Each day since that July morning when I took a ride in an ambulance has been interesting. Some days the earth is steady beneath my feet. Some days I feel as if I am aboard a ship, just begging to be let off.
While I have never been this ill, I have never had a more beautiful place at which to recover.
We have lived at our new place for just a little over a month. While the month has been one of the worst of my life, it has also been one of the best.
The best. Living here on this quiet, blissful farm has proven to be the best thing that has ever happened to us. I can sit on the back porch and watch the best of life swirl around me – deer cross the back hay field on a regular basis, I listen to the call of quail, watch birds of every color sing to me from the white board fence, enjoy the horses and ponies romping in the pasture.
I had not heard the call of “bob white” since I was a very little girl. I remember trying so hard to imitate it perfectly with my older sisters. Now, that quail’s call is quite often my alarm clock as the sun rises on our farm. And now, I hear my son imitate this call with such perfection that my own feeble attempts seem like something out of a comedy routine.
Taking a ride. One night, the day a fairly good one, Doug asked me to ride along with him on the four-wheeler to trace the edges of our farm. The hay had just been mown, the scent spectacular. It was a good night for a ride.
As we neared the back of our property, we spotted the young doe that some people have assumed is a pet of ours. She stays near, darting about as if playing with anyone who ventures here.
She stopped and looked as we approached on the old four-wheeler, a relic that had once been my father-in-law’s pride and joy. The headlight mesmerized this yearling deer for a moment and then she decided to lead the way, showing us her stomping grounds.
Dance a jig. As we made the turn to head back for home, she danced a little jig and headed away from us for the first time since she had spotted us.
We returned to a campfire in our backyard and lots of fun. This has become the place to be for all of our children’s friends, just as our other place had been, and just as I had hoped it would.
Cort’s buddy, Jeff, offered to cook a hot dog over the open fire for me.
“Well, I do want one, but not that one,” I answered. “I’ll take the next one.”
He raised his eyebrows, silently questioning my odd answer. Not a minute later, that hot dog fell in to the fire.
Hey, I’m not a rookie at this stuff, you know.
We all got a good laugh out of that one.
Different, but good. It is different here – different in a very good way. We have tranquility and peace. We have room to roam and ride, and we are blessed with wonderful neighbors.
Priceless blessings, every one.
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