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Daphne was outgoing and boisterous, almost like if you could put a firework inside a person. She was colorful, outgoing, not afraid to shine, and simply glowed with a zest for life that was awe-inspiring.
Chris, or Christina, was brilliantly intelligent and a little on the quiet side. When she talked about animals, it was hard to get her to stop… but other than that? She was a listener with a heart of gold.
“Hey, Jill?” Houghton hollered from the entryway. “I’m heading out to get our next victim.”
… And the three girls who were shelling peas smiled at each other in awareness.
Usually, Houghton used weird terms that she assumed harkened back to his days as a medic in the army – just like him insisting that they call him by his last name. His wife was the only one who addressed him as ‘babe,’ and Lena just did not see it. The weathered, grumpy man was always frowning, always sour, and she had come to realize that it was just his personality because he genuinely cared.
This life, this environment, was all about getting back to the basics of life and finding a quiet comfort in it. They woke up early, ate breakfast early, did small chores around the farm that were easier to handle if done by several people, had lunch around one, and supper around six.
Every Sunday, church was at nine sharp – and everyone loaded into the van for the ride into town around eight, making a pit stop for coffee at Tim Hortons. Some nights, she found herself staring at the moon through the window – and other times, she would venture out into the snow for just a few minutes, almost as if she could absorb the ethereal magic and majesty of this quiet place.
It was feeling like home, and she loved it.
“Tonight we’re gonna have a new guest, and I thought I’d make drop biscuits. We’ll have the peas, and then maybe I can talk my sweet Babe into dragging the guys hunting so we have some fresh meat. I’m down to my last two nice-sized roasts in the freezer.”
“We could go into town and get something,” Chris volunteered. “I’d be happy to supply some steak, roasts, or…”
“Nonsense,” Jill smiled. “It gives them something to do, and we try to live off the land as much as possible. Wait ‘til spring – I’m going to wear you girls out.”
Lena laughed easily, realizing it was probably true.
“I tell you what – we could have Gideon grab one of the chickens for me and…”
“Um, I named them,” Lena smiled guiltily.
“I told you not to do that,” Jill protested. “Y’all do not name the farm animals because it makes it harder to do what is necessary.”
“So the sow isn’t named Boss Hogg from the Dukes of Hazzard?” Daphne laughed – and looked at her immediately, shrugging as Jill began laughing again. “Lena, stop naming the animals.”
“I can’t help it. Some of them are so cute. I mean, even Drumstick…”
“Oh heavens, I’m afraid to ask…”
“The rooster,” she volunteered – causing another peal of laughter to erupt between them.
“What’d you name the other chickens,” Daphne grinned.
“A Cup, B Cup, Double D, Chester, and Carpenter’s Dream…”
“What?” Jill exclaimed, wiping the laughter from her eyes. “Why did you name them after bra sizes?”
“Because I know if I’m having chicken for dinner… Double D is gonna get eaten before Carpenter’s Dream,” Lena chuckled, winking at Chris who sat opposite her. “Am I right? If we are killing a chicken, I want the most meat I can get on the bone.”
“Jill?”
“Yes?”
“I noticed that you have a lot of knitted blankets – do you think that maybe you can teach us…”
“Oh! I’d love that,” Daphne volunteered, nodding.
“We’d make our own scarves? Or are we talking blankets?” Chris began.
“Well, we can do both if you want, but let’s start with a simple square, and I would be happy to show you – then it will give you a throw to display in your cabin that you made.”
“We’re back!” Houghton exclaimed and nodded at Jill. “Let’s go, hon.”
