Yesterday I was feeding the chickens and suddenly looked up as I felt a Lull descend like a floating white cotton sheet upon the Farmy. A summer lull. 
Long before the times of fitted sheets, (which I hate by the way – they are useless when the elastic gives up), my mother would make the beds by throwing the sheet high up into the air, adjusting it as it fell through the sunlight, so it floated flat and full straight down onto the mattress in exactly the right spot for her to tuck the sheet in with the perfect hospital corners that we were all taught to do. It is a perfect memory I have of her – looking up at her throwing that sheet. Sometimes if she had time she would Make the Bed on Top of us. She would put the bottom sheet on and we would help tuck it in, cover the pillow with its new pillowcase, holding the pillow between our teeth, then we would lie on the empty bed, our tiny skinny bodies grinning all over, toes wriggling with delight as she stood at the end of the bed and threw the sheet up into the air so it floated ever so softly, gently and perfectly like a mothers kiss to cover me perfectly. Then she would tuck me in. She would kiss me goodnight, bless me, do exactly the same thing for my sister then switch the bedroom light off, turn the passage light on and we would listen to her footsteps as she moved onto the next bedroom filled with more children waiting to be tucked in and then the next one. It must have been a Saturday. We always changed our sheets on a Saturday. I still do.
This is exactly how it felt yesterday afternoon. As though Our Earth Mother had lifted the crisp sun dried sheets with their salty smell of beach breeze and shook them out above me, one after the other, then let the sheets descend ever so slowly, wafting down, the summer quiet floating down to blanket the farm with good.
Every single animal on the farm was asleep in the warm afternoon sun. Everyone but me that is. There is a lot to be learnt from an animals siesta. The cows were down the back as far away as they could get their head tucked into their hocks. Naomi was in her long grass, Little Bobby under his cherry tree, Tima and Tane laid in a mud hole and Manu and Sheila slept in their respective tin huts (I must get a couple more of those before winter). Poppy’s piglets fell off her breasts like fat full babies and slept with their mouths open against her belly. I picked old hard corn and sunflower heads for the animals dinner and worked at releasing the grape vine from its two summers of neglect. But I worked slowly. Without hurry. The muslin of summer resting gently on my shoulders like a blessing.
Even the bird songs, though crystal clear, were strangely muted as though they came from far away. Another dimension or time. I walked into that tunnel of summer stillness and stayed there all afternoon.
Little, drunk each of his bottles without coercion yesterday in fact all the calves drunk everything without complaint. So it was a good day. All the West Wing Barn babies are all on full bottles now. Tomoyo feeds two and I feed the other two and we were looking at each other over their greedy heads and laughing out loud at the delightful sounds and head butting. I am still afraid of being optomistic but they are really doing so much better. And any runny bottoms are few and far between now over there.
Little is still so weak and so slow and still has the scours when he is lying down but is showing signs of waking up. For such a long time he has been In The Woods. I think today will be his turning point – one way or the other.
I hope you have a lovely day,
Your friend on the farm,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
60 responses to “Summer like cotton sheets”
We had tall wooden poles with a little V on top to hoist the clothesline so the sheets wouldn’t drag on the ground. They gave me splinters galore.
I have one of those poles here for my clothesline!
A breathtakingly beautiful post, full of love and peace. It makes me despair of ever being a proper writer!
I’m so happy that the Bobbies are all recovering. Long may it continue.
love from a sunny warm Normandy,
ViV xox
Wow… I know the ‘lull’ ! I have felt the ‘lull’ ! And no one ever explained it before but, YES, it is exactly that, like a freshly laundered sheet floating down on a bed! Man, where did you come up with that description — it is Perfect! I only recall swiftly passing moments of it though, nothing lasting the afternoon. That’s wonderful !
Ha! My Mum also was a trained nurse and our beds all had to be made with hospital corners as well… lol I don’t think hospitals use them any longer though. At least I was a ‘guest’ in hospital this past winter and no hospital corners there. Your remembrance of your mother brought to mind mine and she, too, would toss the sheets up and let them fall. You’re right, they would seem to land in just the exact spot they needed to be. But these days, I do love fitted sheets and haven’t experienced what you seem to have, with ruined elastic corners.
Awww, poor wee Little. But he is eating and, as you said, without coercion so it does seem the worst is over from my viewpoint. Not being right there, though, it’s hard to say. Poor little guy.
Have a great day! ~ Mame 🙂
I was thinking the *exact same* enthusiastic thoughts! I know that lull, I have felt The Lull (in too few but all-the-more-precious moments in this city environment), but I’ve never put this feeling into words, not even in my mind (even though I’m a language person!). Oh yes, I agree wholeheartedly with mame19’s entire first paragraph. Thank you, Celi/Miss C, for this beautiful, perfect imagery (even though I don’t have similar childhood memories)! P.S. Naturally, still sending strengthening vibes for Little…
Loved your description here. I have those summer memories too. Of taking a book and a pillow and climbing up my tree and spending the afternoon up there where the everyday noises were hushed and I could hear the drone of a lawnmower off in the distance and the sound of the car tires shushing on the hot summer asphalt….memories of youth.
It sounds like a perfectly gorgeous day, c. >
Thank you, miss c. This post was like a blessing.
Love these words today. This is a vivid and perfect description of the month of August for me. It is my favorite month.
I do so love the way you tell a story. I have a perfect image in my mind of your mom and those sheets — I can smell their freshness.
Ah, the sheets! One of the few positive memories of my mother was with the sheets. It was my job to put them through the mangle in the basement and then she would pretend to make me up in the bed. Those lovely, heavy cotton sheets coming down in the wonderful old Victorian house we lived in when I was about 4 or 5. And yes, they smelled so wonderful!
We had an old mangle too _ I loved ironing with the mangle.. c
Throwing the sheets into the air. And that wonderful sun dried fresh smell. Summer lull. Perfect. You deserve all that. HUGS and smiles sent
I love it when you have breath to wax lyrical like this, Celi. It makes me feel like I’m right beside you; my every sense becomes synchronized with yours. What a beautiful experience.
Much love,
K
What a lovely thing to say.. c
Thanks to grannymar I now have a photo. That is Snicker. I had him for 12 years. In February of this year he was mauled by a pit bull and I had to put him down. People ask about my getting “another dog”. Snicker, first dog I ever had, was not a dog. He was Snicker.
Well, Miss Celi, you have waxed poetic to the nth degree in this marvelous post. I was taking shorter breaths when you were describing summer like cotton sheets. Someone spoke of a book of yours? How do I find it?
Much love,
Gayle, not anywhere as fuzzy as the photo…heheh.
That is Diane – she wants me to write my memoirs but i am sure you would all die of boredom.. Snicker looks lovely.. c
In a way you’re right, we’re already reading your memoirs. They just aren’t all together in one volume. Something on paper where we can settle on the glider on the porch with an iced tea and linger over the text or study the photos. It would be grand to have that physical book to enjoy, especially on a quiet summer afternoon. Tell Little that with the white heart on his forehead, he is a special boy and has more stories to tell us so he must come out of the woods.
Glad you got it sorted, Gayle. Nice photo of Snicker, sorry you had to put him down.
What an exquisite piece of writing. You evoke those billowing sheets so beautifully. One of my earliest memories of my mum is glimpsing her coming and going between the billowing sheets on the long clothes line with a bamboo pole lifting it up. Cotton sheets & the smell of sunshine – aah.
As I was reading I could feel that summer sheet lull… I love it when you do that! Transport me for some moments to the Prairies and back in time to my childhood at the same time! 🙂 I love line dried cotton sheets and deep quiet summer afternoons. They are some of the benchmarks of a good life.
We certainly could not possibly die of boredom–exhaustion perhaps…not boredom. Never boredom!!