Forgoing all electronics (sorry for the spout-off yesterday), I spent the afternoon in the company of good friends in Fiddletown, talking, talking, talking. Kit was up from southern California to visit her aunt and uncle, Tinka and Bill. Tinka is an avid gardener; I've extolled her virtues before. We agreed it is way too early for many of the flowers to be blooming. This has been a very strange winter. Lunch was served al fresco and included a lemon meringue pie (my favorite) for dessert. It's been a year since Kit has been north. Even though we're always in contact, face-to-face dialogue is the best. It was fun to hear about Doris Day's 90th birthday party, which Kit had attended. Just as I'm adjusting to the cats (Ralph is lying across my arm right now, making typing difficult), Tinka and Bill have a new rescue dog, Rosie. Sitting on the patio in dappled sunlight, we watched Rosie explore the yard and bounce after butterflies. Hummers buzzed through the air to many feeders as we chatted. I did check one text message from a relative on the east coast telling that after months, snow had melted off their patio, but was still deep in the front yard. I didn't have the heart to describe what a gorgeous day I was sharing.
The road over the hills to Fiddletown is an experience. Flatlanders would consider it a one-lane road, not wide enough in places for two cars to pass, so it's a bit alarming to see a sign that says, "Road narrows, visibility limited." It is a beautiful drive through woods and past green pastures with llamas, cattle, horses, deer, and wild geese grazing. Many potholes in the road demand a slow speed if one values the suspension of the vehicle so there is ample opportunity to enjoy the view. For the reckless souls, small pockets of homes along the way have posted 15 mph signs.
Back home again, Bessie Anne thoroughly investigated the smells of a new dog, but her jealousy was set aside with a small treat. She forgives easily and well. We talked about this, face to face.