This morning saw me milking Hazel with a tousled little curly haired farmer in striped pj’s and golden dancing shoes leaning on my knee, blankie and teddies clutched in her arms.

“Are you goin’ to milk Hazel?”, she asks. At my “yes”, she pulls boots on while hollering “wait!” and runs to join me. We walk slowly to the barn, past the blossoming squash patch, stopping to open the chicken door and dump slops. Cecily loves the morning routine.

Both girls enjoy our animals, but feeding time is Cecily’s special time. She is still cautious around Hazel but she loves to get her food and to watch while I milk. She carries the eggs to the house and helps feed the cats. It is her chance to step up and be a big kid. And I love it. I can listen to her chatter and answer her uninterrupted by big sister or baby. It is a chance to get to know who my little girl is becoming.

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