Had coyotes outside my room at 415, at least half a dozen, singing their hearts out.
I have to feed animals soon, picking tomato plants and sunflowers up today in Montgomery.
Will be a quiet 2 weeks here for several reasons, but I have plenty to keep me busy.
Garden getting tilled Thursday, God-willing
Hoping to pull an old rusty wheelbarrow to the front yard today to create an herb garden for the year in it.
Have 2 dozen eggs in the incubator due to hatch the 1st of April
Needing to move some of the chicken coops and pens towards the fence line in coming days, hopefully can be done without a lot of damage , need to fix the nesting box door on one of the coops as it’s currently non functional (kept falling off, ended up screwing it on as solid fixture temporarily).
Needing to get new leashes and collars for the dogs for summer walks.
I went to bed and slept decently early last night but got texts at 11:13 and again at 1:27 that woke me fully.
He’s gone to bed and asleep now (I think 🤷♀️) and here I am wide awake a full hour after he’s excused himself.
Just got up and made 3 fresh pitchers of tea for the day, unloaded the dishwasher and put it away, and checked the laundry and reset the dryer (it never takes less than 2 cycles to dry)
Not sure what the day ahead holds for me. So going to try to go back to sleep until time to feed animals and fold laundry.
I’m a little ahead of chores this morning, have to go out to feed the animals in a few, but currently I’m sat in my kitchen floor eating 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a mug of milk.
The kitchen floor is my favorite place these days…I can’t tell you why. I like sitting here and eating or reading; it’s a comfortable place for me.
Pb&j’s are a favorite for me too recently, and funnily enough, I really like them with a cup of milk…plain white milk…the beverage I have seen with disdain my entire life I finally embrace in this, my fiftieth trip around the sun
Ive always been willing to drink chocolate, strawberry or honey milk but white milk has always been one that caused my nose to wrinkle and my tummy to instantly turn, it just wasn’t a good thing for me.
Anyway, I’ve bored you enough for the day with my ramblings.
Not sure what exactly compels me to want to write this one out, but I do feel like I want to write it out this morning.
About the time I was 13 or 14, I believe, my grandmother, scratch that, my step grandmother made me an Easter dress, she added crinoline to a secondhand dress, the secondhand factor was something I was used to growing up, however, this Easter dress in particular sticks out to me, because it was red with white polkadots. It would’ve reminded you of Minnie Mouse’s dress somewhat.
I rejected this dress in my mind at the time, all of my dresses, growing up for Easter, had been passed out and very light and felt like spring, there was nothing about this dress, that made me think Easter, or even spring. My mom did not get me another Easter dress this year. Grandma had made this for me, it was clear I was expected to wear this for Easter. It was Garish and did not fit in at all. So it made me unhappy.
Fast forward to nearly 30 years later, I’m now orthodox Christian, and is not an uncommon colour during the Easter season at church. Red represents the blood of Christ, and red is not a Garish unwelcome colour to me anymore, When I decide on what I’m wearing to church during Easter Sunday, which is called Pascha in orthodoxy, I often sing back to this red and one dress reluctantly wore so many years ago.
Eleftherios, my sweet orange tabby, has been in our lives for six years now, he’s always been a bit of a love bug and a cuddler. He is a perpetual kitten and is always very much wanting to be on my lap or under a blanket or whatever.
He used to be a more of a biter, with hard love bites whenever you went to go into another room. He does that less these days but he’s still just as lovey and always wants to be near.
He’s sat in my lap right now as I write this, seems hes always in my lap.
Not sure why I wanted to write on him, just felt I wanted to share my baby with the world.
The first week we brought him home Feb of 2018Last night in my romperThis morning
It’s been a quiet morning with much chaos…I did my normal chores and looked for the title certificate for my Land Rover that’s been sitting for 3 years as a guy is buying it to try to fix it back up to running condition. Left water running in kitchen sink and flooded the kitchen and laundry room to the tune of maybe 45 towels, made extra laundry for myself. Pizza for the kids tonight as I have dance class in Montgomery (Greek dance, which I am, by the way, horrible at).
I may stop to see B, the guy I’m seeing, on my way home tonight, may grab dinner while there and head home.
Guy buying the Land Rover is coming after dance to try to disconnect the drive shaft to ready it for towing.
Lots of thoughts bopping around in my head today, friend of mine this morning opened my eyes to my own negative thoughts and behaviors that I need to try to address, I’m grateful when short little phone calls cause me new awareness of self. Funnily enough he was talking about his own behaviors and faults when they clicked in my head.
I’m impatient…my dating situation is actually very good for me, he’s a very very kind man and when I said it wasn’t anything you’d write a love story about…maybe I need to look at what makes a good love story a little differently. I need to learn patience because we live in a world where everyone expects everyone else to be ‘on’ and available 24-7…we’re not supposed to be that way.
For now, I’ll be happy with the gentle hugs and the forehead kisses and all the quiet sweetness that goes with him…as well as all the other things that make our relationship. I will learn patience and appreciate what’s in front of me…and I will be there for him as long as he wants me in his life. Meanwhile, I will learn to enjoy my own company more in the downtimes when he’s not talking, I’ll learn not to worry or assume I know why he’s quiet when he’s quiet, I’ll spend my time constructively and not destructively-mentally, emotionally or otherwise.
My brethren, do not hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with partiality.† For if there should come into your assembly a man with gold rings, in fine apparel, and there should also come in a poor man in filthy clothes, and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes and say to him, “You sit here in a good place,” and say to the poor man, “You stand there,” or, “Sit here at my footstool,” have you not shown partiality among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts? Listen, my beloved brethren: Has God not chosen the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promised to those who love Him?† But you have dishonored the poor man. Do not the rich oppress you and drag you into the courts? Do they not blaspheme that noble name by which you are called? If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you do well;† but if you show partiality, you commit sin, and are convicted by the law as transgressors. (James 2:1-9, OSB)
This came up in my daily readings this week.
Ironically, I started going back to church after my husband died, because I felt I needed the fellowship in my life. I also pursued dance class at the same time, taught by a parishioner of my same church.
I don’t fit in either place it seems, though I was excited and eager to be both places, I don’t quite seem ‘good enough’ in either place. Dance class made me feel inept and the instructor cancelled further leasons after just one, citing lack of interest. He restarted them 3 months later but I didn’t bother because of how the initial experience felt to me.
After church, when people gather for fellowship, I end up mostly sitting alone at a table, most already have their people they talk regularly to…I’m simply not one of them and after several weeks, I still wasn’t any closer to being…and I did try.
I don’t tend to have a negative outlook on life or a victim personality…but I’m feeling a little down with regards to these things.
No real reason, just wasn’t exactly feeling inspired I suppose. I am still reading daily and my routine and life haven’t changed much at all.
It’s wet in my part of Alabama, not raining…at the moment but the wetness from the few days we got still hasn’t abated.
I’m sat in my yard, in my favourite chair, I’ve spent a bit of time with my bare feet on the wet mushy ground, the cold wetness hugging my feet as I ‘ground’ myself. I’m listening to Redbirds chirping and the sound of an extremely distant delivery truck backing up and a dog barking half a mile away. The breeze rustles the dead leaves in the trees above me and the ferns clinging to the branches of the tree to my left, and the hairs on my arm which are stood on end because of the briskness of the air. There is a plane somewhere in the distance, an old bomber by the sounds of it, ambling its way invisibly along the horizon. My chickens have finally decided the hawks overhead are a threat, perhaps…or perhaps someone has simply laid a late afternoon egg and has shared the joy with half my flock…who knows?
It’s February, the month I lost my sweetheart, piece at a time. A year ago today we had chemo at some point, I drove him 5 days a week until the unfortunate surgery that started the torturous week and a half until his death. Can’t tell you anything we talked about, can tell you usually he was drained on way home and slept, can also tell you we often had to stop to take over a public restroom. He wasn’t eating much, if at all by this point. I was sad because it felt like he’d already checked out somewhat. He was trying but I don’t think it was himself he was trying for. I miss him, but I’m sad he went through as much as he did, if it was only on my behalf.
I digress, I am at a loss on what more to write at this time.
Puddle Jumping with Pandora's Box 