Father and Son

Father and Son
Their first walk together.

Both T's at the pasture gate

Both T's at the pasture gate
T2 isn't sure about the goats. They look a little scary.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Sad and Happy Together

First, it is almost impossible to type one-handed. Second, when you are 7 months old and eating in Mom's arms, the clicking and lights from the computer are so interesting that it is hard to finish the breakfast you had ordered earlier.

C twittered "bummer." She summed up yesterday. The weather reflected the way I felt: cloudy and drab. Today isn't going to be much better. I took my oldest daughter, L, to Atlanta to the airport to go home. She may not be my legal daughter, but she is my daughter in my heart, where it counts. It was very hard to keep my composure. Everyone cried. I knew that if I let myself, I would cry all the way back home. Crying makes driving difficult. Even by plane she is now 12 hours away. At the airport, B and T2 sobbed; T1, C and L held each other and wept; even K got in on the act. She wrapped her arms around L's neck and wouldn't let go. Taking her to the airport was perhaps the hardest thing I have ever done. We didn't have enough time together. Two weeks is way too short. She had to leave just as the party was getting started. I know we can talk on the computer, but I am going to miss her hugs and seeing her napping on the couch. Even Nugget, the dog, is mopey today.

Children have a way of brightening even the darkest moments. K is standing in our sunroom with my bedroom slippers on her tiny feet. They are sock monkey slippers! She is planning to go to the barn with T1 to take care of the goats. N is standing beside me smiling. He is sucking up because a moment ago he pulled his diaper bag off the table and emptied it onto the floor.

We just had an Easter egg hunt; only we used shoes, namely K's. Now she is running through the house to the backdoor.

I have been looking for baby chicks. Last fall I sold my chickens because my coop was in great need of repair. Now I wish I had kept them. They were good young laying hens, not even a year old.

The day is in full swing, and I am still sitting in front of the computer screen.

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