When I brought in my couple of boxes one of the ladies came over to take them.
"Are they heavy?"
"No, it isn't heavy," I said, as I handed the boxes to her.
"Yes they are!" I quickly helped her put them on the ground near a sorting table.
"Sorry, I didn't think they were that heavy."
Another staff member came toward us, "Don't worry about her," she said with a smile.
"Oh, I forget that sometimes I lift more than others without thinking about it." My family has a nickname for me, Powerful Katrina, a nickname from my grandfather. He first called my mom Powerful Katrina, eventually I took on the moniker.
I thanked the ladies and returned home. Here is the view I had as I drove up:
I never seem to get tired of looking at the farm as I drive home. My phone doesn't have the ability to take the shots my eyes see. The sun was shining behind the barn, illuminating the snow on the tin roofs. The red paint on the outside of the buildings stood out in sharp contrast. I could have stayed on the side of the road for a long time looking at the property. There is something about coming home, it settles my spirit, bringing instant contentment.
|Some of our pine trees near the house.|
|Look how creamy my potatoes are!!|