But there she was, patiently waiting. Despite the delays, and the wounds from having her bathrooms ripped off, she still sat peaceful. "I've been here for 120 years, dear. I am in no hurry to change. I am just what I was when you left."
Soothing. Still. Beckoning.
The grass in the pasture was past my knee. It was thick and lush from the rains last week and the breeze swept across it in waves. The chickens squawked at me from the tree either because the feeder was empty or, perhaps, because they had been alone and didn't appreciate my intrusion. A new brood of chicks ran, peeping, after their mother.
The best moment was climbing the steps to the kitchen door, and unlatching the old television antenna I used as a "lock" in the rusted and misshaped hasp. Pushing open the weathered door with a bump from my hip. There.
She embraced me with the same silent affection that reinforced my needing her.
I opened the window and sat beside it. Just listened and felt the breeze.
After a while, I decided to use the last hours of the day to try to mow. I didn't get very far. Weeds around the house and under a tree. I charged into the grass, which was really hay, and worked for a while on a patch. It was slow going, thick. I didn't mind the pace, especially as I am still on the lookout for all sorts of things hiding in the grass. I did mow over the remains of the snake. Bits flew in all directions but the undulating rib bones held fast.
I mowed the north end which was more weedy but I took care to detour around the tender wildflowers. I trudged along determined to make it all the way around. I confess, the neighbor's garden was an enticement for it had gotten very lush. I felt like Rapunzel staring across at the old crone's garden and longing for radishes.
Once around, the old lawnmower bucked on a scrap of something and stopped. We took a break. I puttered while it cooled off. there is still a lot of grass to cut. I thought about gathering eggs before dusk came. I looked for my machete but it had "disappeared." Probably the most valuable thing in the house except for the old cd player - which was still there. Another walk through and I noticed that any drawer was slightly open as if someone was looking for something. Kids. I really do need a shed for locking up my tools...
I tried to mow again but didn't get very far. I suppose that was all I was meant to do. To the next task then, carrying pitchers of water from the rain barrel to the new roses, canna lillies and jasmine. They are doing amazingly well for not being watered more consistently.
I went to the barn to look for eggs where I had filled the old coops with new shavings. I found one hen sitting on her nest. She eyed me warily as I passed by but never stirred. In the corner though, in one of the old refridgerator drawers that are scattered about, I found a hay nest and ten fresh eggs then took eight. Back in the light they looked almost peach, pale and not anywhere near white.
Now there's a gift.