All Things Come

Sister de Chantal, a dear little old nun at my high school, used to say in a quavering voice, "Patience is a virtue.  Virtue is a grace.  Grace is a little girl who didn't wash her face."  To this day, I think of her whenever the word 'patience' comes to mind.  I recited that bit of doggerel to the ground squirrel who had made himself comfortable on the stall divider while waiting for me to finish up in the barn and put his breakfast down.  Others of his companions lay on the ground, stretching and yawning, sometimes with eyes half closed or nibbling on a stray bit of grain.  Unlike the scrub jay who helps himself from the feed bucket, these guys seem to know that all things come to he who waits.

It's enough that I keep track of the days of the week:  trash day, who's coming for milk when and how much, race day, etc.  Dates are beyond me.  It's a very good thing I just happened to glance at the calendar yesterday morning because I had made arrangements to meet a friend for lunch, and that had completely slipped my mind.  It also made me realize that Pete and Jake are not coming in a week, they will arrive in four days!  Good grief, I've much to do before they get here.

The heat was oppressive in the afternoon (after a fun lunch with my friend in an air-conditioned restaurant), and Bessie didn't need to be asked twice when I suggested she might want to go in the pool.  Usually I have to lift her front feet over the edge, but this time she stepped in on her own and waited for me to pour the bath-warm water over her back.  That's my excuse to go wading with her.  As I've said before, it's a good thing we're out of the public view.