Monday, August 30, 2010

The End of the Day.

We said goodbye to Duncan, the piedmontese bull this afternoon.

I had come to feel affection for the gentle giant, the great galoot. Not a mean bone in the body, but so big, all he had to do was casually push his shoulder against fences, gates and big round bales of hay, and like the Israelites after the parting of the red sea, he would effortlessly pass through.

Have I mentioned how important boundaries are in relationships? Both the humankind and animal kind?

The herd will miss Duncan. But as much as we enjoyed his protective presence, he grew to think that the grass was greener on the other side of the fence and didn't respect the limitations set upon him. Maybe someday I will be a really great fence builder/maintainer, and then we can have him come back for another extended stay. But for now, hasta la vista, big boy.

Can you believe it was 98 degrees in town today? But it was a dry heat, as we like to say in Texas. The humidity wasn't nearly as bad. I wish I could have been working in the garden or cleaning out the barn, but had to work on IEP for Thomas and dentist visits for the girls and grocery store for all of us. All necessary parts of my work. Very thankful for all the teachers and administrators who are tending to my children's education. We pray for them every morning as we hurriedly try to get it all pulled together.

After reading to the girls, milking Coco and straining the milk and getting the dishwasher loaded and helping Patrick with some science questions for his homework, I poured myself a half a glass of wine and went out to the deck for a few minutes. The moon was not yet up and the stars were so bright. The brightest I have seen them in days. Weeks.

Evening is peaceful. I should be asleep, but I am appreciating the freedom to have a few minutes of peace, all by myself. Nora's deep breathing harmonizes so sweetly with the crickets and frogs and other evening creatures. For a few minutes I can forget about the long list of things I haven't finished yet. Can forget about the weedeating and the gardening and the barn cleaning and the canning. The worries about the kids and their adjustment. The odds and ends in the house that I have been neglecting for weeks.

Right now I can listen to Nora breathe and crickets chirp and frogs sing. I can almost hear the stars pulsing in the heavens. And will try to be still for a few minutes. Tomorrow is another day.


Still Tall, Still Grey, and not so non said...

I know how it feels to be a "Duncan", and have things break too easily around me. Sort of like "Puff" Florin, small chairs are not made for us. You, Ms Ginger Hillery, have com a long way in just the month of August. I first read about you on the 15th of August, and that caused me to go back through your blogs a couple of years. There was much to read about this woman with a backbone of spring steel. She was willing to bend, but she would not break. In just 2 weeks you have caused me to go back and rethink a lot of decisions that I have made in the last 10 years. I'm still Tall and Grey, but maybe not so nonbelieving anymore. Your spirit alone brings about changes in people. You inspire trust where there was none. You make strangers friends, and I do believe you have never met anyone who left the worst for having spoken with you. I don't get out much, but I am going to make an effort to get to one of your market days just to meet you and try some of this "bread of life". said...

Well, Tall, I know there are more than a couple of people who would disagree with you about a thing or two. Sometimes my mouth gets me in trouble. Oh who can tame the tongue? But I appreciate your kind words and trust that the things you attribute to me have probably been percolating in your heart for a very long time. I pray that he who began a good work in you would be faithful to complete it.