To paraphrase that old Scottish ditty, "You take the high road and I'll take the slow road...." I'd say I took back roads to get to my friends' home in Fiddletown, but there are no "front" roads at all. Starting out on what one could hardly call a two-lane road, a sign soon announced that "road narrows ahead." It wasn't kidding. The first bridge to cross was so narrow I worried about the side mirrors on the truck, and the road ahead wasn't much wider. Dips, ruts, curves and potholes keep the speed down, but still a couple of farms put up "Slow to 15" signs. Whizzing along at 25, I obligingly put on the brakes as I passed. Taking the slow road has its advantages. There is time to really look at the scenery of the forests and farms, the deer and the spring crop of calves. Knowing the drive would take awhile, I gave myself plenty of time to cross the hills; too much time, as it turned out.
Some time back when I was in that furious frenzy of housecleaning, my daughter called and asked, "Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?!" I had to ask myself a similar question yesterday when I found I was twenty minutes early at Tinka and Bill's. It was definitely not like me. It was one thing to claim the prize when I beat Arden by three minutes last week, but twenty minutes? I seriously considered pulling over by the side of the road to wait, and I would have if there had been space to do so. Anyone coming that early to my house would have found me frantic to finish getting ready and whirling like a dervish, but Tinka is totally more organized than I and greeted me with open arms as if nothing were amiss. She'd made a delicious Italian meatball soup and a fresh apple cake with lemon sauce. (I'm a sucker for lemon anything.) It's been awhile since I've seen Tinka and Bill and it was great to catch up on news and enjoy their company on a gorgeous spring day. We watched a coyote cross their pasture and a hawk circling above that had its eye on Tinka's hens. In both cases, getting the guns took too long. A neighbor's goat herd came ambling down the hill. Their cats, Smudge, Frank (they have a Frank too), and Mildred rubbed around our ankles and asked to be petted. Another feline was a scaredy cat and kept its distance so I wasn't introduced. Even though I'd arrived early, it was hard to tear myself away to come home to my own critters. It was a good day.
The photos of my anemones and almond tree are gratuitous, just because it was such a pretty day and because I could get them into the computer, and rain is due again tonight.