Yep that is purposely misspelled. Because something like a Christmas baby, or any other holiday, I share my birthday with Earth Day. And believe me I was never very happy about sharing my special day. So I wonder how other people share their special day with some holiday. Do you?
Well, as it turns out I was actually born in a snow storm and Earth Day was not dedicated as a holiday until a couple of years later. So does that make me older than dirt? What in the world is this holiday for anyways?
It was first decided upon to make people aware of the way that they were misusing and trashing the Earth. Well, maybe it should be a National Composting Day or something. That’s how I celebrated. I spent a few hours digging up the compost bin into some black trash cans so that it can “cook” and be ready to use as good fertilizer. Actually even though sometimes life hands you a bucket of worms they make the best soil for growing plants in.
So considering that the pile of compost was tomato, lettuce, broccoli stems and other refuse last year, this spring it was some of the most beautiful black soil that I have ever seen. So yeah, maybe I am older than dirt. So what?
Sharing my birthday with Earth Day usually means that I am ready to plant something. But spring is in full force here and all of the trees in the pollenating nature are making my asthma act up. So I kept my outside time to a minimum. Normally, I am pretty much of a minimalist anyways.
Yesterday while digging the compost soil into the trash bins, my life partner hubby threw Honey’s frisbee into the top of the Walnut tree. That made her pretty upset. She even barked at it for a while trying to get it to come down like the squirrels. I promised her that the wind would blow tomorrow (today) and that she would get it back soonb.
So this morning she kept watching out the front window to see if the frisbee had fallen down yet. When it did in the early morning, she barked like mad. Of course I was busy at the moment. When we went out a half hour later, Honey ran straight for the fallen frisbee. Well, I guess, she does understand some things!
-Irth Day should be pretty special really. The Earth has been pretty good to me today. I did not meet it once (in a fall) so I guess that answers that question. The asthma has made it questionable at times. And today I spent some time enjoying the tulips that I buried in the ground last fall. So the Earth has been nice for sure.
So, do you share your birthday with some other known holiday? How does it make you feel special? Or rather how does it make you feel like someone sabotaged your special day? How has the Earth been good to you this week?
Somethings in my life make it seem like the Earth has not been good to me. For instance all the diseases, allergies, and eyesight problems that I have experienced. But maybe that’s just genetics and the poor earth can’t be blamed for everything. And the scars that my body has can prove that the Earth’s gravitational pull has played a nasty number on me a few times also.
Psalm 90:12 ESV “So teach us to number our days that we nay have a heart of wisdom.”
The other morning my return home greeting was dropping a small juice glass in my farm sink. Yep, it broke. Broken glass is not so bad to clean up when it is contained. I was careful in my search for all of the pieces and put them into the bottom of the still intact vintage glass. No cut fingers for me.
And today I feel much like that glass. Broken and useless. The message I heard on the radio was about spiritual warfare. How appropriate I think for how I feel. We have finally had some seasonal rain and now all the trees are budding and the grass and weeds are in full growth mode. My allergies took a nose dive into the tissue box and my head is in so much pain. Honey did not wake me up for my asthma need this morning, so I slept in until past nine.
“—A threefold cord is not quickly broken.” —Ecclesiastes 4:8b (ESV) The fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes has a lot of little nuggets in it. This is one of my favorite. In the passage, the wisdom is for people to work together in unity. Two people pulling in opposite directions are only striving after the wind. One person cannot stay warm on cold nights without an electric blanket. Two are better than one to defeat an assailant. So many little treasures of advice.
The last two Sundays I was blessed to go to church with my mother. The first week there was a missionary and the second week there were two baptisms. This same week a friend of ours shared a video of a testimony from another church in the same community. Seeing the Holy Spirit working in others lives is so uplifting. Staying the week with my mom and sister and her two little ones was more work than I thought it would be. By the end of the week though my old habit of not being able to fall asleep returned.
The first night there we let Kona sleep on the bed with us. Not very restful considering he has never done that before. In the early dawn hours, he woke up forgetting where he was. His frightful bark and the big fat tears in his eyes told me he had been very scared. I snuggled him into bed with me and he settled back down. The rest of the week he slept in his crate like ususal. Sleeping with dog on bed is not my preferred pet method. We both need the complete night of rest to be able to put up with each other all day.
Kona struggled with kid magnetics the first few days together with my little nieces. By the second day they had learned to co-exist and him not be so attracted to their every movement. By the fourth day a real rhythm had been set and he was learning to cue some things. His alerts at first were a little loud. He finally decided it was okay to inside bark that the baby was awake. He also cued some of the alarms around the house. The best was the “importance” of my mom’s pill minder. The last day he decided to walk outside with my mother. She just picked up the leash and took him with. Hmmm-I though she did not like dogs. And he also began noticing if the door did not shut all the way. That was helpful also. Pocket full of treats kept him very busy trying to earn a treat!
Meanwhile, my dad’s world had some bad news the past week. It was really hard to hear such sad happenings. But the day I called to take care of the flowers, he had had such a rough day. It was a blessing to keep in touch with him and hear him reciprocate my “I love you dad.” He has only told me he loves me a hand full of times. I think it meant much to him that I reached out even though I was at my mom’s for the week.
Returning home was “fruit basket upset” for me. I felt bad for not being happy to be home. The moving about and putting everything back in its place gets me pretty frustrated. My eyes just don’t always see what I think should be there. I took a detox bath, but it really did not help much. It wasn’t close enough to bed time to actually work.
The cutest event of the week was when the little girls were getting ready for bed one evening. My sister was making the bottle, and I was trying to “settle” them instead of wind them up. So I sang a silly song about the sun going to bed and so shall I. I taught them the actions of the sun coming up and traveling across the sky until it hit the floor again, then laid down to fall asleep. The third time the girls had the actions down and even Kona layed down on the floor to fall asleep for pretend. It was so cute watching them all interact so sweetly.
When it’s my time to go, I wonder how I will behave. Watching our elderly parents prepare for “the day” is hard. Some get listless and empty, letting go of the daily duties with quite a struggle. Getting them to understand that food is their first need and let someone else do the food preparations, can be such a battle. Others will not allow a hired help to come clean the house just for “privacy” sake or something.
I know it was hard for me to let go of the green house chores for the week and trust others to water, rotate, and watch care. Each sibling handles letting go of the parents differently also. Some just let go before it’s time to even relinquish their elder to this earthly suffering so that they do not have to watch the falling season. Some hang on so hard they won’t let anyone else take certain “cares” on because they have to have some control. In the end, the broken glass just goes when it’s God’s timing. We never really know when the glass will slip out of our hands and the pieces will be left to discard. We don’t even know what pieces we will be left with. God give me the grace to handle each broken glass with care.
I Chronicle 29:20 “then David said to the assembly, ‘Bless the Lord your God’ and all the assembly blessed the Lord, the God of their fathers, and bowed their heads and paid homage to the Lord God, and their king.”
The other day we came home from our day away, and my dear hubby pointed out these poor little flowers. Take a look at the yellow daffodils in the butterfly garden bed. We planted the bulbs two years ago along the edge of the wings. And this year the weather was so warm the first few weeks of March, that the green shoots came forth. Like some long awaited resurrection day, I thought it was so appropriate that they bloomed the day after Easter.
Bowing their heads to pay homage to the creator, the little blooms seemed to declare, “Oh Lord God thank you for this splendid day. Thank you for giving us air to breathe. Thank you for the warm soil, the cold wind, the moisture in rain and snow. Thank You Lord.” Really now, how could I blame them for choosing such a cold and windy day for bursting forth in color and song to the Great Creator!
Not many days ago I heard a message about being on resurrection ground. Rather than looking at the cemetery as a place where the dead are buried, we should consider the fact that there are many brothers and sisters there waiting to be resurrected. Thus we are standing on resurrection ground. It gave me a whole new thought about being out there placing flowers every spring.
How does this translate into my daily duties? Laundry, cleaning floors, dishes, and house up keep is so very tedious and not fun for me. Yesterday I tried to listen to Rich Mullins music while working only to get irritable and turn off the music. There I times that I think about the days that the music bubbled up inside of me like a spring. And sometimes like Old Faithful it would come gushing forth. I just could not stop the new song from happening. I too am a poet and song writer. The words and music just come. But when there is no outlet, no one to share it with, it begins to die off. Like a fruit tree that never gets pruned, eventually the weight of the fruit breaks the branches and opens the tree up for disease and then it dies.
That’s how I feel. Like a broken down tree over laden with rotting fruit on the ground all around me. The trees bow their heads in the strong winds. Perhaps it’s time to be uprooted once again and planted anew by the springs of living water.
Today is pack up and clean up and final preparations for being gone from home for the next week. So yes, I feel like an uprooted plant. All out of the normal. My greenhouse duties are so pleasant for me. I simply did not want to leave. I actually took a couple of phone calls while in the dome. Back at the house the laundry is moved and the body nourished. I just wish I had the energy that I use to have. Packing for the week might be a laundry basket full of clothes instead of a suitcase. It’s easier.
Journal # 285 and over 10K words total is proof that my mother use to always call me a little “wordy!” Here goes for this Monday’s entry. And a deeper dive into what makes me and the things that I say “uniquely me.”
Today is Easter Monday. (I was also pleased that one of the local schools called the day off this on their calendar schedule also.). When I was a child we used to get the day off from school. Super handy for getting that long distance shopping day in or recovering from some spring cough or allergy to rainy season. But spending the day in bed was not part of my schedule. I woke up with the hidden sunrise and heard the raindrops hitting the roof. At least the grass seed that we put out will have a chance to germinate with the moisture.
One of the earliest “quotes” that my parents remind me of is the Sunday that I went to church and boldly proclaimed “Our Daddy left us!” My mother was attending a staunchly German Baptist church at the time with her three little girls. The pews were set up so that no woman ever sat by a man who was not her husband. This statement surely embarrassed both her and any other ears that heard. My dad was gone on an Elk hunt with some very men from the community. He had only left for a two week time frame. What on earth did those stiff upper class folks think of this family of three little girls with such a “man’s man” father?
Today the turkey carcas is in the crock pot smelling the whole house up. We had the meat for the Sunday gathering meal. So today it’s time to cook up the bone broth. I really don’t like slow cooker Monday. It kind of ruins my appetite for eating supper. Smelling the scent all day long does that for me.
Snow holidays are usualy Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, and Valentine’s Day. But ever since we lived in Minnesota for a few years, I am no longer disappointed with Easter Sno. It snowed all four years that we spent Easter up there. When Easter falls in March or early April, one can expect colder weather in this northern hemisphere.
With pleasure a couple of memories came flooding back into my mind today. The turkey smell made me think of how many times my aunt and her sister’s actually killed and roasted a wild turkey for our family Thanksgiving or Christmas gathering. My auntie was such a good cook. And the other memory is of my Grandfather expecting the home health nurse to help him clean the turkey before she could take care of Grandma. Only in western South Dakota would the home health care worker need to know how to clean and dress a turkey along with an elderly fragile person’s care..
I am listening to the Rich Mullins “devotional-biography” that I found on my audible listening app. The first question that was posed to me is: What Makes Me Uniquely Me? Of course the answer is our genes, our lineage, our unique set of circumstances and upbringing. Here I will attempt to answer that question throughout these journal writings.
Moving things around in the greenhouse does not seem necessary when the sun is not shining. But rotating the geraniums is key to a well rounded plant. It is so fun to see all the blooms showing up. I am super happy that some of the two-tone varieties actually rooted up this year. The single colors make wonderful long distant displays from the road, but the bicolor blooms are great table top or stair case plants. Just like each plant is unique in it’s own way, so are we one of a kind. Indeed all of life’s moving our family around when I was a child and as an adult played a part in shaping me. Making me relatable and flexible to each and every church community that I participated in.
Hubby finally sold the junk car this week. It’s been sitting idle for two or more years. Last use was my daughter’s bum car so she could get back and forth to work in bad weather. I am glad to see it go. With only one driver on the farm here, it seemed silly to hang unto it just because… for what? I don’t need a car to drive, because I no longer drive.
This week the little petunias have to get potted up. But it’s so cold down in the greenhouse for working with 50 degree soil. Okay maybe it’s warmer than that but at 55 degrees my hands just get too cold. Hopefully they can make it until Wednesday when the sun is shining.
I know that I am the only ME that there will ever be. Thinking about the special touch of the Creator on my life is key to not blaming my genetic line for all of my “faults” and letting God be sovereign in my life. From letting go of a car I cannot drive, to preparing the greenhouse to be watched over by someone else all plays into my acceptance of who I am today. Sunday morning when I was blessed to play the Easter church service prelude, I found myself truly worshiping God while I played the piano. My three days of practice had payed off and I could give my best to the Master Creator who had made me ME. No longer able to read the music, I had to study it prior to pounding out the chord progressions and then figure out how to move from one to the next with no music in front of me at all. All of my life challenges and struggles had come to that point for me. And I truly did have fun making playing the piano like child’s play.
And YOU are the only you that there will ever be. What about your family heritage made your Easter especially special this year? What about your struggles and challenges makes you a better you than you were many years ago? What about today speaks to your unique time and place and shows you that God’s hand has been there all along leading you up to this day?
Saturday I witnessed a health care worker in action. I was both amazed at her quick decisions and her patience in turn. The fact that she is my niece and “watch” caring for my mother makes it only more blessed in my mind. While everyone is feeling the loss of the changing of seasons in my mother’s life, I am going to focus on the blessings. I want to taste God’s goodness during this season. One time nearly 24 years ago, I wrote a poem that I turned to song about these seasons.
The Spring of the year does not seem quite like the right time to begin seeing the autumn of one’s parents. But along with the fall comes the harvest. And Harvest is everyone’s favorite of gathering up all the goodies that God has blessed us with. So while my parents (all four of them in fact) are going into their season of fall in life, I want to focus on the bounty that God’s goodness has given them all these years.
Railings are such good help when we use them and when they are there. Our back porch and front deck went without such things for the first ten years or more while we lived here. The railing on the front deck was put up first. And we adjusted the steps to make them wider and more functional. The back porch “basket” was done a little later. My eyesight was failing in peripheral enough to make the railings necessary. No more running down or up the steps for me. So getting the railing down the basement steps in my mother’s house was a necessary item that we felt should not be delayed. My husband installed it on Saturday
Keeping aging parents in their home as long as possible can be somewhat of a hardship on the children balancing the watch care. Life becomes something of a juggling act as each one takes turns. There is no sense that life is on hold as the days come rushing by and things need to be done faster that one can think to schedule each day into the calendar. No one is particularly just waitng for the “big fall” rather we are all trying not to miss the balls as they fly through the air to us.
Knowing that my eyesight plays a pivotal role in me even catching one of those flying objects, I hope the others will be nice and roll the ball to me and let me know when it’s my turn to catch something. So here I go trying to schedule my greenhouse care and my doggie duties around traveling. And I’m not a very good traveler. I have already begun preferring to stay home.
I found this verse in my reading time the other day. Psalm 138:8 “The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me: Your steadfast love, O Lord endures forever, Do not forsake the work of your hands.” There are verses about us being the “workmanship” of the Almighty. This verse really brought me peace when I was thinking of the days that God has ordained for each of us to live.
My hubby found a little saying that was a gardener’s “ excuse me.” Many times in life for some no apparent reason something in the greenhouse or in the house, plants just dies. The saying was another persons take on the situation. “You are a really good gardener, that plant should have tried a little harder.” But plant’s aren’t like people. And while some plants tell you that something is wrong, most of the time the disease happens way too quickly for me to respond in appropriate care. Having bad eyesight in the gardening field can cost me a whole crop. Preventive maintenance has to be part of my routine. So this winter and early spring I found a dish soap insecticidal spray and cinnamon are doing their job well to keep away some pest issues in the greenhouse.
Of neglected plants… Here below the first picture on the left is a Kalanchoe that my mother in law was “not” nurturing well. The little thing bloomed it’s head off for over three months. Finally after not receiving water on a weekly basis it decided to start dyring up. Then there is all the tulips at our place that came up the first two weeks of March only to get froze off not just once but three or four times. The first plant to show stress of my mother’s lack of “time” concept was her holiday cactus. She did get it moved out of the house last summer to finish it’s slow death outside. Plants in distress can make such a mess in the house.
Leaving the elderly alone for the holidays is also a “slow” death process. I blame the pandemic for the “keeping everyone safe” mentality that left far too many people alone for too long. I think I’m going to adopt my daughter’s mindset that says life is for living not for trying to stay safe all the time. Most of the elderly I know would rather just see their family than NOT see their family.
This week is the Easter Season, or the Holy Week. I have not been able to focus on the Scripture study that I normally do this time of year. So I’m glad that our Pastor chose a familiar text for his sermons around the special holiday. The 23rd Psalm has been one of my focus studies many times. It seems doubly important during this season of our lives.
I use to ask people around me what “season” of Psalm 23 did they find themselves in?… And right now I find myself longing for the Shepherd’s tender leading as I try to find the right paths to take each every day. The words “lead me” occur twice in the passage, so that’s what I’ll focus on asking Him. Lead me softly, Lord, Lead me gently. Just Lead me!
Side note: Kona got his first professional haircut yesterday. He won the cutest dog of the day award. What an enjoyable little bit of goodness in this season of changing goodness!
“Lord help me to taste Your goodness through each and every day. Even if there are some bitter herbs, lead me through the entire path that You have for me Don’t let me miss anything You have for me to taste!”
We watched a movie about the VonTrap Family a few weeks ago and the main character said this quote above to her young niece. Indeed it seems to sum up all the happenings of the last few weeks. I have tried to write little “snippets” of things over this time frame and nothing seems to flow. Keeping the thoughts relevant to a particular theme for the writing has been hard with only a little moment or two to write.
This morning my mother’s distraction while on the phone definitely attested to her recent mild stroke symptoms. I called her in the middle of her thought process with another sibling, the other phone rang, and the support person there at the house had to take her dog out. Too much all at once and my mother set me down-the phone she was holding the call on. After five minutes of listening, I just hung up. She was not going to remember me at the moment. Ten minutes later, delayed response, she called me back to hear what it was I had called about. Short term memory lapse is sometimes funny. Most of the time just annoying.
So rather than letting my writing be all chopped up and from several different sit-down-type-sessions, I decided to start all over and drop the disrated writing attempts. I didn’t want everyone to feel like they were on a video chat with my daughter, mother of four little ones. Children don’t let mommy get anything done in straight order. Five minute intervals are all one get before someone is crying or needs a discipline action.
My ability to crochet a project has taken a nose dive also. I tried to do some mosaic crochet stitch sampler only to run out of one of the yarns that I was using as a base color. I miss crochet. It is someone of an anti-fret-not-knots for me. So I looked up some of the fret not sayings and studied the meanin. Fret means to work oneself up into anger enough to do damage. Fret not means to let go of the thing “bothering” oneself into a worked up mess. A “fret knot” on the instrument is a way of tying the wire (that is used for resonating sound) so as to allow the wire to accept the tension of plucking to make a pleason sound. My children played stringed instruments so I know the importance of the fret board or the “pegs.” Little kids see those frets and just want to turn the “buttons” instead of leaving them alone. We are all like little kids in that respect, We want to twist up the tension until things break.
How can I take this lesson to heart? How can I truly “fret not” over the future that is in store for me, or others? Especially right now… while I worry about my mother’s recent stroke or any of my other family and their prayer needs. My natural release has always been to crochet. And making the fret knots with my hook usually helps. Until now when my mind is so worried I can’t come up with a project that I am happy with. Like the peg or fret I must find a way to anchor myself in the Lord’s promise that He will hlep me make a beautiful sound when the tension arises.
The other fret not activity for me is my gardening or greenhouse. I have found with Kona that I am not spending the hours of consecutive working in the greenhouse like I use too. And so far taking him with has not worked well. He wants to pick things up that he should not chew on and therefore “ruins” the peace of my sanctuary in the garden dome structure. One day maybe we’ll get this figured out. When he does not behave, I just bring him back to the house and put him in the crate. Someday he’ll learn to be with me is enough. Every dog is a bit of a snoopy during their early years.
And meanwhile all this happenings of disabling busy worrying, my heart has rested on a couple of verses for spiritual food. Psalm 37:7-8 “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him…Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.”
The bigger picture is only seen by the Lord. Right now I am living is the little tiny corner of the painting and I have no clue what else is on the canvas. I am standing so close to the thing, only hindsight will show me the rest of the true view. Because my eyesight often puts this exact phenomenon into play for me, I understand the quote readily. My tunnel vision works that way. When I look at a hymn I have to be close enough to see the note on the line or between the line, only to loose sight of the rest of the stanza. Therefore beign too close to get the full view of the hymns melody.
Two different analogies but very relatable to me with my failing eyesight. The painting or the hymn is best viewed or heard in it’s entirety. We don’t always have that luxury. For now I will simply have to wait on the Lord.
Sometimes we keep things way past their point of use. We call that insuring the sentimental value. Why? Well, sometimes it takes ten years or more to say goodbye properly.
When our dog Furbie died the kids were off to college and I could no longer drive anywhere that I wanted to. Life had changed in a very hard way for me. And with the last link to the “girls” gone, I just simply could not stop the flow of tears. I even went to the doctor to try to settle the grief score and the emotions would not heal easily. So we tried another puppy and only got a bad mistake. For the next three years the-dog-that-does-not-deserve-a-name was trying his hardest to make me glad again. It did not work. And because the poor little thing mirrored my emotional upheaval perfectly, he developed a bad gut. (The bad stomach came from an overnight visit to a neighbor who did not understand the no people food rule of small dogs.). We ended up having to put the dog down.
Those few years of lost connections to the days when my girls were about the house were hard. Our first dog died the fall the first daughter went off to college. Then the second during the spring of the second daughter’s freshman year. And then three years into the college gig and the third doggie died of diabetes just after our first daughter became engaged. Rough times but life was marching on and it was time to write a new future for myself.
Don’t feed the bitter roots. This is easier said than done. I think of all the history of this place in which I live. The homestead has so many rich stories of the people who have lived here and farmed and kept the place what it is. All those years of sheep and herdingthe girls and pets around. I did not have time to think of what went on before us. Now time is all that I seem to have
There are some happenings on any acreage that could keep others from wanting to even live there. We ddecided to not feed those bitter roots and bring life to the place. But one of our old friends during our sheep days would say, “when you have livestock, sometimes you have dead stock.” So I began to take the passing of my cats and doggies differently.
All dogs go to heaven? Well, my mind is not so sure about all of that simplistic thought. Perhaps they do. I still feel a little guilty about not bringing Furbie’s body back home to be buried. Sometimes grief really clouds the thinking channels. But animals don’t have a soul like people do. Animals have spirit, personality, and character traits. Some just seem to be larger than life, and are harder to let go of. Like Furbie.
The blanket in the first picture was his special blanket that I crocheted for him after umpteen projects that he would “test” out for me. Every thing that I crocheted had to be tried by his furry little body to see if it was worthy of a nap. Of course, I made a lot of rugs during those days so that was fine with me. But soon even the afghans and blankets had to be tested. So I found this old project from years past, pulled out the yarn and made him his own Zen blanket. (I don’t really believe in any of that stuff.)
For sentimental value I saved the blanket in a ziplock blanket bag in the top of some closet. It took me four months to get up the courage to pull out of the step-stool and look for it. Yep, this little doggie can only be seen on the white side. It’s time to say goodbye to the zen and do a makeover.
Look for positive and join in. This is a great policy in life when working with other people in a work situation or community setting. We looked for a new kind of dog bed that would work in our current lifestyle. So this little “trough” style bed seemed just right to me.
Making it was a trial in and of itself. My poor hubby had a board from up in the attic of the garage come down and bite him in the lip. It took a few layers of skin right off his upper lip. Miserable. Poor thing still can’t pucker up as the pain is bothering him yet. But I think he did a great job on the little bed. The other evening during supper Kona had half his body underneath the bed retrieveing a toy. That was so funny I nearly cried laughing!
Now of course the decision is paint or stain. I think we are leaning towards painting it white-ish so that it reflects light and it is easier to find him. We’ll see what it looks like after the blanket is done and in it.
Keeping things for one reason or another can make for a very cluttered house. Trying to find Furbie’s crocheted blanket occupied my thoughts longer than the actual activity of getting it out of the closet keeper. I am glad we keep it even though I have no special memorial spot for the first few pets, at least this black and white yarn will bring back a smile.
Holding water in one’s hand. That’s what they say about trying to hang unto the past when the present is drowning out old memories. I hope I always have room for the hear and now. And I pray I will seek to make new memories always.
The past four days while experiencing this momentary affliction that life on this earth sometimes has to offer us, I spent a lot of time in the numbness of pain. Not even thinking of the morrow, just looking for the next hour to pass can be feel pretty hopeless at times. Nevertheless, the hours to go by. Time does march on. The stomach bug does flush away to the land of never-ness. Until next time, and I wonder what have I learned from this suffering? How has this made me more like Christ? How did this conform me to the image of the invisible God-head?
Movie Watch: Moonrise, Heaven’s Door and Land all on prime video. We tried a couple on the tv smart stations but they are so old we could hardly handle the language and drunken escapades. Land is about a woman who has given up on people and tries to go live off the land in the mountains by herself. Only to find out that she can still learn from another person. Heaven’s Door is about a family who looses a grandfather just after loosing a baby. The eldest daughter shows them waht is like to have childlike faith in the aterlife and yet in the her and now. Moonrise is also a “grief-loss-gain” movie. A country singer finds his way back to the trade through hiring a horse trainer. What they all have in common is that everyone needs some form of grief counseling simply because we live on this fallen planet. Affliction adn suffering happens to everyone. What we chose to do with it is another matter.
Sentimental Value can have us grasping to hang unto things like water in nne’s hand. I think of this as the yarn slips through my fingers. What was here today may be gone tomorrow. Puppies aren’t forever. Yarn might last more than a lifetime if it’s taken care of properly. What really lasts is the pleasure we derive from such vain things. And may we grasp that even such joy comes from the Giver who can hold the oceans in one hand.
“Yet it was kind of you to share my troubles.” —Phil. 4:14 ESV
T shirts with attitude sayings are not particularly my thing. But this one should be part of my wardrobe as there are so many times that I run into people without meaning to. Even today I used a more polite “excuse me” as we were out and about shopping. But the biggest issue today was my poor little doggy.
I know that I have anxiety, but today it was challenged to the point of panic driven behavior. Just afternoon about one o’clock I took the dogs out for a stroll outside to find a couple items. We walked quite a bit from building and finally after the mail. On the way back from the mailbox, Charlie put Zucchi, the cat, up the ash tree. It was sort of funny. Then we came back into the house.
I was eating my snack and drink and not paying attention to the puppy when suddenly it dawned on me that he was not nearby. Immediately I began calling his name and got no response. “Kona Come!” So anxiety kicked in and I began looking everywhere in the house for him. (So I thought.). The behind the doors, under the beds, behind the sofa and in my search I noticed the front screen door was slightly ajar. The warm-ish weather always makes the frame swell and it has to be pulled shut to latch.
My brain said, he’s not in the house, he must have slipped outside. The first few minutes outside started the “baffled” feeling. Where was Kona? To me he was lost, hung up on the short leash that I had left on him. After fifteen minutes outside, I panicked. Literally. I was a hot mess.
Lost puppy is not how I expected the day to happen. And valentine’s day at that. A few phones calls, constant searching, lots of walking. I was trying not to trip in my tear induced state. Where was my puppy? To me, he was lost.
Blind Lady Trial number 3, 429 was in full scale. How in the world could I be trusted with the care of anything? Apparently a little black puppy had done me in. I was now a complete wreck. Gavin came home with the truck and the dog in the house barked. Honey had been in the house because I had a neighbor helping me look outside and she was just in the way. Then he heard another tell tale bark.
Searching through the house, he found the little black Shih Tzu wrapped up around the chair and the piano bench legs. The leash that I had left on the collar did get stuck on something. And yes, he was wrapped up around some major sticks (of furniture). He was stuck enough not to respond to my calls.
Why had he not barked ever for me? Why had he not answered me with a bark or whine? I know he’s a quiet little puppy most of the time but this was a bit much. Perhaps he had tried to get unstuck and only made the collar tighter so that he could not bark. Obviously he had hidden there to chew on a little twig or something. But really? Excuse me puppy, but you were in my blind spot. I had even looked under the piano bench. But not under that chair as he had never gone under the chair before.
“I’m sorry you lost your puppy.” This was little Melody a few hours later when we dropped off an item or two at her house. Who had told her, we don’t know. But the tears in her eyes were as real as the tears that I had shed earlier. She wanted assurance that all of the puppies and kitties that we had were okay. Honey? She’s in the pickup with Kona. Charlie? He’s home in his hut. The kittens? They are all in their little houses. Okay. Okay!
This past evening we put an Air Tag on the dog’s collar. Yes we did the research, and decided the benefits outweigh any risk. The Air tag is in a silicone case on his collar. And it is the cheapeast piece that we could do for peace of mind. Philipians 4 has much advice for us who suffer anxiety. Verse six and verse 13 tell us to put anxious thoughts in their corret place and do things in the strength of our Lord. But I am loving verse 14 right now. “Yet it was kind of you to share our troubles.”
Well, I boiled that cup of tea a bit strong. And I did not do so well on hunting for a new harness for him either. I neglected the fact that we have to pick him up to get in and out of the truck. The harness was an H style without a chest to girth support. He has to have the X style, even if it is not the step in. Though I think he likes the step in, he’s pretty quick at “Buckle Up!” So I am back to the drawing board on a new harness. Bugger. The Step in X is the best style for smaller dogs so that they cannot excape. The one I ordered had the x over the top not under the girth. Bother.
Blind lady issues will be part of my life going forward. I have RP or retinitis pigmentosia. Loosing things is part of my life. Like the other day when I spent all day looking for my woolen homespun crocheted hat. It was on the table full of what nots! We just have to find the right tools to help me in my “trade.” One of our recent purchases was a talking thermometer. That was very helpful when I had my ear infection. Another recent purchase was the cup full meter. It beeps much like the back-up alarm on the truck. Closer. Closer okay over filled! I use it daily multiple times. And I don’t even poor my dark drink into a dark cup!
Unfortunately I can’t wear an Air Tag or a too close meter for people when I am out and about. Can you imagine the alarm going off constantly because someone is in my blind spot? The nerve of people to get close enough that my alarm might go off. Spacial awareness is not the God given gift of everyone in the world. Some of us are visually challenged. The other day while picking up the puppy and “bed” at my daughter’s house I knocked over the oldest grand child because I did not know that she was in RANGE. Oops. Much apologies later, I was back in route to my destination. Yep, I’m blind. Sorry little girly! Too close meter might not have even worked in that situation.
It has been a very long time since I have done an update that is concentrated on one topic. My life is full and though I might find it hard to be content, there is one building on my farm that I can go to and loose myself. Literally. I just never really want to leave once I get down to my little dome greenhouse. Yes for Greenfield Greenhouse! I am very thankful. Note the little tree outside the door is one that the birds lanted at my daughter’s house a couple years ago. It’s been in that pot for a whole year now.
Geranium count is well over 300. The babies are at over 144 as the trays hold eighteen each. I counted around 84 plants that belong to someone as the greenhouse host program. These host plants are all tagged and will return to the owners over the summer. I am so grateful for the cuttings that I have received. This is truly how I can justify keeping the heat on in the greenhouse. As the cuttings that I take are my “cash crop.”
The snow and ice cap from “father Winter” was perfect for that cold snap last month. It truly does insulate the greenhouse from the bitter cold. I’m sure the melt is hard on the building. But It kept the building at a very steady fifty degrees Fahrenheit. The ice over the front door was rough, but Gavin got it thawed out with a heat gun. Then the little fan on the floor has kept it from refreezing shut.
Vents are opened up now. With these forty degrees days it has reached the mid 80’s. Which by the way is perfect growing weather. The humidity also stays really steady during the night and early morning hours. I am also so grateful for my remote WiFi thermometer. It has really helped my peace of mind during the cold days of winter.
So the pathway is starting to close in. There are thirteen large five gallon size geraniums around the horse shoe middle bed. While I cut them all back in the fall to get them into the greenhouse, they still take up a lot of space. These cuttings are how i get all those geranium babies!
The two pictures on the right below are a bit of the process. In the fall I put the cuttings directly into dry growing mix. The rectangular containers (or oval) work the best as the soil is just deep enough to encourage root growth. For two or three weeks all they get is some misting water. The tank is the best place for this delicate propagation station. The air is steady and the humidity constant because of the 1000 gallon water tank. The water tank acts as a heat battery, warming the greenhouse at night and cooling it during the day. And the temperature stays very stable in this central location. The dappled sunlight is also ideal. Each year it seems that I throw less and less rotted cuttings away.
I use to keep only two or three Bostons Ferns over the tank. This picture on the lesft shows the browning fern.. But since the price of the plants have gone up (anywhere from 30 to 45 dollars for this size seen here) I now have eight ferns total in the greenhouse. Three of them came from other people but as ususal the care that a plant gets prior to arrival shows up pretty fast once in the growing dome. Two of them look pretty sad. This one is a little too close to our heat source. So it’s time to rotate them all.
Movie list continues with watching “midnight in Paris.” Does it not seem like always that 20 or 30 years ago was the golden age rather than the present that we’re living in? And yes the movie is a fall apart romance that ends with another one beginning. There are so many lessons to grasp from the wanna-be-writer. It will be enteresting to see these lessons of life come out in my book about Cocoa.
While I’m busy writing about Cocoa in the past, I will focus on living now. Trying to remember the funny things that my husband says is one of my new goals for the year. For the life of me, my brain just does not work that way. I struggle with remember the “Gavin-isms.”
February is the second month of the year. I finally got my chapter two of Ecclesiastes read and found a gem of a verse towards the end. My cousin’s son in physical rehabilitation after his colon surgery has been on my mind so much. Surely, it is true that without God who can even eat? Finding enjoyment in food is also another one of my goals for the new year. I am simply not a foodie. Ecclesiastes two verse 24-25: “there is nothing better for a person to do than that. He should eat drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw is from the hand of God, for apart from God who can eat or have enjoyment.” ESV
Epilogue: yes I have been distracted again. Finally got my edits done. I employed my hubby the other day to help me with some seed planting. He got to see how very tiny those petunia seeds are. I only planted six cool whip tubs. They supply me, and a few others. Also finally planted some geranium seeds. This is a first for me. The cuttings have worked so well and are such little “work” that I have neglected to do seeds as the mosture control can be tricky. I’ll let you know!
Yvonne Annette 