The Best And Most Interesting Thing That Has Ever Happened To Me.

It was around twenty one years ago that I first met the woman that would wind up being married to me for 17 years, as of today, our anniversary. Unfortunately for me, I have no real recollection of that first meeting with her, most likely due, if I know the Daniel Foster of twenty one years ago, to the ingestion of a large amount of intoxicating substance, perhaps legal and perhaps not. However, sooner than later, after a real life changing encounter with Christ, I soon learned to master the ability to recollect meeting people and I do indeed recall the next time I  met her. Even that time, I wasn't just "blown- away" by her, most certainly because of my own shallowness and self interest getting in the way. We became friends quickly enough though, and "long story shortened," after a lengthy friendship we began dating, then became engaged, then married. I was so proud of her in those months prior to getting married and in retrospect, must have quite disgusted my coworkers in regaling them with the many glowing traits of my wife-to-be, not the least of these were her kindness, her work ethic, her uncommon good sense, her commitment to God, and her creativity. I thought I knew her so well.

There was just one little problem with this; in reality, I barely knew her at all. The reality is that while I wasn't wrong about any of these things, I had NO idea of the depth of this person or the depth of these character traits that she exhibited. "Herself," or more often "SMOKIN' HOT MAMA!" (she is known as either in our household) is all of those things listed above, but on a much, much deeper level than I could have ever have imagined. Those of you who know her, know that to say something like "Brynn is a creative person," is like saying "Donald Trump is a little full of himself". Now she seems the most interesting person I've ever met; how can one person be ALL of these things? Someone so sensitive to people around her, and not just sensitive to them, but a willingness to reach out and be kind to them? And sensitive enough to try REALLY HARD to be understood completely.  It is so startling to me, who is always "doing fine, thank you" and expects you to do the same, whether you are or not. And the term "common sense" doesn't begin to cut it. How many times have I been enraged at something, only to be talked off the ledge by Herself?

But it's the creative side of her that I find so enchanting. As something of a shy introvert, she spends a good deal of her days dreaming up things that are so fantastic to me (I mean that in the sense of the unreal, or unbelievable) that I am never quit to be amazed, and in diverse media, as well. There is the creation of food, bags, jewelry, clothes, wall hangings, decorating; it goes on and on. And it seems to be drawn from a well so deep that it is seemingly bottomless, and she draws from that well of creativity almost out of compulsion. She just oozes creativity; sometimes I feel like a Cro-magnon man, standing around, drooling, while she creates masterpieces all around her, and, at the risk of sound gushy, creating these astounding symphonies of food, complete with a melody and multi-part harmonization; how many times has she asked me (as if I had an opinion) "don't you think this would go well with this?" To which all I can do is scratch my bottom and reply, "I dunno, it sounds kinda weird." But upon tasting it, it isn't weird, it's amazing; who can do that, imagine up new food? I mean, that tastes good. Consistently, even! How did I ever get this girl? I'm the definition of the complete opposite of her finer senses; the things I enjoy doing are base, earthy things that peasants have done for millennia: growing food like fruits and vegetables, raising animals, butchering animals, milking animals, curing/smoking meat, just basically providing food. 

I'll do everyone a favor and not wax eloquent about all the other things that I could go on and on about.  But, without any hint of doubt, the last 17 years of my life have been the best, and Brynn, you are certainly the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me!  Thank you for making these 17 years so interesting...

First frost

After I got done milking this morning (Saturday), I walked to what we refer to as "The Low Pasture" to check up on the beasts there. I had already noticed that it was quite cool, and there was a serious frost upon the windows and the vegetation, the first "killing frost" we've had this year. As I walked through the crunchy grass, breaking off frozen blades in the bright, sharply angled, winter sunlight, I heard a gentle pop, and turned to see what it was.  But as I looked, I could see nothing; all I saw were trees and a single leaf floating to the ground. Still looking, listening intently on this almost perfectly still morning, the air just barely stirred, nearly imperceptibly.  Then just as I felt the air move I heard it again; pop... pop... and then popopopopopopopop! The sound was actually the noise the leaf makes when disconnecting from the tree.  I witnessed the very moment when all things came into place for the time to be right to start dropping leaves, and did they ever!  These Mulberry trees that have been standing over my property for most of a century prior to it becoming my property were dropping leaves like rain, covering the ground like a blanket as the very light breeze did gentle violence to the trees.  I walked closer and couldn't help but drop to my knees in the frosty grass, crushed by the beauty and splendor of the moment, to give thanks and worship the God that put me in such a place that allows me to be the intimate witness to the unhurried undressing of these trees, yet some of them for reasons unknown, seemed to shed their coverings more hurriedly than others, like a young husband anxious to slide between the sheets with his bride.

And then just in time, lest this moment be spoiled by not having anyone with which to share it, my very nearly 12-year-old son Isaiah happened along with his new bb-gun looking for something to shoot.  I beckoned him over and he knelt down patiently beside his very strange father and together we enjoyed the quiet cacophony of half a dozen trees exfoliating in this still, bright morning.