This morning she went on a goat walk with me as we scouted a new pasture for them. While Nick cooked us breakfast she played a guitar on the front porch. After breakfast Nick and I lay down with the four farm dogs underneath the apple tree while she cleared the picnic table and washed up. As I write she is banging in the nails to the deck of the yurt we hope to erect by the end of the week.
She could honestly just sit here like a lump on the log that is our couch and I would be overthemoon happy to have her here. She is the other half of my soul in a way that only a sister could be. But she's also kicking ass and giving me a much needed opportunity to slow down, to stop carrying heavy things, to stop chasing four legged creatures. She is giving me the chance I wrote of last week to move inward. And for this I will forever be in her loving debt.
What would we do without our sisters?
photos: 1. Fiona and one of the still nameless doelings. 2. Hawkeye and me, at 36 weeks.