Daddy came home last night with Daffodils and Tulips (Lainy would say, “Two? Lips?”). The daffodils are for me and the tulips are for his little girl. So stinkin’ sweet I just wanna die. And seriously, God… daffodils? Bright yellow and orange flowers that appear out of the snow? Brilliant.
I have written a poem for all of you.
Tulips can be red.
The sky is often blue.
I like you.
Try to hold back the tears.
Perhaps I have missed my calling as a freestyle poet.
Some answers for you to some frequently asked questions:
1. George (Washington) the cat
Georgie, sadly, is not around anymore. When we moved out to TexasNorth, he happily became a barn cat and mouse-killer, despite his lack of claws. I fear he was a bit too bold for his own good one night, though, and stayed out a bit late. About a year ago, on an especially warm winter night, I said goodnight to him on the front porch. In the morning he was- not unusually- gone. After a few days, I figured he had moved in with Dan’s barn cats down the road. For two weeks I’d wave and yell to him lounging on their communal hay. One Sunday morning, on our way to church, I gave my usually exhuberant greeting to the felines and The Boy said, “Kate. I don’t think that’s George. I think he’s gone. Let him go. Stop making a fool of yourself. The neighbors want to commit you.” He was right. I really liked that cat. This Spring we’ll add a few new presidentially-named kittens to our barn in memory of my George and put them to work protecting the chicken feed from mice.
2. J-Bird the goose
J-bird was given to us by a classroom that had rescued his cracked egg from a local campground. Surprisingly, he hatched… and grew… and came to live with us once school let out for Summer. He whirrled all day and then walked himself over to the chicken coop at night where I would put him in for safe-keeping. One day in July, we Mulders packed up for our camping trip out West. We hitched the trailer up to the 4-Runner and hit the road at 6pm. Renae showed up at 6:30pm to farm-sit. She never saw the goose. He never showed up to be tucked in that night. As it was easily daylight until 10pm that night (loooove Michigan summers), I am almost certain J-Bird did not meet an untimely end a-la George. Rather, it’s more likely he joined a flock and headed over to the next pond. I was told this would likely happen, I just wasn’t prepared for the sudden-ness of it all. I didn’t get to say goodbye! *weep* Fly high, J-Bird. Fly strong. Mamma loves you.
3. Drumming and singing
I do not play the drums. Once a month I sing at church with two other folks. Every once in awhile, we bust out some ‘gang vocals’ where all the vocal teams get to sing together. It’s a par-tay. Imagine singing with your buddies at the top of your lungs into a fancy schmancy microphone in front of 8,000 people- it’s a good time, and the closest I’ll ever get to being backup for John Legend. We had a guest speaker a couple weeks ago and were explaining to her that we hardly ever get to sing all together and that today was super special. There was a pause… and I said something to the effect of, “Yeah, and I usually play the drums, so this is really something new for me.” See? It’s not that funny. It wasn’t really funny at all, but everyone laughed. Now that I think about it, I think they were laughing AT me. In fact [stepping up on my chair and pointing my arm to the sky], I think they all knew my shirt was tucked into my undies right then and there and just didn’t tell me. I shall be looking at all of you a bit differently from now on…
It’s my turn to sing again this weekend. If you see me with my shirt tucked into my undies, don’t tell me. It’s kinda my thing now, if you know what I mean.