I've been at my daughter's home for a couple of days now, making supper, doing laundry, and minding the new granddaughter when Jessica needs to nap. I don't know how I managed to grow three daughters to adulthood. The energy it takes is something I'd forgotten. She feels so isolated and it's true that mothering now, I think, can be a lonely endeavor. I have thoughts of how it must have been for women centuries past when humans lived more communally - there always would have been some willing human around to jostle the baby, something cooking in the pots, older children hoisting that baby hither and yon. Moms now are lucky to find a play group for an hour or so in the afternoon. Strange society that we would abandon our young mothers so. Jessica has something called a "moby wrap" which is essentially a yards long piece of fabric tied so that the baby rests in a pocket close to mom's breast. Very primitive and Delilah seems to love the coziness. I'm enjoying being a part of my daughter's life for a while.
I'm sort of missing my own home, however. I miss looking out of my kitchen window to see if the sheep wandered into the neighbor's pasture again or at the chickens scratching, scratching. And I wonder how my seedlings are doing? I'll come home this weekend for sure and hope I miss the spring snow storm that is due Friday night.
A very nice thing about being in the city is it's proximity to textile shops. Denver Fabrics is quite nearby and I will have to visit their bargain bins before going south(!)