Wednesday, December 5, 2012
this time. x
This morning she got a letter from her school telling her who her teacher will be next year. She was thrilled with the choice because she said she 'got the teacher with the best shoes in the school'. She is super excited about school and wants to start now. 'After Christmas and a bit feels like forever' she told me.
You already know how I feel. I am dreading it. I feel sick at the thought of her in that blue checkered dress, sitting inside a classroom every. single. day. A tiny, selfish part of me thinks about what it might be like if school doesn't work out for her and she has to stay home with me on the farm. But the biggest part of me just hopes she doesn't lose her love of her farmer girl life. That she still has the time and the curiosity and the hunger for knowledge and experience in our world too.
This morning before lunch she sorted out the brooder and then welcomed 500 - one day old - chicks to our farm. She cuddled the Maremmas and helped us collect the eggs. She helped farmer Bren with the irrigation lines in the market gardens. She picked and gobbled strawberries and currants and gooseberries. And mostly she walked everywhere with me, singing as we went, but sometimes she sat on the back of the ute too.
It's no wonder I had to wake her when we drove up to her ballet class this afternoon.
I really am trying my hardest to live in the moment and enjoy this time we have together. But sometimes it's hard. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with a sad sort of feeling that times are a changing and I miss this time already.
This time is windy but terribly beautiful.