The threats must be working, because Honey has been sitting on my lap for a spell first thing most mornings. A couple of weeks ago my alone-life was driving me to the puppy stores. So I began looking. Looking at Border Terriers, Rescue puppies, and Shih Tzus. I keep telling her that if she doesn’t take to cuddling some, I will find one that will. They are all empty threats until I actually took a call from on of my soft inquiries. Soft, literally.
The “craving” for a cuddle – bug- dog was getting pretty rough. Ruff, ruff. I actually saw a little Shih Tzu in town one day and spend a few minutes purring over the soft fluff. I asked all kinds of polite questions and found the little gal to be quite nice.
Home I went to do my idle threats. I looked, and searched, and found several local puppy breeders. Just empty threats
Like my mother’s threat to break my plate when I left home. Really? It’s probably why my dad’s graduation gift to us was luggage not the furniture in our bedroom. I tried to beat my mother to it. One day while unloading dishes from the dishwasher, I broke six plates all at once by catching my elbow on something and dropping them back down into the dishwasher. I broke a lot of things while a teenager because of ny hasty activities. The chandelier glasses were no match to the table leaves. The stairwell window was no match to my speed in rounding the corner and my shoulder. I don’t know why parents of my era said such mean things like threats to break plates, but it felt like rather than helping us to fly out of the nest, I was being pushed out of the nest by them cutting the tree down.
So here I sit in the background of all my daily activities, wondering what on earth I would want more chores for. My life is pretty peaceful right now. The garden will require more energy soon, I tell myself. Enjoy the lull before the storm. (Really, I ought to try to sell some of this crochet stuff.)
So I began an easy C2C again. This time it is the gingham pattern and it will have a smaller scale checked border. I have seen the pictures several times and really wanted to do this. So now that I have some yarn stash on hand, I was able to put together the three tiered color scheme. I do love how easy this patter is to crochet and it keeps my fingers occupied while i listen to books.
We found another movie worth mentioning last night. It is the life of Beatrix Potter. I had forgotten that I actually had the tales that she wrote in my audible books library for the little kiddos when I am with them. Lots of tales of things with tails. All sorts of childish imagings and critters with clothes! So I took some time to listen to some of her wonderings.
Toddlers are pleasant things to display cuteness. It’s the hungry, tired, or cranky child that drives mothers mad. Their little minds are so busy with thoughts and feelings. I wonder at times that I ever really grew up. It is so enjoyable to pick their little brains and prick their imagination.
The greenhouse is a maintenance mode right now. I learning that certain size containers are on a Monday-Wednesday-Friday water schedule. The rest of the house is once a week depending on the sunshine and the heat. Some days it can get up to eighty degrees in there. I don’t like working in there when it is too hot. the other day this little pink geranium greeted me. I am so glad most of the cuttings have taken root. I lost so many to water rot that I had to switch tactics and root many in direct soil.
Miss Potter‘s success during her era has really inspired me to keep writing. I love movies’s and books about writers. Though we have hit the garbage pail a few times on the ‘writer’s death mystery’ movies. Those will just have to stay a mystery. Not enjoyable at all. Sorry for the suspense and thriller films.
Meanwhile, I let not my own little wishes be a constant temptation. Solitary confinement has a way of reflecting the inner sanctum. Why does spending so much time alone seems to muddy the mirror? So I went back to the Hearts of Fire entries and listened to the story of Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand. They are the founders of voice of the martys publishing. What an inspiring story of faithfulness and fidelity. I suddenly feel so very insignificant and small.g
I John 3:3, “And everyone who thus hopes in Christ Jesus purifies oneself as He is pure.” And so I began where I best, by cleaning the house that I live in. The boxes and such need to be removed I told myself. They are empty and are no longer needed. Their purpose fulfilled by carrying some forgotten shipment, I stacked them all to carry out to the dumpster. I went back in to check the room for any more stray objects and found the wall with my head.
A day later, my brain fog and dull headache are still ailing me. Why must I hit my head every time that I try to clean house? Because my eyes get tired and fail to sweep the projected travel plans for oncoming traffic. Ugh. I actually ended up falling asleep early last night, and my husband did his version of cleaning. (He cleans with disinfectants and solubles that make the air smell fresh. However, mush of the out of place items are left for me to put away or dispose of-not complaining.)
Last time I went to the chiropractor for an adjustment I decided it was harly worth it to feel better, for then I usually hit my head, run into a half open door, or fall. Thus, misadjusting the previous betterment. Why bother? Here’s to purifying the smudged mirror.