Friday was NOT a quiet day, after all. It turned out to be a constant-fun type of day. I’m not even sure what I was thinking writing that. I hardly got to knit very much, and it stopped raining. We had friends we hadn’t seen for awhile come over in the morning, and overlap with a visit from some out-of-town friends who used to be homeschooling neighbors. We haven’t seen them in months. Their mom hadn’t even parked the car when they exploded out, and every one was yelping with glee. There were violent sword fights, and the front porch became an armory. I had to get out scrubby sponges and vinegar so they could shine the metal helmet up – it’s been rusting on the porch for ages now.
And I had a long day of wonderful visits with two dear friends I hadn’t seen for a long time. It was very grounding and refreshing to see them both again after having such negative experiences with the one friend who was doing fiddle with us.
We got out to the farm very late – just in time to see the sunset light the western clouds up with beautiful rose-pink light. Matilda’s calf was born. It’s a boy. It was still damp when we got out there, and her afterbirth was hanging out. We haven’t thought of a name yet – if it was a girl, it was going to be called Ivy. Back to the drawing board. If you pick out a name ahead of time, it’s always the wrong gender. I don’t know exactly why it always happens that way, but I’ve seen it happen again and again. I got to name Rose because Ethan hadn’t thought of anything except boy names. He was completely surprised to have a little girl, and I got to pick out a name before he recovered enough.