Zitkala-Sa.

Zitkala-Sa.

 

American Indian Stories and Old Indian Legends is a book by an Indian woman who was taken from her mother when she was eight years old. She learned English and reading and became a scholar in the ways of that era. The print is so small that it takes a bit of concentration just to stay with the reading. But even so, the way that the child became a young woman in a mixed society leaves a path of pain for the reader. From running free and being loved, she went into a world of restraint and mockery. What the white men did to starve her people and to take away their way of life—well, if you have ever read anything about the Trail of Tears or the reservation systems, you know how totally unfair and inhumane was their treatment by greedy white men. Anyway, that has been some of my reading today.

 

The heat during the middle of the day is absolutely painful. Only a bit of shade can help at all because the wind is more like a blow torch. God help us get through this drought.

 

One of my grandsons managed to hit the tip of his finger with a hammer yesterday and break the very tip. Ouch. Told him hammers are not meant to smack fingers. Don’t think he found my comment amusing, but he still went to work today. Gutsy kid.

 

Other than running the dust mop over and around the living room, that is all that amounts to the “work” of my day. Simply have not felt all that great. Maybe it will get cool soon and enable us to breathe some fresh, non-flammable air. Allergies in this mess are drying out the air to the point that it almost hurts to take a deep breath.

 

The dogs have been on their usual track of asking for treats or just irritating each other by taking each other’s toys. And then one or the other will get near me and “wash” my legs with their tongues. Salt? Or something. Guess it is just their way of taking care of me.

 

Really have nothing much to say tonight. The joints are all giving me fits for some reason—and those are the bone joints, not any other kind. No eggs today, so just gave the girls a little bowl of those grub things. Put those inside the little chicken house where the doves won’t go. Wonder if putting their feed inside that house would prevent the waste of chicken feed. Hmmm.

 

Will suggest that we are so blessed despite the heat and lack of rain. Will be so glad to see grass coming out sometime this fall or winter. Don’t even care if it gets knee high if it is good and green. Not sure anything around here would make hay, but it is possible!

 

Pray for peace and for our nation. Let us remember those in other lands who are even more troubled than those in our own nation. May God guide us and bring us back to Him.

 

Rest and let your spirit relax in God’s peace. You are loved.