We have taken the past few days after two busy haying times, tending to many baby cows and their mothers––and a voracious bout of needed house cleaning––to host and visit with two of our dear friends, Chris and Jo, from England. They visited us here four years ago when we had just moved and each time we see them, we just pick up all over again. Even though it seems that they haven't aged at all, or that no time has passed, you realize it has when you start talking about children (they left their teens at home for the first time), life events, and the odd insight. Chris and Temple worked on the same dairy farm in New Hampshire many years ago and we have visited back and forth ever since.
Our friends Melvin and Anna, asked us all over for a buggy ride on their spring wagon. We've hardly seen them in recent months because they have been traveling all over the country for weddings, funerals and ordinations (the Old Order Mennonites and Amish know how to turn it out for any thing and for their families, no matter how far the distance: it's amazing, really, considering that few orders allow car ownership and definitely not plane travel). So it's been great to reconnect with them, too, and, after four years of friendship, I'd never had a buggy ride with them, either.
The day was perfect: a huge high pressure system from the north brought in pleasant summer temperatures, intense blue skies, and cooling breezes, just for the day. It was a real fall-like treat before the hot blast that is supposed to hit us this weekend (104!). The best part was driving along at a much slower pace than a car, in the open air, talking along the way and where we could really watch the landscape. Everything just slowed right down. One of the books I've often revisited in recent years is In Praise of Slowness by Carl Honoré. This book encourages the same thing (and yes, I read it slowly and savor each word).
Slow read. Slow food. Slow pace. Slow lane. You have to slow it down once in a while. Otherwise, life just passes us by and we get swept up by too much detail and minutiae. So try to take it slow: just for one day, one hour, one moment.
You come back when you're ready!