Kindness...

 I received a package in the mail today. The kind of package that rattles enticingly. It arrived in Maine by way of Missouri and was sweetly sent to me from a pet groomer there. She had this to say about the delightful contents of the box, "When my grandma was cleaning out a barn on her property, she found an old grooming tool and gave it to me. I have no room for it, but when I thought of grooming and antiques, your name immediately popped into my mind." I am tickled to have this vintage grooming tool and will display it proudly in the studio. Thanks so much, Kate and family! 

I encountered another kindness recently. I wanted to gift my husband a bottle of upscale liquor for his bar. Something he would not be likely to purchase for himself and would enjoy sharing with guests. I asked my son-in-love for recommendations because he is a very knowledgeable connoisseur. He messaged me a list of 4 or 5 suggestions, and I took myself off to the grocery store in Camden. In Maine, liquor stores sell a wide variety of bottles, but you can also buy wine, beer, and some liquor in the grocery store. The selection is not as large as a package store, and I didn't see any of the brands that Evans suggested on the shelf.  In fact, there was a lot of empty shelf space. I stood there reading labels, trying to decide what my next move would be. Just then, a jaunty man came up and began perusing the same shelves I was. I said, "Don't mind me, I'm going to be here for a while." He gave me a smile, "Are you looking for bourbon?" He asked. "I am, in fact," I replied, then explained I wanted something special for my husband. I told him I had a list.  "Read me your list," he said, "I'm a bourbon guy!" and I did. "They are short on a lot of things because of the supply chain," he said, waving his hand at the empty shelves. We then had a lively discussion about the merits of the available bottles. Of some of the more expensive ones, he said, "Oh, those are new, only 3 or 4 years old, they are too thin for my taste." More conversation ensued. He was clearly enjoying the challenge of helping me choose. "Honestly," he said, "The closest store that is going to have one of these is Four Corners Market in Union. My eyes widened. The store he talked about is less than two miles from where I live. A small place that sells gasoline, potato chips... and apparently, high-end bourbon.  "Are you sure?" I asked. "Oh yes. They have one bottle. I've been watching it for months." I thanked him and headed out, feeling so grateful for this fun, accidental meeting. In the parking lot, the man drove past and stopped, "Please tell your son-in-law he has excellent taste in bourbon!" I smiled all the way to the store, where I bought the one fancy bottle there. 

With the cold and icy weather, poor Bravo has not been getting as much exercise as he should. A neighbor mentioned her dogs were feeling stir crazy. I asked if Bravo could come to play. This afternoon, she invited us, and Bravo and her three Aussies spent a happy time racing through the snow. I enjoyed having a few moments to chat with my neighbor and caught this pretty view, too. Bravo is much happier tonight after a good romp. 

As I was doing afternoon chores today, I heard a chicken muttering to herself from the direction of the goat cozy. The sun was already slipping behind the ridge, and that hen should have been safe in her coop. It took a little effort, but I caught her and lugged her across the pasture. I was stopped by a nosy goat, wondering what we were up to. 

Kindness. That's what. 

Ice season...

 It's been icy for the last week or so. Every day we fight it, sprinkling ice melt on the walkways, sand or ashes on the driveway, spent shavings from the coops around the pasture to help me stay upright when I do chores. Chris tried to help me do chores Friday evening but couldn't manage because he does not have ice grips on his boots. I describe trying to walk out there like trying to navigate glass coated in cooking oil. Then we had a few warmer days. The ice on the deck all vanished, and it was warm enough yesterday to make cleaning the chicken coops pleasant. 

The ducks were pleased with the warmer weather. Thin puddles floated on top of the ice, and water dripped from the eves of the house. They found a few spots where the ground was bare, joyfully drilled their beaks into the softening soil, and stood under the drippy spots, letting the water run over their feathers. 

I assume the chickens are bored this time of year. They don't like to leave the coop much in bad weather. We bought them a Flock Block. A big, heavy, compressed block made up of seeds and grains. The birds seemed pleased. I hope it will keep them entertained for a while. 

The area around the woodpile is treacherous walking. I dragged a heavy sled around to it and filled it with logs, then slid it over the ice to the house. Chris handed them to me on the deck, where I filled the wood crib. The temperature is dropping again. 

There will likely be more snow and ice in the coming weeks. That is ok with me. I enjoy cozy times at home by the fire. Spring will come soon enough. 

What love looks like...

 When Bravo was new here, I took him to puppy classes. I met a woman there with a miniature Australian Shepherd. Bravo and her pup became friends. I went to her house a time or two for the dogs to romp together.  At her wonderful home, I saw her art studio and realized I was in the presence of an Artist with a capital "A." She began bringing her dog to us for grooming, and Rachel and I went to an art show she had. I wanted to buy one of her paintings but sadly could not afford one.

Every time we see her, she shows us pictures of her latest work. We are always in awe. 

She came in this afternoon and visited while we gave her dog a bath and trimmed him up. We chatted about her grandson, and as we were checking her out, one of us asked if she was working on anything fun just now.  "I just finished something. I'll show it to you," she said. Then she handed me a package wrapped in sturdy brown paper, taped well at the corners. 

It felt like a canvas. Dare I hope?  "For ME?" I asked, incredulous. "For both of you," she shrugged and smiled shyly. Hands trembling, I peeled the tape back. And then I cried. 

I am thrilled that she captured the look of adoration on my face as I cradled my then 5-week old granddaughter.  I'm dressed in my grooming uniform, black shirt and smock, and pearls, of course. The chair I am sitting in is in my grooming studio, a favorite spot to take a break as the sun streams in. The plant in the bucket over my shoulder? It's rosemary, and 4 years ago was a tiny plant at Rachel and Evans's wedding.  This portrait captures a little slice of my daily routine with a newly added armful. A gift like this? It's what love looks like.