Saturday, May 2, 2009
I was still smarting from the neighbors' attack by rocks, and feeling like an idiot for not knowing what if anything to say to them or do about it, when I got a surprise visit from Nancy, the mom.
I felt that unpleasant adrenalin burst and braced myself for the unpleasant encounter that was only seconds away. I wanted to avoid a confrontation at all costs as always. I didn't want to find myself telling her in angry-frustrated-tearfilled fashion just what I thought of a man who would drive his children into a neighbor's yard and have them attack the neighbor's garden with rocks.
I probably was still holding my breath when she walked up to me - I was on our porch - and said,
we need to be gone for a few days, can you take care of the goats?
After we talked about the details, I said yes.
In the back of my mind I wondered if she even knew about the rock attack. And whether I should tell her in case she didn't.
We went over to her barn so I could see her set-up and learn what needed to be done: feeding both goats and chickens, milking goats, clean-up, bottling milk...
I agreed to do it, and said not a word about the incident.