As I went out to milk, what do you think greeted my eyes?
Sheep, grazing contentedly, or was that defiantly, out in the hayfield.
"Foiled," I thought to myself, finished the milking, then hiked out to herd them back to the legal pastures. I found the hole they made in my poor patching job, reinforced it, the back to the house.
Rachel and Jason and kids in tow came out to help us with some jobs. Then many other friends dropped by to help unload the wonderful "new to us" bakery equipment into the house. After they scrubbed and cleaned and helped take door and frame apart to make room for the oversize monster.
What was especially nice was that several of the friends were unexpected drop-in friends who pitched in with mopping and moving stuff and rearranging stainless steel tables, and mill and other good stuff.
Rachel and I sat out on the deck to share lunch. As the sun warmed us, we talked about Philip. About how weird it is for me to consider myself a widow. About all the crazy thoughts that come to mind. About heaven. About grief. About grace.
We looked at some photos of the farmhouse. Before and afters. Philip worked so hard to make the house beautiful for me. He stripped brown latex paint off of the banister and the stairs. He gutted the kitchen to find the beautiful bones for me. He removed the paneling and the plaster off of the old brick chimney in the kitchen because he knew I would like it. He cut a hole in the wall of the kitchen one night and built a window where there was none so I would be able to look out and see the pond and the weeping willow. He scraped and painted and patched and rebuilt every single room. Except for the little upstairs bathroom which bothered him to no end, but I was worried about how poorly he felt and told him I couldn't stand another construction project because I was afraid it would be too much for him.
Working over the breakfast room/school room, turning it into a bakery was quite a big job today. We are not quite done. But it looks right and good. Looks like it is going to work. I think Philip would be so pleased to see how well everyone worked together.
So I milked Coco, strained the milk, we all grabbed supper together in the jumbled up dining room, and said goodbyes and see ya tomorrows since it is home church day. Kids are exhausted. While we old ones worked, the young ones stomped in the creek, looked for frog's eggs and rode bikes on the driveway. They are sunburned and dirty. We put the majority of the coats in the attic. We are confident that the first day of spring means the long hard winter is over, even if it turns cold for a day or two.