from rural West Tenn.
and simply living
This weekend is filled with joy and sunshine. Our move completed by day’s end Friday all tasks ahead seem lightweight by comparison.
Oh there is a creosote post to place, some wire to tighten, contents of plastic containers to sort, writing, photography and advertisers to obtain to sustain us.
Most importantly all 18 pals are safe and becoming acquainted with their new surroundings.
Life is simple, and we are simply living.
Thanks to you, God, for peace now.
with it near 40 degrees
Today I began picking up debris left through the years by previous tenants. There were rusty tin cans, plastic containers and wrap, beer cans and bottles. Yet most ominous were the shards of glass, pieces of canning jars with jagged edges sticking up out of the dirt that could cut a hoof or worse.
In all I retrieved three feed bags full of garbage cleared from less than an acre of the back five where my large pals will be. Already I can see this is going to be a project.
or was it
In the morning there was just a hint of its arrival. Scarce, icy droplets glanced off and melted before hitting the ground.
By mid-day the drops turned to flakes floating through the air, and amateur forecasters said there would be no accumulation.
As the temperature dropped one layer carpeted, then two. Well after dusk it was still falling.
At 29 days newly named tiger stripe kittens Mimi and Ty are everywhere underfoot. They also squawk like baby birds when I enter their room. Not as wobbly in their gate as they once were now they climb on my feet, sniffing and pawing at my ankles. And, they are not as sedate with each other—playing tug-of-war, nipping and grabbing each other’s tails as well as their mother’s when she walks by them.
Although Mimi was the first to be curious about me, Ty was the first to find additional food as a supplement to mother’s milk. A couple of days ago Ty began helping himself to Nikki’s food.
When they are finished playing Mimi and Ty settle in for a nap.
then reflects light
Given a long stemmed red rose Sunday I placed it in a vase on the stove. Each morning when I pour a cup of coffee my friend the rose greets me. So thirsty when first placed in water, one petal that drooped returned to hug the bud.
Throughout each day I have watched how the rose changes. Yesterday morning it was beginning to open and did so fully by evening. Glancing now at the rose which is rich and full, I am reminded of how fleeting and precious life is.
In my youth there was no time, or so I thought, to relax, open and be. Then I read Barry Stevens’ Don’t Push the River and others. Living in the present happened as flashes of light like a frog jumping from one lily pad to the next. Each landing brought a glimmer, another realization.
Only now do I savor each moment, each breath, all the joy, all the challenges and the mystery unfolding before me like the rose.
and definitely not the Siddhartha of Hermann Hesse
Sid, the wanderer, just appeared one day with tail wagging at a gated area beside the house. Asking around, I was not able to find his owner. Sid has the build, the color and the markings of an Australian cattle dog which seems appropriate for our farm.
Friendly and eager to please, he has one annoying habit that could be the reason he ended up fending for himself out in the country. Sid thinks jumping up on people and horses will endear him. To the contrary, this is a habit we have been working to dissuade for the better part of a year.
Jack, the Palomino paint who shares space with the canines when they come out for their constitutional, has taken an interest in Sid and one other canine named Sam. To my surprise Sid will lie on his back in complete surrender or sit perfectly still while Jack sniffs or licks him.
Fed grain directly on the back porch since he tips over his dish, Jack usually misses some pellets before beginning to consume hay. Once Sid hits the back yard his first stop is the porch. Leaving the hay Jack returns alongside his pal to find a few more morsels.