Oh joy! The sun is shining! Walked out and pulled up an old screen door that was on the old cellar door so the dogs could have a "salad" of grass. Not sure if the hens have tried any yet, but both dogs ate a bate. And tiny little blades of grass are coming up in the back yard. Yay!
Went over to the Smith's farm this morning to pick up some lettuce leaves, squishy tomatoes, a yucky cantaloupe, and assorted stuff the hens would eat. They ate the tomatoes first. Think they even had a squabble over those! Then they ate the cantaloupe--or most of it. Anyway, they are happy campers. Did not even see Nikki, Stephen, the boys or Cindy Jones, but SO appreciate the fact that they go get this mess for our critters. Some of it is good enough for people, too.
Went out and put down 50 stakes around the fence. Might could have used a few more stakes, but what stakes were needed most got pounded into the ground. Hoping the fence is a bit more secure now. The only hard part was getting up and down when moving from one section to the other. Got kinda muddy, but both the pants and the body will wash.
Got a call from Connie earlier. She was crying. She and Rebekah had gone to the bank and then to the hospital. Rebekah is so very depressed and hardly wants to live. All Connie can do is listen, try to suggest things, and pray. Please pray for both of them. Rebekah has no idea what is wrong with her, but thinks she has something that is causing her to be sick constantly. She is pretty paranoid as well. Connie is supposed to return on February 7, so we can hope that by then the doctors will either listen to Rebekah or admit her to a psychiatric hospital. Either way, right now prayer is about the only hope for the situation. Really feel for Connie. Know how hopeless it is to try to help someone who can't seem to think straight.
Have six dozen eggs sitting out on the bench ready for Dr. Blackwell's nurse Jennifer to pick them up. Going to have to see if Cari Guidry's phone number is in any of my address books. Have tried to contact her, but she does not necessarily answer messages. Think about six hens could easily go to her house if she wants them. But we will see if she ever got her chicken coop made first.
The back yard is so muddy and wet. Less than 1/2 inch of rain, but it must have really soaked into the ground. It is supposed to be cold at night for a few nights while the sun is to shine in the daytime. Then rain again on Saturday. Oh well. Jennifer asked me if we got hail last night. If we did, the old woman slept through it. Actually a good night's sleep!
Put some beet seeds out a bit ago. It makes me smile to think that they may actually come up where they were sown. The ground there has been planted in iris, but the place is perfect for beets as well. We will see. Still have not put out the poppy seeds, but maybe tomorrow. Only so much energy per day, ya know. And tomorrow have to go by the pharmacy to pick up the Gabapentin to keep me from being so danged sore. It seems to work pretty well. But think that being able to use the water hose instead of hauling water from the kitchen sink will help just as much as the drug. Just you wait and see if we don't get a water line dug and laid to the hen house this spring!
Got some laundry done already this morning and the living room floor dust mopped. Took two pair of pants and two long-sleeved blouses from the washer in knots! How that happens is beyond me! Had to untangle them just to put them in the dryer. Oh well. At least the rest of the laundry was not tied in knots--towels, socks, and undies. They are already folded and put away, too.
Started reading a book about the Maccabees. This is the second book. Know the outcome, but it is still interesting reading. It is something to know that you are outnumbered, out gunned, and otherwise not likely to live through the situation, but it reminds me of the men at the Alamo--they died for what they believed in. With the Maccabees, they were going to be killed off in ones, twos, or dozens, but the outcome would never be changed except that they could fight back as a group. It is not much different really than the American Revolution. Standing up for our beliefs will still get a person killed, but lying down and not saying a word is hardly living. The powers that fought the Maccabees wanted to take away their faith, their ability to honor God, and to take everything they could grow or make. That is really not living. That is slavery and dishonor--humiliation and degradation. The sabbath hasn't changed; God hasn't changed. Man just does not want to accept God's laws or even how Christ showed men to love one another. Sad.
Ok, thinking about mindfulness: Whose voice do you hear in your head? Have you even listened to that voice? Some say that mindfulness is being AWARE of the moment and how it affects you. It is not our job to judge what is around us, but simply know that things are there, that we can choose to be in contact with those things with our senses. This morning, while the old woman was still getting dressed, a wren carried on a long song of happiness to greet the day. The joy made me aware of how the happiness affected me in that moment. It made me smile and realize that despite not seeing the bird, it had made me happy with its chorus to the day. Later the sun shone into the living room to warm up a lazy dog. She yawned and made a silly noise. It made me happy to hear her and see the comfort she gained from that sunshine. The bird's singing, the dog's yawn, the light's warmth--these are just part of the awareness that goes on in our minds. But we still need to listen for our own voice--how we respond to these stimuli also includes our inner voice. Sometimes these are the times that we can tell God how much we appreciate things. Sometimes it is enough to know that all the messages our body receives are being re-percolated through our attitude. We can't always choose the attitude because pain is pretty much with us in one form or another for all of our lives. But if we listen to that voice in our heads, to the spirit that we have been given by the Creator, we can adjust our feelings, our perceptions, more easily. When my husband's voice was with me so much after he died, it was hard to listen to what mattered to me. It took a bit to begin to adjust to just listening to those little sounds of my voice--the one that truly belonged to me. Now it is my voice in my head. And although the children and friends matter to me so very much, it is obvious that each minute is mine first. How that minute is used is my choice. Yep, mindfulness is listening to one's voice and knowing that neither the wind outside, the noises from around one, or the distractions of the world matter as much as being sensitive to one's own needs for a sound spirit.
Have just now had a boiled egg and hamburger for din-upper. Going to go read my book and enjoy the rest of this day. May you all stay healthy and happy. You are loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment