Robin opened up to Maria and the farm on her second day here.

She and I are working on getting to know one another, I blew straw paper at her, and she retaliated to the discomfort of both Maria and Emma. I often look up to see her watching me closely, trying to figure me out.

The straw paper fight is one of the few enduring family traditions I passed on to Emma, and has survived.

I blew straw paper at her when we went out to eat when she was 6, Robin’s age now, and she responded in kine. We did this until she went to college (and beyond). She has passed it on to Robin (I’m so proud), and Robin and I went at it this morning. After breakfast – we battled to a draw and then engaged in a serious round of 20 questions.

(Robin waded right into apple picking with her net/pole, we got two big bags of apples. One is going to New York City; the other stays here.)

Emma was clucking and shaking her head over our paper wars as a mom, so I shot one at her too.

Then we went apple picking (we filled two big paper bags), to a book store, and then to the farm to feed the chickens, meet the sheep, give apples to the donkeys, explore the bond, hang for abandoned birds’ nests and walk in the woods with Maria.

I haven’t spent much time with Emma or Robin for several years, and it showed. We really don’t know each other, even if we connect. I’m still not certain anything can be done about that, but for now, all is good. I am living in the now these days.

Today was special.

 

(Emma and I picked out some books for Robin, and the two of them went over them to choose which ones to buy. We bought four books and a fuzzy stuffed cat.)

Maria loves to say she is just not good around children; Robin blew that myth right out of the woods. They fed the chickens together, mingled with the sheep, built a fire,  and explored every inch of the farm.

 

(Maria showed Robin how to build and start a wood stove fire. She did very well)

The weekend was really about small things and first things.

The first time Robin made a fire, the first time she explored a country pond, the first time she hand-fed hens, the first time she gave apples to donkeys, the first time she walked in the woods, the first time she talked and sang to sheep.

Robin was fascinated by my marital history (she is very close to her birth grandmother,  my first wife Paula Span) and is still trying to figure out where Maria fits in. She is also intrigued by how old I am and how different I am from other people in the family. I told her she hadn’t seen anything yet.

 

(She was afraid of the chickens when she first showed up, but not today. To their delight, she fed them three different times and literally had them eating out of her hand and looked like a natural farm kid. They were, next to dogs, she said, her favorite animals here)

Robin and I are still circling each other but getting closer by the day. We have a lot in common.

But by tomorrow, she’ll be gone, and it will probably be a long time before we meet again.

We had a blast today; I’m worn to the bone, and so is everybody else. Maria and I live quiet lives, and the inexhaustible energy of this six-year-old is something we have never really experienced before, not in our tiny old farmhouse and not on our peaceful farm.

She just never tires.

(Emma went around our trees and bushes with Robin to show her all the abandoned bird nests from the Spring.)

Robin insisted on serenading the sheep, but they fled in terror and ran to the farthest corners of the pasture. She never tires or stops asking questions.

 

I have not begun to digest this weekend yet; that will take some time. It had a warm, sound, and chaotic feeling; honestly, I am too tired to make much sense of it. I need some time and space to think.

 

 

We weren’t sure how Robin would take to the country’s feelings, smells, and creatures. We need not have worried. We took her down to the pond, and she spotted and counted scores of newts in the water. She had never seen a newt before; she was terrific at spotting them. She has a scientists curiosity, Emma says she talks about being a scientist and loves to build robots.

 

 

Emma has a demanding and busy high-pressure job and life, and I hoped she would take some time to rest while she was here. She didn’t sleep much, but she spent a lot of time holding and stroking Flo, aging rapidly, getting thinner and thinner, and no longer hunts.

She was a proud and independent barn cat; she rarely leaves the back porch now, and soon she’ll go downstairs and winter in her heated cat house.

Emma even drew out Minnie, our timid former feral cat. Minnie always disappears when outsiders show up, but she crept up quietly on Emma, who managed to scratch the heads of both of them simultaneously, with her hand behind her back.

Flo was in cat heaven.

It was calming for Emma, also. She said she wanted to spend some time with Flo; she sensed Flo might not be around for too long. We both sent a stream of photos to Emma’s husband Jay, who is writing about the baseball playoffs.

Emma asked if I would also take her out to hold and touch Flo, and we went together. Flo is the first cat ever to seduce me, a dog person. I spend some time with her daily; she loves attention these days.

Yesterday, I tried to read Robin books that are two or three years too young for her reading level. I decided to remedy that today; she and I and Emma went to Battenkill books and chose four or five books that were more challenging and interesting. I read to her for an hour, the most extended reading I have done with her in her life.

She loved the book about flies being pursued by a hungry frog.