This afternoon Nora, Rose, Brownie and Blackie and I walked up to the far pasture to bring back Coco so we could separate her for milking. The middle pastures are too steep for mowing for hay. The grass is tall. The cows are happy to graze up there. It was a nice hike. Cool. Damp. Feels like my very favorite season of the year, fall. I know we have plenty more dog days to come. But the earth is turning and we are nearing the end of the summer season. The end is in sight.
Thank God for the seasons.
I took another nap early this afternoon. Why am I so tired? I have hardly worked the last two days. It was a sweet nap. Zaccheus, our cat, climbed up for a cuddle. Since Philip died she rarely comes to our bed. She was a comfort to me this afternoon.
I had emails to write and laundry to wash, but it seemed good to rest.
After my nap and our hike the girls and I sat out on the front porch to read our evening chapters. We are reading Charlotte's Web, one of my favorites. I sat in the rocker with Nora in my lap, Rose was in the ratty old blue wicker chair. Coco munched on grass in the front yard. The mama hen and her babies followed along, snagging their supper, cackling and cheeping. The guinea tribe hunted bugs up along the driveway and their babies peeped and screeched, doing an amazing job of keeping up with the grownups. Sheep made their way into the barn, goats maaed to one another.
Even though I feel pretty lonely without Philip this weekend, I wondered at how content I am here on the farm. Crickets chirp. Rocker creaks. Girls giggle at the part in the story when Fern's brother tries to get Charlotte with a stick, trips, tumbles and falls on Wilbur's trough, breaking the rotten goose egg. They have smelled rotten eggs before. They can imagine the fumes.
As overwhelmed as I get with farm responsibilities and parenting responsibilities, and as sad as I get about Philip's death, it is odd that I can feel that life is good. What a paradox.