Guest House

They came bearing gifts.  My friend Kit from Southern California arrived yesterday morning.  A hug from Kit and you know you've been hugged.  (I hate those fakey-phony "Hollywood" hugs.)  She opened her goody bag and pulled out an assortment of cookies and, my favorite, bags of licorice.  I'm a sucker for licorice.  In the kitchen, chattering away together like magpies, I put together a Banoffee pie--a decadent concoction of gingersnap crust, a soft homemade toffee, and a layer of bananas smothered in a mountain of fresh whipped cream--while we waited for Tinka, Kit's aunt, who lives in Fiddletown.  Tinka has the most beautiful garden ever, and she unloaded a variety of starter plants and seeds.  My garden will never look like hers, but it's certainly a goal to shoot for.  I'm infamous for leaving my guests to fend for themselves for lunch, that not being a meal I eat, but I tried to make amends by serving the pie.  Anything with that many calories has to be good, and I could tell from the blissful expressions that my apology was accepted.

Another gorgeous fall day drew us outside and we visited the chicken pens.  The little kids had been getting along so well, it was distressing to find that the Silkie roosters had been fighting and inflicting real damage--white feathers streaked with blood.  I've got to find homes for all of those boys but Musashi, and soon.  Wandering over to the goat yard, the girls came to the fence to have their heads rubbed and make new friends.  When Tinka had to leave, back in the house Bessie Anne coaxed Kit into playing her favorite game of Scare Me in which a grown adult is to stamp feet and growl while Bessie runs around corners, in circles, and in general acts the fool.  Kit learned quickly.

Kit accompanied me later when I put the kids to bed, and we were treated to a stunning sundown sky that, like a masterpiece in a museum, demanded a moment of silence and appreciation.  After a dinner of beer-braised country-style pork ribs and creamy polenta, we were joined by the cats for our nightly stroll.  The full moon played hide-and-seek behind wispy clouds so we ladies were glad of our lighted hats to guide our steps.

It was a good day.