90 Degrees?

The day started reluctantly. Kids fussed. Mother fussed. Chores were done much later than I wished. We struggled and slogged. Then something changed.

The girls went out and started playing in the stream. They were there for hours. Swimming in the 8 to 12 inches of running water. Patrick planted a few broccoli and spent hours practicing archery. Thomas and I went to town for a meeting with a lady about Asperger stuff. Then we ran an errand and rewarded ourselves with a trip to Goodwill.

What a great date. I got a stack of clothes and some sandals. He got some shorts and a cool Hawaiian shirt and a bagful of novels and a couple of movies. I spent less than $25 on the clothes and shoes, he spent less than $5. We talked about how much Philip loved Goodwill. Philip worked as a job counselor for Goodwill for a season. He learned to fully appreciate the economy of giving our discards to Goodwill, then going to shop there ourselves. He was green before green was cool! Even on the years where he was making a significant amount of money in investments, he would buy his shoes and clothes there. He considered it an investment in the lives of the folks who worked there. And let's face it, he was a VERY frugal guy.

When we got home, Patrick had lasagna ready for us in the oven. The girls were bathed and we all took our very UN-green paper plates out to the front porch and sat to eat our dinner. It was very peaceful. The sun went down as Patrick shot a few more arrows and Thomas retrieved Coco and Priscilla from the pasture. The girls told me a funny story about how Rose won a dollar off of Patrick who challenged her to a battle of archery. And she won. The air felt delicious. As the kids wandered off, girls to set up their beds on the deck, I remembered how last spring Philip and I would sit out on the deck with the kids and they would all go do their thing and we would talk for hours, way too late. I miss him. I can't believe he is gone.

But I am glad for grace to enable us to continue loving our farm.

As we readied to go inside, Patrick and I both looked out, over the hills, and said to each other,"I am so glad to live here on our farm."

I didn't even have to remind Patrick to catch the couple of escapee hens. He cheerfully went to grab them on his own because he remembered how much they love broccoli.

Tomorrow we hope to plant some more garden. Late, but we are hopeful anyway. The heat can't last. I believe a cold front will hit this weekend. But right now the air is delicious.