Saturday is “dump day” and this Saturday I fully intended to go beyond the status of “trash gazing woman” to “trash pickin’ woman”. But unlike other Saturdays, nothing caught my eye. Oh well. There’s always next Saturday. After the dump we went to a local greenhouse. (We got a tray of marigolds.) Barb suggested going there just before we left for the dump, so she came along too. Following that we went over to visit Patty and Zach collected oak leaves there for his collection. The grand finale of the outing was a stop at the Odena, the local grocery store. I’m trying to track down a warehouse they can get goat milk from so that I can do most of my shopping there instead of in the city. If I have to stop for goat milk in the city I get all my other groceries then as well. Limiting the number of times to unbuckle and buckle kids is, of course, high priority. The other option is to get a goat, which I’ve been considering for a long time. Graeme has even warmed up to my chicken/goat plan, but now I’m second guessing it. Animals tie you down. That’s all there is to it. And I want to hop in a canoe and paddle a river with my hubby or camp with my boys whenever the opportunity presents itself, without having to figure out who will milk my goat. Best solution: find a local farmer who will sell me some goat milk. I can still make yogurt and cheese and other goat milk inventions without being fettered to a goat. Or…. find a few families to form some sort of farming co-op where we can share the fruit of our labour and assist each other in getting away once in a while. I’m rambling. Time to move on to the next topic.
Sunday was an even fuller day. I packed a picnic lunch and we went to church. (We planned to eat afterward and pick up some library books before returning home.) The service turned out to be a surprise celebration for the pastor being there for twenty-five years. There was no Sunday School or Junior Church for the kids so they sat and sat and sat. Afterward there was a big potluck lunch so we abandoned our picnic! We enjoyed visiting with friends from Hometown and Pickle, although I don’t really feel like I visited much. Being at a potluck lunch with four little boys, by myself, isn’t really conducive to visiting! (There were many offers of help which I am thankful for!) By the time we got home (we skipped the library) it was much later than planned, and that wouldn’t matter all that much except that I had a ticket for the Canadian Celtic Celebration (Pierre Schryer Band, The McDades, and Tiffany Fewster – step dancer) that evening! It seemed like I just got Ben down for a nap, Noah nursed, and it was time to head back to the city. Off we went. We found some front row seats off to one side. You might be able to imagine how many stares I got being at the concert with four little boys – by myself! The concert was fantastic. The boys danced to Irish jigs with some little girls sitting next to us, and tried their best to emulate the tap dancer. I exchanged phone numbers with their mom, and with an eighty year old lady on the other side of me. Noah was fabulous. He stared at the stage and the lights for the longest time, then he nursed and fell asleep. Zachary gave me a run for my money. Partly, I think they had all sat too long already at church, but I think he also knew that with a sleeping baby on my lap and a performance going on I was slightly incapacitated. I will spare you the details, but by the time we left I felt rage. The family I mentioned (that we exchanged numbers with) walked us out to our van. Their six year old daughter led Ben by the hand. We all said our goodbyes, I nursed Noah, and headed home at 10:30 at night. The only thing I said to Zach was that I was too angry to talk to him then about the evening, but I would read him one verse to think about and to later tell me what it means. “The proverbs of Solomon. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.” Proverbs 10:1
I’m glad that I waited until this morning to talk to Zach. It was much better than what would have happened if I tried last night. I’m sure that in the heat of my anger topped with physical exhaustion, I would have regretted how I handled it. After that business was out of the way, Barb came over and helped the boys plant the marigolds we picked up on Saturday. We had a visit from Uncle Fred and Auntie Robin on their way back up to Pickle. It is always a blessing and encouragement for me to spend some time with them and I’m so happy I live somewhere now that they pass through! Later Barb brought Zach a tray of impatients to plant under the Mountain Ash tree. I helped him with it and he did a big part of the job on his own while I hung laundry and tended to little brothers.
There you have it……. an update of the last few days. The only other news to report is that Jaska has dug up the planter – with plants planted in it – twice now. I think I’m going to give up on the planters until next spring. Oh…. and I still haven’t signed up for Facebook.