Rhythm or Arrhythmia...?

~ wise man, wise words ~

Rhythm or arrhythmia is the question of the day. I am most fortunate because my days are spent doing those things of my choosing. Granted, it's mostly work, in fact, the overwhelming majority of my day is spent in work but...it's work of my choosing, so I am blessed. I don't intend to ever retire and, when my time comes, want to die doing something useful in being of service to God.

Some days Rarely are my days spent thusly:

"I meant to do my work today ~ 

But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,

And a butterfly flitted across the field,

And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
   Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand—
   So what could I do but laugh and go?"

~ Richard Le Gallienne ~

Even when I'm outside, enjoying the bounty of God's nature, I'm working...chopping thistles, mucking the barn, repairing fence, water proofing the porches, sweeping, checking the livestock water troughs, but always, always enjoying the weather, scenery, voices of birds, horses, sheep (neighbor's), cattle and wind. There is a rhythm to my days and, like most, I am a creature of habit. The night before going to bed I check my lists, cross off that which was accomplished, write in what needs to be done the next day. My very early mornings are dedicated to needs of house animals, then coffee for me, followed by devotions and a walk to the barn to tend to farm animals. After, I check e-mail, various businesses and then begin my real work...whatever that is -smile-.

A few days ago, I began mowing the pasture between the house and the hay field. This pasture has some steepness to it and wasn't long before my nerve left me and I called Andy. He's my help from last year but, this year, has been helping the neighbor down the road. He said he'd be here one day after work and today was the day. He showed up while I was across the mountain buying diesel for the tractor; I didn't want him to run out! Andy drives like he was born in that tractor seat, as do I when on flat ground -smile- but on hills, I'm frightened of turning over. I've known, or heard of, a few farming accidents already this year and don't want to be yet another statistic.

This week's housework is limited to shampooing rugs. Faith shampooed 9 yesterday and another 4 today; tomorrow we're going to begin taking out the rest of the Persian rugs for cleaning. My brother said, "You know you're Appalachian when you have rugs hanging on the fence." Some might look askance (perhaps even Dave) but the sun both dries and disinfects while letting them dry inside on the floor means they'll take days to dry. That's stupid and I hadn't bothered to consider what the neighbors might think until my brother brought it up. I mean, surely the neighbors have better things to worry/wonder/talk about.

Remember the tomatoes of last week? I canned 39.5 quarts of tomatoes and 9 pints plus 1 quart of sauce. I gave away 7 quarts to the woman who gave me the tomatoes and still have plenty for winter. I've already dipped into the spaghetti sauce and, frankly, if I get tired of spaghetti, it'll make dandy Bloody Mary mix, with or without alcohol.

Coming home I saw several deer, including this one being chased by the other. Not sure what that was all about, territory I suppose, but they were serious.

Eventually, the one being chased dropped over the hill and began wading in the creek. It was only there safety was found.

About a quarter mile away, this doe and her fawn grazed along the fence line. When she heard my car stop, she turned and watched me until they walked deeper into the grass.

There's a rhythm to my days that Dave would have called, "full of ennui" but I prefer to call "full of languor", that pleasant feeling of tiredness that comes from doing work I love. The children are no longer staying here and that's a good thing...for all of us. The time opened up by them leaving took as long as putting my hand in a pail of water and seeing the resulting space empty then fill...iow, not very long at all. There's always work.

I live a slow life; I am pleased to live a slow life and it's by choice. Dave and I lived slowly; we savored what we were able to do here on this farm. When we traveled, we traveled slowly and rented apartments or condos where locals lives. Hardly ever did we stay in a hotel...except for that memorable time when we stayed in the Hotel George in Kensington (his favorite section to stay), London. We'd been on a trip to Morocco, camped in the desert with the Bedouins and Blue Men or Tuareg people , visited a Berber village and Dave wanted civilization, with a capital C. So, he booked us at Hotel George and it was fabulous! What I remember most were the breakfasts...lush, extravagant, hot tea, scones, fruit, omelets made to order...ahhhhh... Breakfast has always been my favorite meal and I've always enjoyed a huge breakfast. When I've had a good breakfast, I can go the rest of the day, until supper, and not flag; well, not flag too much. Dave wanted to sleep in good beds with clean sheets, have a hot shower of indeterminate length, go to theatre (we saw Wicked) and, in general, have too much of a very good thing.

Einstein was a smart man but he never knew Dave.

Yes, I am a blessed woman; my life has been full of love, laughter, travel, good food and all those things that make memories worth remembering. Lately, grief has visited and it's been difficult but remembering good times and praying, a lot, has made it easier. I even dreamed about Dave; we were in an airport, somewhere, and he was trying to figure out our flights. Usually dreams are strange, disjointed and this was no exception. In the dream he went ahead, leaving me in the terminal while he "sorted this out, wait here for me". 

I'm still waiting, Dave.

Blessings ~ travel ~ interesting countries ~ K&K Hotel George ~ Kensington ~ London ~ Morocco ~ Dave, always Dave ~