Kisses...

 Last week we celebrated our daughter's birthday. I indulged in a little stroll down memory lane, thinking of the first time my lips brushed the downy fluff of her tiny head when she was placed in my arms the day she was born. I had no way of knowing she would grow to be my best buddy, that we would work side by side, or that I would be able to be a big part of her daughter's life. We celebrated the event as she asked, my sister Deb and her daughter Aimee came, and we worked together to create a toddler bedroom for the Owlette. Furniture was moved, clothes sorted and stored, a rug installed, and toys arranged. The next day there was antique store strolling, lunch out, and general sweetness. A pleasant celebration of a momentous day. 

A few days later, Chris and I celebrated our 39th wedding anniversary. We both took the day off work, enjoyed a pretty drive, had a little lunch out, a few kisses, and later had a nice supper at a new local restaurant with Rachel and her family. 

At some point, I popped into my friend's barn and chatted with a Jersey calf. I was delighted when she reached up and gave me a cow kiss. 

Then today, we returned Wyatt, the borrowed buck, to his home farm. I have to admit I was a little sad to see him go. He's been a pleasant guest. While we were there, the goat farmer said, "We have kids," and opened to door to the barn. Under a heat lamp, there was a pile of the tiniest goat kids I have ever seen. 

I think there are 7 here in an impossibly small space. The farmer picked one up, "This one was born last night," It pressed its wee face into mine. It smelled of hay and pine shavings and milk and sweetness. I was sunk and pressed my lips into its warm fur while I melted a little. 

I had to force myself to put that kid down and walk away, knowing I'd have some of my own to love in a few months. I got a chuckle when I turned to see the larger area with all the other goats. Fresh hay had just been delivered, and the goats were all vying for space at the rack. Two of the smaller ones solved the problem by just climbing up on the backs of the others and reaching the best stuff. See the dark spotted one second from the left? Her feet are NOT touching the ground. 

Back home, we took the winter greens off the arbor and out of the cast iron tub. We piled them in the barrow and stacked them next to the fire ring in the backyard. Our goats were delighted and pushed through the gate to nosh on pine, cedar, and other tasty tidbits. 

We thought we might light a fire in the ring and welcome an early spring evening. 

But the wind blew the fire out, and we thought better of letting flames dance in the wind-kissed dusk. Maybe tomorrow. We will have to see what kisses await.