Mellow Yello

The forsythia bloomed this week, along with masses of daffodils with accents of dark purple hyacinths. . This morning the sun rose over the lake in a big red ball. It relaxes one's soul to see such beauty.

On my drive to work I traverse many different neighborhoods and travel for a short distance through a kind of ex-urban rural area of houses, a few estates and one farm. Sometimes on the farmhouse porch there is a hand-lettered sign that announces "fresh eggs for sale." Either I am in a hurry or we have sufficient eggs in the refrigertor, so I have never stopped.

This week, on a lovely late afternoon, I see the sign and remember we have 2 eggs left. U-turn and back to the farm. Because I am a nosy writer, I am hoping to see the inside of the house, which is old and looks to have an excess of charm. I ring the bell and a middle-aged man comes to the door. He explains that the eggs are in the metal box where in days of yore the milkman left the milk. Another box has change. You pays your money, you takes your eggs and gets your change. It's the honor system! I don't have any change, and so I stop by the house the next morning and put the money in the milk box. Just like back in the days of my grandmother. I only see a center hall (rather dark) but I am charmed by the whole idea. I forget to ask where the cows are. Last year they had a cow and a calf, but I didn't see them all winter and think they are gone. Sigh!

I fed "my" cows last weekend. All I have to do is get out of the car and they come running toward me in a big cow stampede. This week they took turns nicely. The babies horns are growing. Youngest baby still a little skittish about being petted, but Jewel likes it. She offers a loud bleat before she stampedes.

Nature is nice this time of year. The birds sing in the morning and the frogs at night. Life is good.