemade pasta (including gluten-free pasta – two of us in my family can’t eat gluten/wheat so this was a treat. Fresh pasta is by far better than the regular stuff).

The farmer’s market closes at 1:00 p.m. and we usually can’t arrive until after 12:00. But, as we discovered, there are deals to be had if you show up late, such as tomatoes for only $1 per pound. Huge, red, juicy homegrown tomatoes.

The Monona market is on Broadway next to the Ahuska tennis courts and the soccer field and is probably about half the size of the Hilldale market – but it sure beats fighting the crowds on the square on Saturday morning.

So, if you’ve been foolish like me and haven’t gone to the Monona farmer’s yet….go!

   Twelve years ago today we woke to our first day of living in a place called Monona.

    Although it is a blur of small children and excited energy we recall falling in love with our new town right away.

    A steady stream of new neighbors appeared on our doorstep to introduce themselves and offer us help, if we needed it.

    All these years later moving to Monona is still the best decision we ever made.

    We have had a series of houseguests since early June. It will go on pretty strong til mid-July. One of our neighbors recently told me, as our current group of guests go on their eleventh day, that houseguests are like fish–they should be thrown out after three days.
    

    Monona  lends itself to hosting houseguests.  Summer is the time when people seem to visit the most.  This time of year, as we approach the Fourth of July Festival, carnival and fireworks display, our modest three-bedroom ranch takes on the life of a hotel.

    Over the years there have some big adventures within these walls.  A few awkward moments also as our family of seven shares one bathroom with our series of houseguests. 

    Some guests bring their pets.  More than once we have run through yards after a wayward dog, getting to know our neighbors better than we should.  Once a guest insisted on keeping his dog on a leash in our home the entire time because we do not have a fence around our property.  A large dog kennel took over our bedroom for several visits.

     Most of our guests bring children.  We had anxious first-time parents who insisted no fans run during the entire time they stayed–because the fans would disturb the baby.  A surprise to us as our five kids slept through anything.  It was a summer visit, quite warm.  Long after a group left the smell we had been wondering about turned out to be a meal children with one group did not like.  They had shoved plates of it behind the sofa on the three-season porch.  Many a teenage drama played out before us over the years.

    We have had several types of guests over the years.

     There are the ’spare-of-the- moment guests’ who phone that they are on their way from the road.  Could we please have a spread of food waiting?  These calls have come often, sometimes at two in the morning.

    The ‘reluctant guest’ is hesitant to come.  They must be convinced.  When it is time to leave there is always a long goodbye, sometimes taking several days as they extend their stay.

     We have had the ’Bring Along’ guests who had to bring extra people with them.  It was impossible to leave anyone out of the plans.   We found room, of course.

     There are the ‘Early Drivers’ who insist on waking the entire house so we will all be able to stand in the driveway to wave goodbye–at three in the morning.  They prefer to drive when there is little traffic.  Blinking away sleep, holding off tempers, gather to see them off we do.

    But there is always fun to be had. 

    For years snow we saved from winter was made into snowballs on a hot July Day. Countless Christmas trees were decorated, patriotic often, for Christmas in July celebrations.  We have stayed up all night changing the themes in the house from Halloween to Thanksgiving then Christmas to get in all the holidays we would miss together.  Valentine’s Day bled into Saint Patrick’s Day one year in a long weekend visit that ended with an Easter Egg Hunt.    

    Our guests have gone with the flow. 

     One Fourth of July when the temps were near a hundred the entire time our air conditioner was not working.  We took turns taking car rides, desperate to find reason to leave the house, for a bit of relief.  A flood in the bathroom, caused by a diaper stuffed down the toilet,  rushed into the hallway and foyer over the wood floors.  Guests helped clean up.   When freezing rain hit we had guests helping to chip ice from the driveway. One weekend guests built a room in the basement for us. 

    Having so many guests has perks.  We have experienced Monona and Madison through the eyes of visitors.  That always leaves us in a bit of awe over where we live. 

    Houseguests might be like fish–best thrown out after three days.  But in the end we find ourselves like the woman with many children who forgets the pain of childbirth.   After it is all said and done we are exhausted and worse for wear muttering we will never do it again…until next time.

Yesterday afternoon it was 86 degrees and sunny and for some reason I decided my options were the following:

* Mow the backyard OR

* Go to the driving range at the Monona golf course.

I chose the driving range.

I should emphasize that I haven’t golfed regularly since college. It’s hard to devote the time and money necessary to play golf when you have kids. Also, none of my local friends play golf. And for me golf has mostly been something to do with your hands while you talk.

For some reason I got it into my head late last summer that going to the driving range on a weekly basis could be a fun thing to do. I only went once last summer and yesterday was the first time I’ve been this year.

I like the driving range at Monona because the tees are all-grass and not those dumb rubber tees. I wish the small buckets of balls cost less than $6.50 though. Twenty cents per ball seems steep, especially when you hit as many slices as I do. If all my shots were straight as an arrow I might be willing to pay as much as a quarter for each shot, just because it’s so satisfying to hit a shot like that.

My two youngest daughters insisted on accompanying me yesterday even though I assured them that watching me hit 30-35 shots would be as boring as could be.

I had hoped that by going on a hot weekday afternoon we’d have the driving range to ourselves but, alas, another person was there, which meant I had to shush the girls regularly.

I put them in charge of handing balls and tees to me, which they did happily, and I proceeded to unhappily hit lots and lots of slices. The vast majority of my shots were 125-175 yards (I only brought a 3 wood with me), so I was pleased about that. But it’s impossible to focus on the good things when you are also making errors (kinda like real life).

I kept making adjustments to my grip and stance and back swing and it seemed the less I paid attention to correcting the slice, the better my shots were.

The downside is that, during those shots where I hit it well because I wasn’t paying attention, I was unable to recreate it for the next shot because I couldn’t remember what I did.

See why I prefer that golf simply be something to do with your hands while you talk? When golf becomes all about golf then it heads too quickly into OCD territory. Before you know it you find yourself coming home from the driving range and doing google searches about how to fix slices when you could be, oh, having a life or something. This is one reason I haven’t ever pushed golf to my kids and encouraged tennis instead.

When I was down to my last 3 shots yesterday I was exhausted and could barely hit them. I secretly hoped I had made golfing as unappealing as possible to my daughters and that they would beg never to come back to the driving range.

But as we left  they both asked about taking lessons at the Monona golf course.

It’s probably just because they are still young enough to think that the things mom does are worth emulating.

Or maybe they were just taken with my talk of pink Flying Lady golf balls (my preferred golf ball).

But who knows. Maybe it means in a few years I’ll have two golf companions and golf will again assume its rightful place as something to do with your hands while you talk.

Last Saturday my youngest daughters begged to go to the pool.

So I did the sensible thing and suggested a trip to Schluter park and Monona Bait & Ice Cream instead.

Sitting on a bench and gazing at a body of water that isn’t surrounded by concrete and throngs of people worked for me. The kids played happily and worked up an appetite for a treat. Eventually we made our way across the street to Monona Bait & Ice Cream.

Did you know they have Coke there in glass bottles… Coke made with real sugar, not high fructose corn syrup? Aaaahhh.

I also had the pleasure of introducing my eight-year-old to Pop Rocks candy, which was one of my favorite candies as a kid. My daughter had never heard of it before and found it as delightful as I once did.

We also discovered that Tootsie Pops now come in new flavors, like blueberry, banana and pomegranate in neon colored wrappers. This was news to me. I stuck with the traditional cherry flavor.

I ordered french fries for myself and didn’t mind waiting ten minutes for them because there was a nice breeze on the porch.

And, oh yeah. They serve ice cream there. Just in case you forgot. One daughter had blue moon, another had chocolate.

All in all not a bad way to avoid the pool.

After a seven year hiatus, my daughters and I have rediscovered the joys of walking through the meadow and prairie at Aldo Leopold Nature Center.

Why a seven year hiatus, you ask?

Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but in the summer of 2002, while traipsing through the Edna Taylor prairie at the nature center with my (then) infant daughter and two oldest daughters (ages 6 and 9 at the time) we managed to get lost.

After walking in circles with two tired children – and getting mighty weary of lugging the infant – I was reduced to calling the nature center from my cell phone to ask how I could get to a path that would get us out of there.

The lady who answered the phone didn’t seem to bat an eyelash, but I couldn’t help but wonder if, after hanging up, she leaned over to her co-workers and laughed and said exactly what Bugs Bunny does in this five second video. She certainly would have had every reason to.

After this Lost in the Prairie episode, my two oldest no longer begged to go to the nature center.

I then proceeded to have another baby, started a business and, well, the nature center fell off our radar screen.

Fast forward to today and, this spring, my youngest daughters and I have visited the nature center several times already.

We’ve spotted bluebirds in the meadow and enjoy walking through the tall grass to get to the little island. Walking on paths like this reminds me of the show Lost. It reminds my daughters of Little House on the Prairie (a show they are very into right now, via YouTube).

Only today did we finally dare to venture into the prairie.

We didn’t go very far but enjoyed the shady trail. We weren’t even bothered by the carrion, low branches that we had to duck under, goose poop and mud.

Actually, that’s what I like the most about Aldo Leopold…there’s nothing fussy about it. It’s rustic and peaceful. Weeds are allowed.  As much as I enjoy my flower gardens at home, and going to places like Olbrich Gardens, they are fussier places. So it’s nice to go to Aldo Leopold and feel like you’re in the middle of nowhere even though you’re still in Monona.

 Reading The Front Porch Times gives us great ideas for enjoying Monona.  Recently we had the pleasure of trying TASTE OF CHINA, a Monona business suggested a few weeks back.  The ideas for summer fun in Monona aside from the pool will be a treat to try this season.  Slip N Slide, Popsicles at Copps , sprinklers and the various parks sound like a blast.  But for us summer in Monona is the pool. 

This means that in addition to surviving having the children home during the summer I must also come up with Ways To Avoid Going To The Pool.

Oh, I do take my youngest kids to the pool sometimes. But not as often as they beg me too.

I think it’s great Monona has a pool but I’m just not a pool person. I don’t like to swim and the pool experience in general can be summarized as follows: TMI.

I activated step 1 of Ways To Avoid Going To The Pool a couple of days ago by buying a fun sprinkler for them that shoots water in different directions.

Last year a Slip N Slide served in this capacity but, as to be expected, they lost interest in a couple of weeks.

Trips to a park or Aldo Leopold Nature Center (if it’s not too hot), trips to the library or Monona Bait & Ice Cream (if it’s too hot) also work as Ways To Avoid Going To The Pool.

Getting popsicles from Copps is occasionally effective.

Piles of books and Little House on the Prairie YouTube videos suffice as well.

Getting one of their big sisters to take them to the pool for me is the most glorious of the options but, sadly, it rarely happens. In my more desperate moments I offer to pay them a babysitting fee to take them to the pool.

Now that I think of it, the Ways To Avoid Going To The Pool activities make up most of our summer fun. So it’s a good thing I don’t like going to the pool.

Happiness is driving down Monona Drive on a Friday afternoon with the windows down while your teenage daughter cranks Petula Clark’s 1966 song “Color My World” on the stereo.

Dear Baby Robins,

I know the proper term is “fledgling” but we like referring to you as baby robins. Anyway, thank you for spending so much time at our grape jelly feeder this week.

In all the years we’ve had a grape jelly feeder, we’ve never had baby robin visitors before. Only orioles and the occasional house finch.

When you first arrived a few days ago I flipped through my bird book, wondering if you were a rare bird. I had never seen an orange speckled breast on a bird before.

Then I saw a robin arrive and put jelly in her beak and transfer it to your beaks. My youngest daughters loved watching your mama feed you.

But already you don’t need her help anymore. I see your mama comes and eats some of the jelly for a snack, and even did so during the heavy rain on Friday when there would’ve been worms a-plenty. I’ve never known an adult robin to eat jelly but I guess even mama robins need a carb fix sometimes.

Oh, by the way. I know you’re still young and all and don’t know the proper etiquette, but would you please not use the grape jelly dish as a bathroom? Let your waste fall to the ground instead. Thank you.

I’ll keep the grape jelly dish stocked as long as you need it. I know you’ll outgrow it soon so good luck out there in the real world.

Kind Regards,

The Ashland Family