Fleeting.

This morning I asked Thomas to do a feed inventory after I milked Coco.
Sure enough, one bag of non-GMO dairy cattle food left. The laundry was washed, way too hot to work in the garden, seemed like a perfect day to run errands. We loaded up the paperwork, dropped some off at a couple of schools, ran to the NEW Goodwill in Daleville (Yeay! We love Goodwill.) Didn't find the loaf pans I was hunting for the bakery, but both Thomas and I found a couple of "new" books and I found a cute outfit.

Then off to Stuart's Draft for a feed run. I enjoyed singing with the pop radio, Nora napped and Thomas and Rose read books. We were thanking God for the a/c as the temperatures crept up to 96 degrees. I usually try to do most of the shopping at Goodwill, but hadn't had any recent luck in finding the right size loaf pans so we made a stop in K Mart and found 12 the right size! I bought them all. Along with some lipstick. (So I am vain. A girl has to have a little fun!)

We ate some short ribs we left cooking all day long and tried to work through some farm management stuff. I wrote out a list and asked the boys to make sure the feed got off loaded and placed in the right places. Then the sky darkened, a cloud descended on our valley, and an awakening electricity replaced the sluggish calm. We ran out to the truck. The boys began to unload but we realized we were too late. They cleared a path and I parked in the milking area. Thankful to have a spot out of the rain!

The girls and I grabbed Charlotte's Web, intent on reading in our favorite spot, the cozy chairs on the front porch.

"Boom! Crash! Splash!"

The storm descended with a fury, twisting the willows in a furious dance. The rain chased us off the chairs and into the door frame. We couldn't bear to enter the house, it was so fresh and alive outside and so hot and sticky inside. We watched the flashes, counted the seconds, thrilled in the shower, and merrily watched the stream form as the happy water rushed from the National Forests, the road and our barn roof toward the stream.

As the wind shifted, the rain quit hitting us in the face and I commenced the reading.

Tonight we read one of my favorite chapters in Charlotte's Web.

"Dr. Dorian"

Fern's mother, Mrs. Arable, is quite concerned with Fern's behavior. She wonders why Fern shows no interest in her own friends and would prefer to pass her free time in the barn cellar, making up stories about the animals. Especially her bottle fed pig, Wilbur.

Dr. Dorian doesn't seem a bit perplexed by Fern's behavior. In one very brief visit he calms Mrs. Arable's fears and covers some pretty amazing territory in regards to miracles, faith and developmental psychology.

I especially like his thoughts on Charlotte's web:

"Well, who taught a spider? A young spider knows how to spin a web without any instructions from anybody. Don't you regard that as a miracle?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Arable. "I never looked at it that way before. Still, I don't understand how those words got into the web. I don't understand it, and I don't like what I can't understand."

"None of us do," said Dr. Dorian, sighing. "I'm a doctor. Doctors are supposed to understand everything. But I don't understand everything, and I don't let it worry me."

We ended the chapter. The storm passed. The evening is cooler for the moment.

Patrick is going to milk for me so I can go to sleep and get ready for an early morning of baking, thanks to Tim and the new motor. I think I will start extra early since tomorrow is supposed to get extra hot.

August. Summer is nearing her end, but not without a flash of steamy personality and a few scorching glances. Yesterday evening Rose and I walked the driveway to say goodbye to our visitor. As we walked back to the house in the dusk, we remembered the days of shoveling and shoveling snow in the driveway.

Was that a hundred years ago?