This morning we slept in. Then we enjoyed a nice breakfast of waffles. And the newspaper. And plenty of coffee.
What a nice thing to have a break from the farmer's market. Our first family at home breakfast on a Saturday for months. The boys took care of some farm chores. The girls played and practiced the piano. I washed clothes and made my bed. And filled out some papers and filed some papers.
We went into town to run an errand and greet a friend. Came home and enjoyed a visit by some friends who dropped in. Nora and I took a walk up to the upper fields to check on the sheep and the cows and to get some fresh air. The setting sun lit the ridge on fire. It looked like burnished bronze. Nora and I were happy to get warmed up by the nice woodstove.
Hamburger patties, organic grass-fed, of course, seasoned with some soy sauce and carmelized onions, went deliciously with sauteed cabbage and red peppers and onions and garlic. Liberally dosed with toasted sesame oil. The girls played Uno while I read from an anthology of poetry. I had forgotten how I loved Shelley.
Sad and lonely feelings, worries about the unfinished tasks, all quite heavy and burdensome, seem almost bearable, in such a homey setting. For a moment I forgot that today has enough troubles of its own as I worried about the mountains of worries that loom in my future. We are so exhausted from the year, I sometimes wonder if I can keep moving. But then the girls practice the piano, I taste delicious dinner, I see the ridge light up, I feel a sweet daughter play with my hair and a son massage my neck, and I know we will be able to keep moving. Step by step. Day by day.
PS I thank God for the many friends who have supplied us with firewood. Our house is cozy and warm. May they have their gifts returned to them a thousand times.