All is well.
She and I ran into town to Lowes to pick up house stuff, then to Krogers for the necessary rations. Kids built dams and played in the creek and threw mud.
We prepared a couple of Farmer Dayna's delicious chickens and made a big salad and while dinner cooked we walked three laps around the hay field. Patrick and Max worked on the creek sculpture. Fred ran and leaped in the field and splashed in the creek. Nora swung on the rope swing. Rose played with the fellows. Maggie and Mary told secrets on the bridge (well, I don't really know what they were talking about, but that sounds more poetic.) We all ate dinner together on the deck. Thomas washed the dishes. Kathryn and I sat out on the front porch with our glasses of wine to talk about important things like God and literature and family and imperfection and waited for the whipporwills while I rocked Nora and the rest of the kids set up their tents and pallets outside. The whipporwills never came, but we had a wonderful moment of peace and joy.
Isn't it wonderful how across the street neighbors from all those years ago in New Jersey are still some of our dearest friends? The children used to be toddlers. Now they are teenagers, getting ready to acquire their learner's permits. We have weathered many storms. Now we celebrate this last of summers on the farm and wonder about the new Texas adventures that await us.
All is well when Kathryn and the kids and Fred are here. I am glad.