Golf is one of those sports that I always kind of laughed at, I figured I could learn it as soon as my body stopped producing testosterone and adrenaline. In the last two years I have now played 24 holes, just enough to understand the challenge and get frustrated. I will play golf again if someone asks, but it is still a sport that will take a long time for me to get into.
Another one of these things that I have started to understand as I get older is the Bed and Breakfast. A few years ago I just could not understand the attraction, if I had the time, I would rather go camping. But now, being married and trying to be a good husband, I have been to a bed and breakfast. We just got back from the Mountainside Farm Bed and Breakfast in Jackson, New Hampshire.
We had a very relaxing time. I also had a lot of time to think. I brought my bible, my journal, and a set of blogs written a little while ago called “Walden and other writings”, by Thoreau. So we spent some time reading and writing, then took Sequoia and the 4 collies (one is missing an eye, one is missing a leg) that live there for a walk. It was such a beautiful trail, a brisk day, we followed some fresh moose tracks, and we just really enjoyed the time.
We then went and got a pizza and a beer, watched some football, and came back to the farm for our heavenly chorus.
Joanie is the owner of this B&B, she goes to church with Bob Martin, who I went to Guyana with (he was there for the kids calling me fat man), and the Comeau family, Dave was the director of New England Frontier Camp when I worked there, and has seven kids. The Comeaus were missionaries to Bolivia, where I was born, but in a different area. (on a side note, one of my favorite stories of the Comeau kids: they used to play ‘spy’, where they would hide and you would have no idea they were around, one time I was walking down a trail near tree-rock (a tree grows out of this huge rock) and let a good loud 7 step fart (you know, a toot with each step, for 7 steps) out, thinking no one was around, and heard the pack of them in a tree like a family of raccoons laughing at me).
Joanie owns the collies and also has 10 horses and a goat, one mini- pony wanders around the property like a dog, and it was our job to feed them, in exchange for staying there, because Joanie was going away for the weekend. When we came back from getting our pizza, we threw them some hay, and I took a few seconds in the cold air to admire the full moon over the mountains. To watch the clouds roll by, glowing in the moonlight. If only we had remembered our camera, but a picture could never truly capture the moment, when you hear the heavenly chorus of 10 horses and a goat farting away. It was constant harmony.
I was trying to think of the moral of this experience, how do I adjust this to God? His sense of humor? Make a joyful noise? Even the rocks (do rocks get gas?) will cry out? Full of hot air? Our stinky opinions? I don’t know.
