I went to knitting group yesterday morning. There were only three of us attending. One had business to attend to. Another tested positive for covid about half an hour before she was to head to town. Too many people aren’t testing anymore. I believe they figure if they don’t test, they can’t have covid. I am grateful this gal listened to her husband and tested to be sure. I may be the only person around here who hasn’t had it! But, I am militant with hand washing and I wear a mask, no matter what.

One of my knitting friends came in with two black eyes and a terribly swollen and blackened hand. She fell on Friday, carrying a bag in each hand. Nothing seems to be broken, thank God. But, I’m telling you…we are getting to the age when falls are becoming more commonplace. Two of my knitting pals have crossed the threshold of their 80’s and they warn that their kids have started “mothering” them. 

I was thinking the other day about my escapades with the camper after Mr. Virgo died. Traveling cross country alone, towing a camper through cities and countryside. I wonder how long I’ll be able to travel solo? Will I ever take the camper to Colorado on my own again? I really don’t know. I was only sixty when I first started towing alone. I’m not nearly ready to quit that. I just don’t know at what point I should consider it. I guess I’ll know when the time comes. At least, I hope I do.

I got to the farm early yesterday afternoon. Once I got all settled in, I fixed myself something to eat and sat on the porch listening to the birds. Northern Cardinal, Black-capped Chickadee, Tufted Titmouse, Song Sparrow, Carolina Wren, Robin, White-breasted Nuthatch, American Crow, Eastern Bluebird, Blue Jay…all calling and singing, chattering and swooping in and out of the Flowering Quince that lines the crest of the creek along the house. The Daffodils out back across from the old outhouse are starting to bloom. The little Chipmunk that lives under the old ramp off the back porch skittered around nervously. Red Shouldered Hawks circling high about the woods on top of the far ridge were too far away to hear.

Someone around here is logging. I could hear the heavy equipment and the logging trucks as they slowly maneuvered their way out with their heavy loads. Perhaps I take a drive up the road today and see where the muddy tracks come out on the road to find out where they are working. A couple of loads drove buy some time after I got here, but they aren’t the big double trailers. They must be working in tight quarters.

The temperature was well in the 70’s as I sat and soaked up the sun on the front porch…my book lying unopened on my lap…a cup of tea in hand. I took a deep breath of spring and sighed in contentment. The house itself smells exactly as it did when I was a little girl and I never fail to smile in remembrance when I cross the threshold. 

I’ll probably go home tomorrow. The deadline for entering photos of the items donated to the Girl Camper Raffle is Thursday. I need to finish a pair of socks that I brought with me. And finish the book I’m reading and at least get started on the taxes. If I complete these things, along with ample porch sitting, I’ll have accomplished what I came for.

My knitting friend Loretta is either-two years old. She has been married since she was sixteen. I told her at group yesterday that I was heading out to The Farm after for a little R&R. As we were saying goodbye, she called out, “Enjoy you alone time!” I laughed an called back, “You know…in about eight hours, I’ll be missing my husband and thinking of heading back!” She just smiled and nodded in understanding.

☘️

”Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.”“

Hosea 6:3 NIV

#Spring, #TheFarm, #Memories