As temporary curator again, I’m moving the gallery around a bit, this morning went to the Round House Cafe for an exercise in perspective. First I did my windowsill from the inside. See next post for the other.
Simon has every reason to be mean-spirited and wary, he is not unless you go after his grain. He loves people, loves attention, he loves Maria and I, and we return the favor. We each give him a kiss on the nose almost every morning. This is something he expects and we have come to love to do. Kissing a donkey is the best way to get your day going, it sets the tone.
We got up early, went out to the pasture to say hello to the donkeys, we went to the Round House, Maria had a blueberry crepe that ought to be illegal. There is a balloon festival in our town this weekend, it is neat to see them gliding around, although I never like photographing balloons, they all look alike and the sky is always the same – they only fly in calm blue skies. Going to the dump then mowing, then working on Chapter One of “Talking To Animals.” I love working on this book.
The Americade is being held this week in Lake George, thousands of bikes from everywhere rumbling along the road. I like the bikers a lot, they are nice people, they are courteous and wave, but the ground shakes when they roar by. Frieda is frantic trying to keep them all away.
Ma, the Good Mother, recovers. Her belly is filling out, her udder is full, her babies are getting bigger and stronger. The two white animals continue to radiate a spiritual presence, the blood and seat and uncertainty of lambing is fading. I can see now that the pregnancy was literally killing Ma, no more breeding for her, but she is a natural mother, a good mother, and now a healthy mother.
