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Today is my birthday. I tried to think of all the birthdays I remembered and I could come up with only a handful, most of which involved parties when I was little. Which led me to thinking about the ordinary days of life and how many of those I remember. You know, now that I am so old. Out of 365 days a year for oh so many years, there really are only those few that stick out each year over time, and maybe that’s sad or maybe that’s the way life is meant to be because we move on. But there are days that are worth remembering, even if they are ordinary. Maybe especially if they are ordinary.
I want to remember yesterday, the first really lovely spring day, and how Princess came home and said, “I’m going to walk down to the river and swim.” And how she could, because we live on a farm by the river.
She jumped right in, clothes and all, to that old swimming hole that her grandfather jumped in when he was a boy.
It’s deep, and for a hundred years and probably more there has always been a rope hanging from a tree over that swimming hole.
She took our big overgrown puppy, Bluebell, with her. Bluebell’s scared of the water so she barked at it.
Across the river is my great-grandfather’s new house. Okay, so it’s the house that was built on the spot that was my great-grandfather’s house, but I like to call it my great-grandfather’s new house. Cuz, you know, it’s still his farm, even if somebody else owns it now and built him a new house there.
See how the river turns shallow really quick when you come out of the swimming hole? Princess is walking the river.
And there’s the river ford where I drowned my car a few months ago. Looks benign now, doesn’t it?
And what is that?
Well. It looks like my car. Okay, so I drove down the driveway instead of walking down. Maybe it was the walking back up part that put me off. Or maybe, just maybe, there is a cosmic reason, understood by the Universe alone, that I drove my car down the driveway……
Oh, look! (Distraction tactic.) There is the old one-room schoolhouse where my grandmother taught. My father went to school there to eighth grade.
Wait, forget that! Princess has dragged the dog-who-is-scared-of-water into the river. This can’t be good.
Bluebell manages to escape–to the wrong side of the river.
And the chase is on.
Up and down the road and around my great-grandfather’s new house.
Until I realize why I drove my car down the driveway and I go back to it and drive it across the river ford to bring home my bedraggled overgrown puppy.
Those ears aren’t so perky now, are they, missy?
It’s going to be a long first spring and summer on the farm.
Thank goodness.
