Head for the Hills!

I have just returned from several days at the Hills, and I feel somewhat akin to Hercules after he accomplished his nine great tasks. (Was that Hercules? Hmmm. Well, I’ll know after I brush up on my mythology in preparation for my Classical Lit class.) I went out to help Linda, and all that stuff they say about your spirits being lifted when you help other people is sure true. I feel totally refreshed, even though I haven’t worked so hard in quite awhile. And manual labor (if you can call dish washing manual labor) is exhilarating after four years of mental labors.

So guess who is now a fan of farm life? Actually, I’ve always kind of been attracted to the idea of living on a farm. (When Amy and I told Lindsay’s grandfather that we thought it would be cool to live on a farm he couldn’t repress laughter - he who knew what farm life was really like.) But after this week the attraction has stepped up a notch. It seems kind of idyllic in a way. There is serenity and stability and something that connects with so many past generations who have earned their livelihood with good, honest toil. Of course, it means a lot of flies. But one morning Caleb, Ruthie and I had a fly-killing party (not to be confused with the raspberry-picking party or the floor-washing party) and managed to fell nearly 20 of the foe. So even the flies have their charms.

I especially loved my job of being responsible for the younger kids. I could say so many wonderful things about the children in that family! But here are a few tid-bits of my experiences with the younger ones. Caleb does not appreciate being called such things as “matey, laddie, or lad.” “Sir” is acceptable, but “Caleb” is safest. He expresses affection by telling you what kinds of disasters he would be willing to save you from. Especially if he was Spiderman. Ruthie has an amazing sense of humor. She saw a picture of a baby that I drew, complete with the little hair squiggling up from the top of the head, and burst into sincere, uninhibited, from-the-heart laughter. I laughed till I cried more than once, thanks to her. She has a very happy worldview. Rebecca and I were together a lot. Our old bond from the days when I was last there as "mother's helper" (over 7 years ago) is still strong, even though her main memories of me included sitting outside of my room because I wouldn't let her in (I did relent, however, when I saw her adorable 3-year-old little fingers wiggling in under my door). And all of them are excellent companions for anything from cooking to Candyland. (Liane! Caleb’s Candyland game had the same recipe as Ethan’s! Fortunately, I was forwarned, and therefore forarmed.)

And of course, the beauty of the location was stunning. I drove there with Kimberly (the ideal traveling companion - we had such a great time! And she also saved me from heading off toward who-knows-where by shrieking “WEST!” at the opportune moment) and we couldn’t stop talking about how amazing it was.

So there you are, friends, another cast iron excuse for why I haven’t posted in so long!