Another weekend gone

Well today is Father's Day and we came back early from the cabin to spend it with my family, my father. We went to the cabin Friday evening and had a nice visit with the neighbors and shared a beer and glass of wine. There were not a lot of people there so it was fairly quiet. We had planned on coming back last night but The Hubby had spent all day long putting in the lights on the neighbors new deck and he was just exhausted so YIPEE we stayed. It was one of the most perfect evenings. The temperature was just perfect and we enjoyed most of the evening outdoors on the new deck (not quite finished). Harri fixed roast, corn on the cob, mixed veggies and french bread and I washed it down with a few Bud Light Lime beers...very yum. Then Harri decided she wanted to go on a golf cart ride before the sun set so off we went, her with her glass of wine and me with a glass of Pama (pomegranete liquor-more very yum.) We drove every road, gravel and paved looking for where there might be a party but it was pretty quiet. We watched the firefly's buzzing around in the meadow, watched some people playing a little golf on our 4 holes and hoped to see a deer or two. As the darkness crept up and we were driving on a road by Mud Flats a little creature ran in front of us. At first I thought it was a tiny deer but my mind immediately knew what it was. It was a tiny fox, very young. It was just darling as it stopped by some steps of a cabin and just sat and watched us watch it. Very sweet.

This weekend I really got into my book "The Book Thief" and yesterday as I sat on the porch and read it I was taken with warm thoughts of my Momma. Momma was an avid reader. She loved and I mean LOVED books and she instilled in my brother, sister and I the love of reading. We all three can not get enough reading done. She used to go to the library and check out 5 or 6 books every two weeks and would inhale them. Well, this book I'm reading is about a little girl in Nazi Germany and one of the parts of the book is her love of books and reading and as I was reading yesterday I thought, "I will never read the words that my mother has run her eyes over again." I know it is a weird thought but we shared books and would discuss them over and over again and I just had that strange thought that my eyes and hers would never touch that kind of sight again. I know weird but I miss her and our talks and closeness and sharing of life.