This is Olive Oil, one of Rosie's triplets. She is small, expected from triplets, but I admit to a strong favoritism to her. She is a calm lamb and I do hold her more than the others.She has this odd little impish expression hard to resist. I called her Olive Oil because when she was born she was the thinnest little thing, she was like a board. I have too much on my mind to name lambs right now, so will start thinking. The 4 rams this year are exceptional. Hard choices to come in the months ahead.
The juxtaposition of the spring lambs running around, while we say good bye to my father, is appropriate to relish. One can feel and learn from the cycle of life anywhere, but nowhere have I grasped it more than on the farm living with
more land, and a river ebb and flowing, changing the river banks and uprooting trees.
"She whom we love and lose is no longer where she was before. She is now everywhere." St. John Chrysostom. This is what I am feeling. The things I learned, experienced, valued, received and felt from my father are all here, around me. They don't go away. If one stops at the moment they are thinking of that person, and notices - that bird that just landed, oh there he is. Or the sound of a branch on the roof - there he is again. The language is just different now.
