Ever since we started milking Coco I have been late to church on Sunday mornings. Except for maybe twice. A while back someone asked me if I taught children during the church service. Nope. Just milk the cow and the goats. Occasionally chase the goats back onto our side of the fence. Coax chickens out of my garden and into their yard. Other similar spiritual disciplines.
I try to get up early enough. But sometimes I just want to make breakfast for everyone, and get chores done and put on a dress and comb my hair. Or at least put my hair in a pony tail and slap on some lipstick.
This morning was our friend, John's last morning with us. One of his favorite breakfasts is pancakes, so I wanted to make some nice spelt pancakes and sausage for him. We all enjoyed our breakfast and an extra cup of coffee and a nice Sunday morning chat with the family around the table.
All of a sudden it was time to head to church and I still was in pajamas and hadn't even gone out to the barn. Maggie and I waved good-bye to the gang and headed out to milk. We strained milk, filled up the fridge, and then I got ready to head to church. At 11:30. Better late than never. Driving out of the valley and up the mountain I was listening to a new(to me) CD by Andrew Peterson, LOVE AND THUNDER. One of the songs, Just as I Am, touched my heart so much. I felt loved by God, happy to be my imperfect self, satisfied with life. Funny how some lyricist I don't know, have never met, probably will never meet, can move me. When people do what they were created to do, the world is impacted . This guy's music touches me. He speaks my language. It makes me think of how God is glorified by people doing what they were created to do. Like my dad in the butcher shop, or my mom in her studio, or my sister Terri in her garden or her sewing room, or my sister Christine in her yard, or my friend Donna J organizing a farm group, or my friend teaching highschoolers literature, or, or, or, or...
I guess it was a really cool thing, being late for church and yet feeling totally filled up spiritually, thinking about the love of God and the many things that means to me.
Driving home this afternoon, a springtime thunderstorm blew in. The hay is up in the fields. Unbelievable how absolutely beautiful the rolling hills appear. The wind tumbles down the ridge making waves in the grass. The pending storm seems to turn the leaves to silver. Smoky gray clouds pour into the valley and boom, crack, leaves explode, and rain scatters everything. We drove up to the barn "al filo del agua". (that is reference to a Mexican novel of the same name-at the edge of the storm), and laughed as we watched the animals quickly file into the safety of the dark cozy barn. One little red hen was a bit slower than the other gals and it was so funny seeing her feathers fluffed as she pushed her way past the wind. I could almost hear her say, "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!" as she disappeared into the barn.
Continuing on the theme of "lateness," we are still waiting for Quizzy and Thistle to give birth. In recalculating figures, they really aren't late. They are probably due on Wednesday or a little later. But it feels late. They are so big. It hurts to see those girls waddle out to pasture with their herd. Quizzy, a full-bred Nubian, looks like she is carrying around about 2 gallons of milk in her udder, poor thing. A watched goat never boils, or has babies, or something like that.