In many ways, this July 4 was a homecoming--for my Aunt Dolly and Uncle Bill who returned to Bethlehem from Venice, FL for the season, making their maiden voyage to The Farm. My Mother had not been to The Farm for too long a hiatus, so it was a homecoming for her as well--so many changes for her to see. Finally, it was a homecoming for the girls. Still with their girlhood, not yet bred, not yet mothers to be (and that's fine with me), they came home. It was the best day, and proof positive that things happen for a reason. Had they been bred, I would have missed my first summer with them.
I think it safe to say that we all had such a fine time. Each picnic seems the best, the most memorable, the most perfect, but for me, with Doug finally making it to the farm with Carol, and with the girls coming home, it was, at least for me, the perfect picnic.
Tne next day, however, began with a fever that escalated into an emergency room visit. Two days later, I was admitted to the hospital, and two days later, had surgery. I am home again, and happy to be here. In my new tradition of "in everything celebrate goodness," I was quick to find the good. Had I not done the picnic, I would have continued for who knows how long with walking pneumonia. Now I am resting more, working on recovery. The mantra works.