Tuesday

We finally butchered the meat chickens, a spare turkey and a handful of roosters. The sun was shining and we worked in short sleeves.

The sun felt curative.

As some of us processed chickens, Nora and Rose rode bikes up and down the driveway. A friend came over to look at the broken down tractor and had a tow truck come take it to his diesel shop in Salem.

After icing down poultry and eating some fabulous Papa John's pizza, Julie, the girls and I tackled Rose's room.

Rose's room used to be a hallway/linen closet. At some point it became evident that she needed a little space and privacy. I moved her bed in there, but there was no wiggle room at all. We tore out part of the closet wall, used screwdrivers and hammers and a mallet to whack and wham and yank and pull. Philip probably would have done the job a little differently but we took joy in sharing his ambitious adventurous remodeling spirit. Sheet rock dust flew and so did quarter round, screws and nails, but with some perseverance we were able make a good bit of progress.

We also moved around furniture in Nora's room and did some clothes sorting. A few bags of winter things ready to go to the attic tomorrow. Hopefully the dreadfully long winter is over. We kept a few things out for chilly days, but everything else is ready for a long spring and summer nap.

By evening I was tired, cranky and feeling the need for alone time. Didn't get it. But did get a great dinner courtesy of our dear friend. I was glad to see the children eating and chattering. Papaw sure did look tired after his hard day of work.

The children and I tried to remember many different things about Philip this evening. We remembered dancing in the kitchen this Valentine's Day eve. Rose remembered having Philip teach her about soldering. We remembered how he loved to eat cheeseburgers. And pasta. Plain. With butter and salt. And a little more butter. I asked Thomas what he remembered that his dad taught him. He said that there were too many things to list.

Rose asked if she could have Philip's dad's old Underwood typewriter in her room. She would go out to his office when he would work and type letters to her friends. All the other kids and I agreed that this was definitely something for Rose. I am glad that she will have that typewriter to cherish.

I don't know what to do with the house being so nice and warm. All the way up to 70 degrees in my room tonight.

Oh, by the way, Ophelia had her babies today, way up in the upper field. One little lamb had troubles in birthing and didn't make it, but the other little fellow is just fine. Patrick brought down the baby to put him and mama in a stall and Ophelia almost took his arm off, trying to keep him from stealing her baby. The other lambs were playing on the fallen down apple tree in the field outside the back of the barn. They would climb up and hop down, over and over. The little goat kiddies ran over to join them, it looked like so much fun. Playground on the farm.

So weird to have so many lovely things in the midst of such surreal emotions and exhaustion.