No, not the dance; I am referring to the 19 minute hunt Jay took less than an hour ago which resulted in him bringing home another 10+ pound hen turkey and busting up the rest of the flock for the morning’s hunt.
The evidence:
As you see, Hawthorne was quite taken with her.
Here is the goose girl’s goose:
And another:
It is not just her. It is familial.
Ellie emailed me today with news that Celia is dead.
About 15 years ago Jay was wrongly accused of a misdeed at his former job. He was charged with a felony. We spent a year’s plus adoption savings retaining the best lawyer in town–and the charges were dropped. But the lawyer kept the fee, and eventually Jay was pushed out of the job in an academic atmosphere that was smarmy at best.
He was without work for several months. He had a specific list of items “the perfect job” would have, which was the subject of much prayer. Not that he would have refused a job not meeting those criteria, you understand.
The summer came. The Black Sheep Handspinner’s Guild, of which I have been a member for over two decades now, were having a picnic down at Stewart Park, where there used to be a merry-go-round. It was owned by Black Sheep members. We had Isaac then and everyone with children (and some without) liked to ride the horses. Over and over and over.
Anyway, as we were laying out the picnic, Celia and I were talking and she asked if I knew anyone who needed a job. Well, yes, I did. Jay needed one. She spoke to him then and there, hiring him part time essentially on the spot. It soon turned into a full time position. And guess what? It is the job he still has. It is the job he still loves. It is the job that still meets each and every one of the items on Jay’s list of “the perfect job”.
All thanks to Celia.
