This and That

Neighborly

Cows are friendly and curious creatures. We don't have any, but our neighbors do. We can see each other, the cows and I, through the space between the garage and the barn. The other day, as I walked to the garage to fetch something, the cows wandered over to the fence. "Hello, cows," I called. I mooed and they mooed back. On the way back in, though, I forgot to say goodbye. I was halfway back to the house when I heard an impatient, "Moooo!" behind me. "Oh!" I called out. "How rude of me! Goodbye, cows!" Good manners are never wasted, I guess, even on cattle.

A New Parish

The telephone book says there are two churches in our town, but I can only find the one, so I'm thinking the phone book might be wrong. I've gone to three masses there now. There's a full house every Sunday, and they have a 63 member children's choir, though I don't see too many of the families of these children, at least not at the Sunday service. Our first Sunday, I was a little disappointed. I was hoping somebody would talk to me. (I'm shy. Really!) The second Sunday, though, a nice older lady named Pat introduced herself - and thanked me for having such a lovely large family. I was so happy! Now I knew somebody! Yesterday, a different, and boisterous, woman decided that we were officially newbies and took it upon herself to introduce us around. It was a good thing she waited, I suppose, because this was David's first week, and now we BOTH know people. And the children are in the choir now, too. We need friends. :-)

Pat found me again, too. On Friday mornings, a group of ladies meets for "singing - bad singing - fellowship and prayer. The Divine Mercy devotion. Do you know of it?" she asked. Why, yes, I do! It's a very conservative group of women, she made a point of telling me, and she was so excited when she saw the miraculous medals the girls' were wearing last week. I wonder if she ran me by the other ladies before offering the invite. And what gave me away as "conservative"? All those children, perhaps? :-)

Bad Baby

"I not a bad baby. I good baby!" Penelope often says.

But yesterday, she found me and very sadly told me, "I bad baby." I couldn't see that she'd done anything wrong, so I hugged her and told her she wasn't. A few minutes later, though, I found her standing in the corner, where bad babies go, eating a cookie she'd filched from the counter. Bad baby, indeed!