I’ve been in and out of the house a lot today. I’m still recovering from yet another respiratory infection but I could get outdoors and do a tiny bit of yard work for ten minutes or so. On my last time outside, two young girls were walking their Sheltie past my house, and Koco was barking at them from the living room. I commented to them that Koco just had to bark at their dog, and they responded pleasantly and we talked for a few minutes. The dog’s name is Chevon, and is named for the best friend of one of the girls. I said I hoped that was a compliment, because when our family had lived in farm country, one family named their newborn calf Nancy, for me.
The girls said that they live in the country and bring the dog into town for walks because it’s easier for her. She’s nine years old now. When they described the farm where they live, I realized it’s the Curtis Farm. I know the family. I used to buy milk there until they stopped selling milk. I didn’t think to tell them that my husband officiated at their great grandfather’s funeral service. The girls and I had not met before, and my last name is unfamiliar to them but when they tell their grandmother about meeting me, she will know who I am.
That’s a benefit from me being outside when they walked past. It was a very pleasant interlude for me.
And now it’s an hour past lunch time, —but that’s my fault. I wasn’t outside that long.