At War

~ back porch wood rack ~

This post is going to be, somewhat, free of photos. Due to the physically demanding couple of weeks I've had, my back and nether regions are in spasms due to pulled muscles. Using the camera requires more energy and effort than I can bring to the task right now.

Mercy, it's time again for Patrice, Everyday Ruralty, and her questions. I swan, between Patrice and her questions and Wendell and his carrots, it seems time spills over completely into life.

1. What is your favorite kind of bread? Either sourdough or my own bird seed bread; not sure which but both are delicious and wonderfully good for what ails you.

2. Would you go to an opera...? At one time in my life, I held season tickets...I adore opera but only if there are subtitles. I want to adore opera, not work at opera. See, I really did have a life before the farm. (smile)

3. What is your favorite kind of citrus fruit? Kiwi in hand but love orange in juice.

4. Are you doing any home renovations or decorating projects? Just advertised for someone to clean house to free me up to continue to sell/give/keep/pack. I'm saving renovations and decorating for my new farm home, whenever and where ever that might be.

5. If you could sit in a rocking chair and view a beautiful scene, where would you be and what would you be looking at? See that header photo, above? That's the valley from my front porch and sun room porch and that's where I spend warm afternoons...on the sun room porch, with the dogs and cats, admiring the view and counting my blessings.

Sadie and Sam get roasted pig trotters whenever I find them on sale. One of the clerks, an Asian woman, always smiles enthusiastically at me and comments, "In my country, we eat these too." I've not had the courage to tell her I'm fixing them for my dogs because I only eat the tasty bits of pig - bacon, ham, sausage, tenderloin, roasts and the like.

February might be the shortest month but, nods to April, February might also be the cruelest month as well. After the past two weeks of slogging through three foot drifts to get to the barn for chores, putting down the aged and ill, keeping bodies and souls together for beasties and woman...this ole girl is ready for a rest. Which, by the way, I've had for the past few days because I pulled all kinds of muscles in my back and nether regions. By the time I was ready to come home from town yesterday, I was tip toeing on one leg and dragging the other...a pretty sight to be sure and people looked at me as if I were contagious. More Ibuprofen, aspirin, a slug of Scotch and a hot Epsom salt bath and today, I'm good as...um, can be expected. The snow and ice have melted and we're due for more snow today and tomorrow; the rest of the week is to be clear, please God.

Between the winter that is and the winter that was, following Dave's death, I have finally learned there is within me an invincible God (a nod to Camus). Your kind words and comments are sore welcome and much needed but any strength I have is all due to God. He's the one who allows me to do this work He has set before me and He's the one who gives me the mental capability to suss out things and make wise decisions. My daily prayer, after devotions is, "Please God, keep me safe and give me wisdom" and then I begin my day.

However, I am at war with myself. It used to be Dave kept store for me, now that he's gone, I must keep store for myself and, too frequently, I overspend, having only myself to blame while time is stolen from work in order for the body to heal. It is a fine, delicate balancing act (isn't it Quinn?) to do...but not overdo, work...but not overwork, strain...but not over strain all in order to keep pain at bay and body and soul together.

When Dave and I first moved to the farm, I worked seven days a week. On Sunday, after church, I'd come home, change clothes and head right out to the barn or pasture. It didn't take long for me to realize burning the candle at both ends was a guaranteed way to burn out. If God could take off one day out of seven, let it be a lesson to me and I changed my evil ways. Mostly, I still take off Sunday other than basic chores or emergencies and my life and body are the better for doing so. If you're trying to work seven days a week, I urge you to try taking off one day, resting your body and seeing how quickly you recuperate and have better energy and mental powers for the tasks at hand.

Finally, the good news is, February is on his last legs; we're in the homestretch and March beckons but with no indication if he'll be a lion or lamb. My vote is lion so April can descend quietly, with an umbrella of grace and mercy, like a lamb.

Blessings ~ fire in the wood stove ~ wood on the back porch ~ wood in the barn ~ walking upright ~ pig trotters for the babies ~ February ~ March ~ April ~