Gardener’s Hiatus

Another litter of kittens found their way into the dog hut next to the house. Our poor old Eva was kicked out once again. She usually sleeps in the hut on the old house porch though. Lela is the mama kitty. She and Stitch were sister kittens a few years back. Both are quite wild. I cannot catch Lela, though she does come for extra milk and fat the last few weeks.

So there are five little kittens to name and play with and pick up. The little fur balls were not too keen on the handling today. A good pair of sheep gloves came in handy. Two of the little hissy-fits were pretty scary. But I picked them up with out much damage to their pride or my fingers.

The “Complete Sherlock Holmes” has been keeping me company this past week. And the last few days I fell ill with some sort of flu bug that gave me none other than extreme fatigue. Of course, I had to look up sleeping sickness and found there is a real thing. So thank goodness it was not that. But after three days and nights of such lethargy, my hubby dragged me off to the doctor for some blood work and a check up. All is well, just busy fighting off some virus or another.

Glad, to say that I have actually been upright for nearly three hours now! The heavy limbs and head ache are a bit nagging, but none-the-less the symptoms are so few, that I was quite nervous at the amount of sleeping one can achieve when fighting off some viral bug. Much fluid intake at least kept me rising to use the facilities.

Upon some further investigation, we presume perhaps a flu bug just had no chance with all my fluid intake and vitamin consumption. I am rather thankful not to suffer the stomach bug as the some other extended family had the misfortune to befall.

So, inspired by the little hats that I conjured up about a month ago, I began this little prayer shawl. Not sure how many I will make after this fashion, but the pattern is an easy one to attempt and does not require much for concentration. My faculties have been in the dull-drums of late, so it was smoothen to do as I work back into my house keeping chores. Even, the laundry lady suffered. She is nearly exhausted jut over the sorting!. (I am the laundry lady and took a short snooze after that chore completed!)

The chief cook and bottle washer have gone on vacation. The gardener left the morning’s work unattended. The maid has not tended to any of the house hold duties. The dog trainer was under the covers for nearly three days and may return by the morrow. The grandchildren’s Oma even lost tuch with reality for nearly a day or two. None of the text messages were answered. And finally, the hubby’s dear even advised perhaps he should sleep in the other room. She thought the flu bug would result in some unpleasantness. However, the capacitor of all those roles survived with nothing more that much work left undone. Only a few days of catch up required.

All those people are one and the same. The roles I play are not stage perfect. And the occupations that call me back to the present life are beginning to scream louder than the heavy limbs that returned me to my cot. On we go in this life of ours. The bell on the washer is ringing out for the laundry lady to rise from her slumbering ways…

Monday Mumblings

Watching “Mayo Clinic Minute: How weighted blankets “lift anxiety” on YouTube this morning, I learned all about those little sleep hormones and the feel good hug.

One week has passed since I began sleeping with my gravity blanket that we purchased a few years back. I had tried it off and on but never just in itself for a full week trial. It is pretty amazing how a full week of rested sleep changes one’s mood! It must be knocking my anxiety hormones down a bunch, because for the first time in fur-ever, Honey took a nap on my lap!

Unfortunately her “serviceability” goes way down when she senses anxiety . She feeds on it and gets more hyper! This is not very helpful to say the least. So, in spite of the fact that she is now five years old, I am going to look for a trainer that can give me the right response commands to get this crazy dog down on all fours when the her hyper kicks in.

Saturday morning my dear helper hubby found the aphids moved into the pansies that i multiplied to hundreds. We spent a few hours treating them with some nnatural remedies. They look a little tough but I will be spreading them out into some more spacious quarters today and hopefully things will go well with the proper treatments. It’s so difficult to keep on top of it all once the nasty bugs begin their residency.

This is Holy week for the Christian and Jewish populous. It is always such a special holiday for me. Both of my daughters were baptized on Easter morning during their teen years. Easter has so much triumph and hope. How can the rest of the world live without that joyous celebration? I am so glad that we are back to church gatherings and that the “pandemic” shifted to endemic and everyone is just kind of “over” all of the talk. Yes, there are some rough memories, but not gathering has to be the worst. People are meant to live in community. And not being together makes everyone so depressed and cranky.

The wind blew something fierce the end of last week, and I though all of the old anxieties would come back also. Then I found Amy Carmichael’s book “The Edges of His Ways.” Though it is a daily devotional, I listened to nearly a full month. One of her notes was about the wind. And she encouraged me to look for inspiration from the wind that the Lord blows my way. So rather than fighting the blustery forecast for another day, I took up the “inspired by” list that i could find. The first one was comforting classical compositions that were inspired by … you guessed it-The Wind! Some of the pieces I have heard before but many were new to me. So the next time that I feel overwhelmed by my circumstances, I am just going to begin with looking for inspired by… a list that helps me turn the thing around and lifts up the mood.

This morning, I uncovered the rose bush that I planted in the tire flower bed next to the greenhouse. Today is going to be another beautiful day here. Without that nasty gale to knock me over. I also went out and zip tied the wind wheel at the Hydrant flower bed to the water meter pole there. The poor wind wheel has been knocked over so many times from the westerly hurricane breezes. (And we do not have hurricanes here… just the wind.). That made me FEEL like I had really accomplished something.

Then, I spray painted the basket that I had crocheted. The dye in the wood glue had not worked entirely to color the basket green. So I emptied the black spray paint on it. The rest of the paint was used on the wire baskets in the greenhouse. I had not done anything to them since purchase. That too FELT like I was really doing something. Then I repotted the little holiday cactus starts into two beautiful red pots that I found while shopping the other night at our local wally world. They look so happy. And now they will thrive. The other containers had proved to be too small over the long haul. The little plants had been in their since Thanksgiving and I would constantly forget about them. So they were either too hot, too wet, or too dry. There you go little holiday cactus starts. And I even decided who I am giving them to as gifts. But I am not telling you.

It’s not Monday. Thank goodness. You would not have wanted to talk to me this Monday. My visit to the greenhouse found the pansy stats much worse than before. I tossed quite a number of them due to some nasty little fly of some sort. We treated them again last night at sundown so I hope there is not burn from the spray. It is just not fun growing plants to just toss them out. Part of my eyesight problem, part of the learning curve.

So here goes to a lengthy post again. Today, I hope to get a new mosaic crochet project going. My last two project attempts were a bit lacking. I did not like the outcome. Yep, I feel like I spent the whole time mumbling. But I got it all out right? And the gravity blanket is still working to help me sleep. Yay!

Bad hair day

Monday was a bad hair day for me. While today’s hair is definitely bed head, the picture fits. Waking up in a shadow mood set me up for an emotionally dead day. The battle to avoid saying the wrong thing ended with a journal entry worthy of trash.

So after fighting the head ache with all the normal things, the decision to simply go back to bed was made. Other people might not have that option. Since no one is here to stop me, back to bed it was.

Dreams about log picking or stacking are common themes in my nightmare migraine mode. Either being chased and having the paths clogged with fallen trees, or stumbling over large surface roots fill my sleep attempts. This day being chased by others with torches and forced to carry my cross beam did not make for much rest. Burned at stake, and waking up feeling tied down was common.

Just when my emotional state is most empty and the longing for some cuddly little snuggly critter overcomes me, Honey rises to the alert service dog that she is and saves my life once again. Sleeping nearly eighteen hours with a few moments of awake to eat, drink or relieve myself was a bit of a shock. More so was Honey hitting and bumping my hand with persistence to wake me up. She would not stop nosing my hand until I actually took both puffs on my inhaler. Then she would lick my hand as if to say “good” and go lay back down. She did this job three times Monday into Tuesday morning.

Dark, depression days are something like a shadow life for me. My memory of these thoughts goes all the way back to my teenage years. The battle to emerge out of these dark valleys is lifelong. The last ten years of solitude days have counted more shadow days than sunshine. Some times my emotional being is a dragonfly skimming across the surface of a ditch full of dirty water. And I wonder when the rain storm will come, causing my wings to loose their strength and I will be sucked into the swirling drain pipe and drown. I know that is not a pretty picture.

Where is my faith in all of this? Scripture and the the Bible has always been there to lift me out of the darkness. The pit of self pity and mental vomit must be cleansed by God’s word. Rising up out of myself means letting Jesus blow the healing breeze that will let my spirit soar once again. Is life to be full of these roller coasters all of my earthly journey? Must this life in which I dive and plummet nearly to destruction and then be lifted up once again be so constant? David writes in the Psalms about the downcast soul. And then he writes again “Bless the Lord, o my soul!” Oh, that my heart, soul, mind, and strength could be in the same place of worship all of the time! Faith is no magic wand. Prayer is not some magic words.

Here is the latest mosaic crochet that I have completed during this past week or two of physical, emotional, and spiritual battles. There have been a few books in the pile next to me as a crochet. And no, Honey does not sit next to me. She usually falls asleep on the othe rside of the room.

It’s “wind”-s-day again. The whistling , howling ambient sound is not pleasant and peaceful. The thoughts of others in the path of the storm does not help. My prayer list has been updated for the others list this week. Taking my mind off of myself and thinking about others helps. The refugees, the cancer survivor, the brain surgery recovery, the waiting for a kidney transplant, the sniffly nose, the coughing, the allergy sufferers, the war torn lands and people. ALL remind me that my life is relatively easy. Get out of the mire and the mud and get on with the day. Call Honey in for a hug even if she growls while I administer my own healing potion.

Isaiah 12:3. (ESV). “Therefore with joy you will draw water From the wells of salvation.” This is the promise from God’s word that I am clinging to this week. While there is no Joy is seems and I am not even sure which wells God would have me dig up, I will ONE day find joy again. He will provide for my salvation and He will be glorified in it.

And so it goes…

And so it goes.. you never expect your dog to bring back the collar that she lost over six months ago. And so, when doing the spring yard clean up, it was a pleasant surprise to find the collar that I paid 25 dollars to have her name and my phone number embroidered on. The return of the tag for vaccine info was nice also. We found a few other things that went through the roto rooter. That dog has an iron gut. I don’t thing the average dog would live after some of the things that she has ingested. We call it the typical Labrador genetics. Lab genes brings a garbage disposal to your fount yard. And most of the time it looks more like an explosion of some sort. She is such a little trash compactor and bulldozer. Thank goodness she has overcome her initial fear of the cats. when the refrigerator leftovers come out she is growling and snarling with her head in the bowl just like the other heads! EVA!!!!

And so on… Finding space in the greenhouse for all of the babies has been the latest project. I begged my hubby for some help on Sunday. And we came up with the one legged shelves to put the trays of pansies on. There are 120 clear dixie cups of pansy plants. Hoping to sell them at the local farmer’s market. And I am considering doing a donation to a local charity with the proceeds. And so on go the enjoyable tasks of watching things in the greenhouse grow.

And so forth… It took me five or six attempts to replicate a basket that I already made last year. This one did turn out swell. It was a challenge to get the beginning the same. And the handles are a little useless. Just for looks. I had an old ice cream tub to shape it on. To dry it stiff, it must be on a similar form. I love making the little baskets out of crochet. It is rather rewarding. And so from now on, I’ll just do an exact count before I try to copycat!!

And from now on…. I packed up my piano books the other day. It was bittersweet. Left out only the hymn books and a few other favorites. I have not been able to read the music because the RP has become so pinpointed. The tunnel is closing on so many of my activities. I have to study the music note by note and them memorize it for performance. My in-ability to read music makes me sad. But I have always been able to “ad lib” better on the third and fourth go around anyways. Memorizing it means the quality is there from the get go! Such slang we use in all of this gibber-gabber. And so from now on I will have to practice before the actual rehearsal. I am so thankful that my training through the years has lead me from reading, to chording to playing jazz improvisation to playing by “ear!” While I would readily admit that I can’t actually play by ear, one’s fingers must be used in response to the thought process in the mind. There still has to be some knowledge of the musicianship of piano to complete the task. So very thankful that I can still tickle the ebony and ivories!

Therefore…. While the family is all about their happenings and my life trudges on in absolute monotony, our Pastor’s sermon series on Isaiah has me buoyed up with many memories of my own studies on the great book. Here’s one of my favorite verses from the prophet found in chapter 26:4 “ Trust in the Lord forever. For in YAH the Lord is everlasting strength.” My own study notes have been misplaced, but nevertheless, the mind does recall much through the days and the nights. One night I began my own midnight worship session just considering the name of Yahweh, and the Hebrew whispering of the “Breath of God.” The Yah is spoken as an inhale something like a yawn and the Weh is whispered on the exhale. This name of the Lord is true to the Genesis account of creation in which the Lord breathes into the nostrils of man the breath of life. Our modern day common place use of the Lord’s name does not hold this intense reverence and awe in whispering the name of the Lord because it is too holy for unfit human lips to speak. If only we could hold such awe and fear of the power of our God to give life and to take life. Therefore, I will trust in the Lord forever. For indeed Yahweh (as a whisper of breath0 is indeed my strength and my song. Isaiah 12:2-3. HE alone has become my salvation.

The Silent Treatment

(Disclaimer: I do not sanction the use of coping strategies that punish oneself or another. Using aggression is not the answer. Fighting should not be a way of life.But fighting for life is a long battle. This week has been full of history making.)

When I was growing up my mother used this passive aggressive discipline technique (coping strategy) to get her children to see her way. It did not really work. The worst memory I have of this happening was the night she did not hear me say I was across the street babysitting. She used this anger management tool to keep from saying the wrong thing, though she already had. Her attempt at poetry to instill a value of trust did not work either. The two weeks following the incident were pretty rough. Being my senior year, it did not occur to me that having a message board for the family use would alleviated end the drama. Oh, well. This week my selence had an altogether different cause.

This morning I am drinking some green tea and blueberry herbal with honey. Hopefully the healing properties will help this nasty laryngitis to fly the coup. If only cold virus were so easily scattered like birds. Everyone thinks I am giving them the silent treatment. The one that suffers the most still tries to call me the most often. On the other hand, my doodle dog Honey has not barked in a couple of days because she does not know how to whisper. I think it is rather successful!

So I took my “down” time to learn a new pattern. This mosaic hat was a free video tutorial. I made the red and white first and then the reverse pattern blue second. It was satisfying to get a project done in just one day. Then after the fever began to break my voice disappeared.

February cones to a close this week. I wrote two other blogs nearly completed. I did not finish either one. Just had no conclusive thought. Story telling is not my strong suit I guess. I prefer the lesson of fables and something with a moral conclusion. Why, it seems, must I find a lesson in every thing? Willy nilly writing does not have analytical potential. Do we have to learn from everything?

I decided to makeover one of my brightest hats. I thought this pattern was a perfect fit for the bright colors. I wanted to do some mittens in the design but could only find videos of different designs. So I left these mittens because these fit so well. And so I came up with my own pattern.

All of the seedlings in the greenhouse seem to be okay. The plunge into artic air meant that the heat is on in the building. The propane tank ran empty and we have yet another day of frigid temps. I can’t believe that the temperature stays at nearly fifty degrees Fahrenheit. The full water tank, the black buckets, and the soil and plants are doing their job to keep it warm. Circulating the air kept the even feeling. I knew I should have called for service on Monday but now I have no voice and whispering does not work on a cry for help! Ha. The propane tank is full again and the weather will soon warm. Melting snow means mud. Ugh. But it also means spring is on it’s way!

Sometimes doing smaller projects makes me feel happy and fulfilled. Like I actually got something done. This week I managed to bake a turkey one day and make turkey soup and dumpling on another day. My energy level was pretty low. So I did not even go up to see my grand babies this week. I finished a mosaic shawl, and a Bavarian stitch shawl this month. Tackling a couple of small pattern ideas was next on my list. It is always fun to make new hats. And the remake was really enjoyable. Then I decided to attempt some mittens. I combined some pattern ideas and used the new mosaic stitch from the hat. Love them all. Now it’s decision time for what is next.

The final remake this week was interesting. Not sure that that I “like” this one. It’s a good thing the dumpling and soup tasted so good and helped us ride out of the week well. The yarn was a really busy “jazz” ombre and probably should have a coordinating color with it. But I used what I had. Resourceful is my middle name! And do you know how hard it is to do the same thing twice? Really hard apparently. I had two attempts at this one. I wrote down the mitten specs, but the second pair are a little smaller. Not as happy with the configuration. I prefer the look of the red and blue. It could just be the busy yarn. Oh, well!

I made it through my “sick” week. Fever for a few days and the laryngitis thing. Seems like any cold I get ends up in my throat of voice box. Gargling with salt water was the cure. And lots of tea with honey. We finally got some moisture with this bitter cold. Stuck inside while it is so cold outside was not so bad. The snow is such a welcome sight. I went out with the dogs and played frisbee in the fluffy stuff this afternoon. And yes, the mittens and hat worked quite nicely.

Stitches of Prayer

Numbers 6:24-26 “the Lord bless you and keep you/ The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you:The Lord lift up His continuance upon you And give you peace.” In other words, May God smile at you and may His gaze upon you bring Him joy1

More than a walk in the garden with the birds singing, and the gentle breeze catching a piece of my hair. Each project that I crochet has a rythm of prayer to it. The familiar song has the words, “I come to the garden alone…”. My crochet time is gernerally speaking my quiet time.

My plans for a crochet group / club in my area fell by the wayside when covid hist. I really was thinking that last yearwould be my year to start something new. Well, more than ever before, my alone time just simply escalated. So the prayer/crochet club was going to have to be tabled for a while.

Not just getting by on a stitch in a prayer life for me has got to have purpose. Every project that I do usually has a person on the other side of it. I pray for them, and want to give the item away with the knowledge that this person was covered in prayer long before the item arrived in their hands. It gives me peace to focus on prayer through all the stitches.

Praying through the projects sometimes involves a Bible passage in mind, other times it is just Spirit led. And on those rough days for me, a read aloud book keeps me going and the prayers often interrupt the book more than phone calls.

This waffle stitch baby blanket began before I knew that or we knew that grand baby number three was on the way. I had some yarn that I struggled with what to do. When the hook matched up to the stitch and the size of the thread, this stitch was the perfect combination. Needless to say, I did not have enough yarn to finish the concept. But the blanket is looking so lovely. And a November baby needs a nice warm cozy blanket, right?

“Stitches of Prayer“ is the name of the group that I would like to start. If you crochet with prayer filled purpose, let me know. If you live in my area and want to share your love of the craft with me let me know that too. If you want to join me once a month for a focus Bible study on the concept of “prayer projects” let me know that too. The first person that I am studying is Esther.

The above projects are all recent ones. My second attempt at the apache tear pattern mobias praer shawl worked out well. The size on a mobias is so hard to get right. The next stitch is a new one for me. The Bavarian box stitch turned out lovely but I need another cake of the caron yarn to finish. I took a break from the normal items to try my hand at a basket. The idea is to find some cheaper threads and make some cement pots for planters this spring during my early garden time. We’ll see if that happens. And the latest project is a new pattern that I actually bought the day that it came out for purchase! The “Ellas Gem” by BebaBlanket is so addictive. I think there is another writing brewing on addictive crochet habit.

Prayer is vital in my life. The last week and a half, I decided to give up coffee. The first few days were rather rough. Just drinking water my headache clearly screamed for caffeine. I felt that I was so addicted to the coffee drive that I was not even sleeping at night. Giving up coffee is hard for me. I actually love the taste. But I knew that my ability to function during the day was getting poor. Sleep is primary. The body must have rest. And my body had finally screamed loud enough for me to say no more coffee.

Ten days into the fasting from black liquid, I am much more clear of mind. My writing has been boosted by day time activity that I was unable to accomplish before. Wow! Sleep does matter. The only caffeine that I take in is in minor chocolate pieces, and some green tea or oolong tea. Both of these teas are considered body cleansers. And water is my new friend. (P.S. apparently coffee was not my sleep problem. I am doing some psychology study and find that “rumination anxiety” is a big problem for me. Learning scripture meditation and memorization of Psalms again is helping. But I am limiting my coffee intake yet.)

Meanwhile, I am going to put out the invitations to the stitches of prayer hopefuls. Feel free to check out my contact info or comment directly on this post.

Winter garden

This little snow lady is my most recent “snowman” in my collection. Usually the the little snowball people go on my piano top. This year I only put out my favorite ones. The Less seemed best in these days of living big in my small hallway house! I have been living in a “small” house for two decades. It makes one choosey about our collections.

After painting the living room and hallway a white color and discovering the ceiling also needed a fresh coat of paint, my love for the “white” in my life is showing up everywhere. I finally unpacked my white milk glass collection and put it back on top of the kitchen cabinets. As mauch as I like the little snowman, I am not the first to go out and build a cold icy wet one when the opportunity arrives. The cold air is just not so fun anymore.

So… This little “garden” loving figure was the perfect gift from my daughter for the holidays. (Even though technically it came after the holidays were over.). I am really going to enjoy the little figure with it’s air plant this year.

Winter gardening for the most part involves house plants, seed planning, and dreaming about spring and summer. Rooting our geraniums in the greenhouse and constantly monitoring the temperature is also on the daily to do!

Meanwhile, we studied up the best option for a physically fit piece of exercise equipment for out small house. Both of us managed about five minutes on the rowing machine the first day! I was up to ten minutes on the second day with a well rested body. We shall see how many videos on YouTube actually keep me fit this year. I’ll probably have my favorite “house plant tour” video memorized soon. Haha.

Monday, Wednesday and Friday are going to be my official work days in the Greenhouse. If I can just keep my focus and my lists and the plans going, there should be plenty to “share” with family and friends of the growing dome. Today, I managed to get three hours in before my asthma got the better of me. Yesterday, I had to apologize to my asthma control specialist. Honey was so sticky and annoying Sunday morning while I was trying to get ready for the day. I actually got angry with her at one point. Then, the true nausea and shortness of breath kicked in and my Honey doodle would not give up the nudging. She was right. She actually nudged my hand three or four times even while I did the inhaler. “Thanks, good girl. You are the best!”

The oregano received a new home. There are three little four inch pots to “share.” And the beds all received a bit of clean up as I prepare for new planting and the seed starting trays. The Baby Sun Rose is looking about ready for it’s haircut. This lovely spiller works great in the planter displays.

And of course what is a trip to the greenhouse in the winter time without a little time to “enjoy the roses?” These pink geraniums are the joy of my work day. The soft pink seed geranium that I picked up on clearance are looking awesome. I think there are ten total. The Blush pink is the mother plant to a dozen new cloned babies. And the Bright Coral plant is a mother also. I can’t remember how many babies I have from that one. I am so grateful to my mother plant donors for the joy of working with these lovely flowers.

And finally, I am trying to finish up a new stitch shawl. The Bavarian Box Stitch is my latest know-how. And it has been rather fun to learn something new. Of course every stitch is done with prayer and someday I will finally get to start that club. “Stitches with prayer” is a dream of mine. One day…

Talking about love, love, love

My temperature blanket is finally taking shape! The idea sown last January is coming to fruition. Each month is represented by one square. The chosen colors are based on the temperature high and low for the month. Then the set of seasons are put together with the rising and falling temperature. Each season is put together by the weather that becomes them.

The whole blanket may or may not have a border. That has not been decided yet by the amount of left over yarn from the original skeins of color. I am excited to have cold enough weather to actually continue this project.

Talking about the weather is pretty much what begins every conversation in my life here in the Dakotas. The wind, the cold, the sunshine or the lack of moisture proceeds all other topics. While some people are oblivious to the weather, some of us have pets that require attention outdoors rain or shine.

Those people that show up at the day job in shorts and end up having to go home at break to change…. I don’t understand them. Every day of my life is decided by what the weather is today or tonight. The temperature tells me just what to wear. How to dress in this blustery unforgiving windy cold is very important if I want to feel my fingers the rest of the morning!

Well that’s enough about the weather, Now, How are you? The next topic of conversations might just involve who suffers from the most pain , you or the person you are talking to…. But even that is not a conversation that will last real long.

What is new? Yep, that the next headline. In my life it usually means some flower that is blooming. Here are some examples below. The Holiday cactus has decided the holidays should begin a week earlier this year. I forgot that by painting the living room and hallway, the cycle would be sped up nearly one week. The poor plant sat in the library for nearly five days before it returned to its prominent location in the south front window. The canna in the greenhouse finally recovered from it’s move to the indoor location. And these beautiful winter bloom begonias were a recent find at wally’s world.

This week we get back to the blanket and perhaps some Christmas ideas. I am not much of a crafter. The hot glue usually burns my fingers more than it sticks objects together. So minimal painting or such is my plan. Though giving plants is easier, not everyone want to take care of plant babies. Oh, and this next month will be full of plant seeding and seed starts! Oh, how spring shoots forth hope in my being. (Hope springs eternal?)

November is nearly to a close. We were blessed with sharing flowers to a few loved ones around Thanksgiving. And I found a gorgeous poinsettia to give to an elderly friend who turns 93 this week. Perhaps my passion for plants and flowers will help me spread a little holiday cheer this year!

10,950 days

And What of the Nights, my Love?

Every day, Every hour, How do we count the ways?

Only one love for me, but all 12 months, all 52 weeks and all 365 days for the past 31 years, I have been his, and he has been mine.

All twelve month squares are done for my temperature blanket. I started putting them together, and then we went to the eye doctor. I left my readers to get new lens, and unfortunately the lab broke my frames. I am kind of grumpy about the whole thing. I had that gut feeling that I should just buy new frames since mine were three years old. But my mother has had the same frames for the past 10 years. Surely, mine were not very old. Ugly thoughts. But I will keep my writing sane.

How do I count the days, my Dear? And what of the nights, my Love? We will never tell, my Sweetheart. We will never tell.

Am I to consult the stars? Or the sand? Could I count the raindrops? How can I tell others how much I love thee? Shall the hours apart take you from my heart?

Oh, my love, my one and only ever love

The fifth song on the CD is dedicated to my Only Love. Written during the poetic year of engagement, it is the melodic theme of our romance. How do I talk about the one who holds such sway on my being?

Ten thousand nine hundred and fifty days of wedded bliss will soon be ours. I though 25 was a special year. Maybe for the significance of our children going off into the sanctimony themselves, but thirty? How do you some up thirty years with no less words than the days we have spent together? It seems so impossible.

Think of holding hands for nearly 31 years. The first date ended in the hours of darkness. The advantage of blindness meant holding hands on the very first date. It’s like we never let go.

Once upon a time, my first daughter was in conversation with one of her elder professors at college. He attested to the fact that her parents were so cute always holding hands. She stated in matter of factness, “Well, it’s because my mom is blind.” The gentleman protested her bluntness. She continued in factual manner. “No it’s true. She can’t see in the peripheral, so he holds her hand., That saves her from getting lost.” Honestly, my husband would rather she replied, “Oh, but he rather likes holding her hand.”

Nah, kids will be kids. They never look at the romance involved with their parents. Until their time comes, romance is disgusting. Holding hands does keep me from tripping, or otherwise loosing my way!

This is why we don’t marry our brothers. One time I went to a hospital visit with my brother to see my uncle. At one point in the maze of hospital halls there was a split. I went one way and my brother went the other. He was not into holding my hand I guess. He did come back to get me though. At a later date, I was with my youngest brother to the zoo with his family. He had no problem holding my hand. I was very grateful for the face saving gesture. And there have been a couple of times at night that my son-in-law has had to grab my hand to keep me from finding a pole in the dark of the night. Thanks! But all the same, I rather like having my husband help me.

How can you remove the cream from the coffee? Especially after the beverage has already been processed? Once the black turns cafe latte, it is not going back. Creamed soda could never return to its seltzer water and syrup. Once the two have blended they are unchangeable, completely integrated and the fizz though it return to air, cannot take with it the taste. Thoughts of the worst soda ever that I tasted remains in my memory. One of the children’s medicine bottle, the bitterness of illness and happiness of recovery exist altogether as one.

Here are the first three months of the year in a quilt strip. January, February and March are put together with a mosaic triangle pattern. I decided to use a more contrasting color scheme because the ones close in ….. are hard to see. Making it easy on the eyes makes the project fun rather than a chore.

March is nearly half past. Like an hour at thirty minutes, it seems the time goes by too quickly. The herbs are up. And some are ready to go into the next size pot. Some were a fail and needed to be resown. Today is St. Patrick’s Day. It seems a good time of year to sow something green! So I will probably spread some more grass seed out in the dry patches from last fall.

Recently, my second daughter purposely misquoted a familiar statement.

“Spice is the variety of life!”

I decided that it is probably a better motto than the real quote. Sometimes it feels like life is so full, you can hardly stand up. Other times, life feels incomplete and missing much. While considering this song on the CD I decided that one other little story ought to be told.

When we were still in our honeymoon phase, our kitchen spice cabinet had five spices. Salt, pepper, garlic, onion, and cinnamon. I really had not had my own kitchen up until that point, so spice variety was not something that I knew. My mother-in-law laughed at me to see such a simple palette of spices. Now, years later, I have more spices that she does. And much of what I cook with regularly, I grow. I cannot imagine cooking without parsley, oregano, cilantro, or marjoram. And the benefits of cumin, turmeric, and ginger are not lost on my cooking. And who would have though that nutmeg goes in meats?

Anyways, spice is the variety of life! And Spice must surely add variety into our lives. Even though we do not cook meals as often as we use to, spices are still a big part of our kitchen experience. It is pretty difficult to remove too much pepper out of the meatballs also. That day was a migraine day for me and who would expect a six year old to read the recipe properly. My husband was the lifesaver once again and took us to the drive inn for hotdogs that night. The many experiences that we learned from in life keep us together.

I am so glad that the rough patches were just a little sandpaper to smooth the surfaces. The many woodworking projects that we have done through the years have taught me that also. Not only have we done life together, we enjoy it. You can’t compress 30 years into one blog any more that one tree with all of its memories can be just a wooden table. That project is still waiting to be completed.

So now you know. We enjoy being married. We recommend it. And 10,950 days went by so fast that it seems like only just yesterday we were posing out behind the church for our pictures! We smiled so much that day that our cheeks muscles hurt. Haha!