Tuesday, May 24, 2011


The air is fresh this evening.

My to-do list is very long, but an old friend came in from out of state, so after pushing very hard this morning, we took a picnic up the Andy Lane trail down the road. What a gift to stride through woods, alongside rushing creeks, wildflowers and greenery everywhere.

We caught up, prayed together, ate our Subway sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies, and inhaled and exhaled.

It was good.

We were sprinkled upon, but not poured upon.

Some Bhutanese guys were waiting at the top of the driveway for me, looking to buy a goat (they didn't, the babies were two months too small.) We walked out to see animals, and in limited English, had a great chat.

The kids got home and my internal list was screaming to work inside.

The outdoors won.

Fresh air, nice and cool, gentle breeze, compelled every single one of our family to head outside to work on chores. We mowed, planted, mulched, took care of animals, weed-eated.

I heated up leftover pizza for the kids and now they are playing ball on the front lawn. I am due to milk Coco in a few minutes.

The air is so fresh I think I might not be able to stand it. When outside I see the cherries on the tree, beginning to blush. The peaches are like 10 year olds, not quite there yet, but growing so very much every day, you know you will turn around and they will be ready to fulfill their destiny (A lawyer, I wonder, as I think of one particular 10 yr old girl I know? A pie, as I survey our little tree on the backside of the milking parlor?) The weeds. Well. Do we have to talk about the weeds?

I was wondering, as I weed eated (or would that be weed-ate?) if I wished I were like a weed. They are so hardy. They require very little to survive. Even in the harshest conditions they thrive. A few even produce pretty little blossoms.

But as I whacked, and later yanked a few by hand, I decided that I didn't really want to be like a weed. They don't have many friends. I would like to have more people like me, sad to say!!!

Well, the voices outdoors are happy, kids, guineas, peepers, hens. I had better go now, and start readying kids for bath before they turn into howling coyotes!

PS mama duck is still sitting behind the old antique window, leaning against the tractor shed. I guess this is rather morbid thinking, but the thought did cross my mind as I squatted and milked this morning, and saw the male ducks but not the mama, that it sure has been a long time since I had a nice meal of duck. One of my favorite foods. I wonder if we can raise the ducklings up quickly enough to make a meal or two???

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