Reflections

 

Jack Frost Took Over

Easy come, easy go!  Jack came by last night with his new color palette!  The little booger also left his frost machine on overdrive!  Thick and white, the overcoat of ice transformed our autumn beauty into Old Man Winter’s seasonal portal.

The temps were 15 here on the hill and 22 in town at 4a.m.  You can bet the fire was roaring.  I still got cold.  The outdoor animals had their say about it all and not a bark, snort, or wiggle was very nice.  The coyotes and other night sounds were even absent.

I sit and study the new palette of kettle coppers and leather russets, deepest of rose reds and simmering tea browns with just a splash of kiwi greens still lingering here and there.  Each of the many Dogwood sport deep dark red on the top side of the leaves, while the bottom side of brown flutters in the breeze to tease the birds revealing plump bright red berries. 

The golden lemons, peachy oranges, and bright ruby reds have been wiped away.  On the ground nothing is distinguishable as was yesterday, with the exception of swaths of spiking green grass.  In the midst of slumber, the Fall season passes yet again.

I ponder this in relation to our lives.  Unless you have been blessed to share your life with someone who is in tune with your life’s song, no one person knows what you have seen, been where you have been, did what you did, met others as you did, or enjoyed anything quite like you.  It almost sounds insane.

One wonders over the miracle of life and its journey; twists and turns, bumps and wrecks, accomplishments and failures all haunting you at times.  How bright and beautiful it all seemed as you journey, though now you finally see how you have not been the first and you certainly won’t be the last to realize the tests of time.  Each season is unique with special palettes of color, as was and is life.

The colors you chose and how you used them to paint your life determined the paths you took, the challenges you overcame, the dreams you tackled and won, and prepared you for your golden years.  Those colors also aided in your decisions in perception, abilities, skills, and goals to escape into when health or age attempts to trip you up.

Are you prepared for the coppers and browns after such beauty as yellows, oranges, and reds?

Lingering Luxury

What a morning!  Good morning, by the way, how are YOU?

True to local predictions, the wind did its best to undress the trees of their autumn finery yesterday.  Gazing out the window up the steep winding driveway/hillside and on into the woods, I acknowledge a new revelation of the definition for this type of day and it is not wet and dreary.

Rejuvenating and reawakening would be a good snatch at words without coffee in hand.  Oh, but it is brewing nearby and the aroma as usual, heavenly as in uplifting!  My spirits begin to soar watching the wide variety of birds fetch their breakfast between the soggy leaves and sprigs of bright green grassy spots that remain.  A flash of movement and my eyes follow a dozen or so white tails bound through the air from the woods on one side of the driveway to the other side of the woods.  Headed to the creek for a drink, I suppose.

They lead me to take more notice of the plentiful foliage, bright and beautiful, still clinging for their lives to stark trees that seem to shimmer in the cold drizzle.  I shivered a bit, feeling their nakedness, and moved from the window to tend even more important things at hand.  Coffee!

With coffee in hand and the aroma uplifting me, I will soon shake off the shackles of age and illness perks.  The mind seems to be sharp as a tack and already gearing up for this new outlook of a day.  I actually went back to bed, but NO!  The Chihuahuas would not hear of such a thing!

Theresa had reported cutting back the mums and other flowers in her flower garden.  This brought my eyes to ones I picked from my curbside welcome garden.  They are a rusty red, spidery petals, with golden mustard centers.  They bloomed later than the other varieties and hold their heads up so proud in the windowsill.  I would be proud too, had I made it through the past freezes we have endured the last few weeks.   To me, they are candy for the mind and heart.  I will wait for the drizzle to subside and tackle cutting the most of the mums back today, so the pansies can peak through the broad bushy beauty now ebbing away.

I had fully intended to richochet from coffee to crocheting, but for the love of the word, I had to talk to anyone who will listen to my heart first.  I say “Hello and good morning, God!  How are YOU?” and let Him know I am ready to listen.

The phone rings.  I answer.  “Please hold the line.” Click.  I hang up.  Humph.  They want me they will call back.  I am not going to waste a moment standing still.  Shucks.  My fingers cannot even stay still.  I am non-stop go and get done from dawn to past dusk.  I get too still, and I am out for the count.

I hear me saying I and me a lot lately.  I remember back when the kids were little.  I talked to them all the time whether they listened or not.  I had to talk.  I had a lot to say.  Nobody to listen.  Same way now.  By the time I get to talk to my friends, I am on overload spilling my thoughts, ideas, and events of the day into their laps.  I often imagine them putting their hands to their ears, but have not caught them yet.  Ahhh! For the love of a friend.

I have scleroderma.  It is an autoimmune disease which I was diagnosed with last autumn.  Looking back over the years I find I probably have had this flaw for quite some time.  I tend to get down in the dumps, but I fight, struggle, wiggle until I can breathe again!  Humph.  Again.  Not going to let the body jail me.  So, I love to talk or write or work or something to stay busy.

They tell me some things start to happen when I slowdown in age.  They tell me I need to get more exercise other than work.  They tell me my joints are disintegrating and that I need to slow down!?

Then I get to thinking it all could be so much worse.  Some of my friends have problems that are like mountains compared to my molehills and I praise God for walking with me.  This leads me to my daughter.

When I fall into the clutches of a pity party, I yearn for someone to remember me.  I would love to receive calls often,  flowers would be so lovely, or a few minutes of their time in visitation would be highly treasured.  Friends manage to prevail, but kids do not realize this injection of their love and lives is a necessity for someone’s ability to thrive and stay involved in life who is alone, let alone aging with a disease.

Shifting gears now.

My revelations included this.  If I cannot be involved with my family as I want and need, I will find ways to still be useful and wanted and needed.  I have decided to help others when needed and push my heart to the rear of the bus.  I figure in time, these recipients of my heartfelt gestures will be my family to fill in the lonely times until my family can overcome their obstacles that keep them from me.  Say gas, miles, money…..attitudes. 

 Come on economy!  Breathe some life back into us!

Meanwhile back on our farm.  We dubbed it ‘Heartspun Hilltop Haven”.  I need to stop whining and get busy.  Life is too short and precious to waste a second.  Too many times I have heard how time flies and it really, really does. 

When we are young we think we are invincible.  Well, mornings hyper jet into evenings around here.  Flipping off the TV, later Paula, turning off the PC, catch up with you later Facebook, and refill the coffee mug for energy to finish those lap blankets I am crocheting for Christmas gifts.  I find they are welcome to lonely seniors.

Enjoy your day no matter where God plants you.  It is His gift!

BOGIE!!!

Hmmmm!

That dog!  You got to love him!

I inadvertently dropped one of my good shoes and Bogie ate it all but the sole!!!

I missed Church, but I did not miss God.  I worshipped this morning outdoors under the whispering Cedars with song praising him.  No laughing.  I also listened to the audio Bible at http://www.biblegateway.com/audio/mclean/kjv/Luke.1  Smile!

Leaves are currently whisking by on the wings of the wind.  The next rain will wipe the limbs bare.  Golden hues of color still remain for me to enjoy today while listening to Him in the peaceful quiet!

Come with me......................................

Me & Mine - Come on in for a spell!

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Shooting Star, Albert, & Luke

 

Good morning!!!!!!!!!!

 



I was aroused from peaceful and deep slumber by howling.  I stumbled for the door to let the dogs rumble in their yard. Today was going to be a long day for me with their alarm clocks four hours early.

I inhaled the fresh air so deeply it took my breath away.  I rarely miss the dreary nights of the cities we used to frequent.  Skylines of colored lights and towering structures were mesmerizing, but give me the country life any time.

This morning was cloaked in a light misty 2:00a.m. in the South; not quite as icy as previous nights, but even so, cold, and starlit by some of the most dazzling stars winking at me.  In wonder, ignoring the ear-splitting joy of Chihuahuas yapping, my heart  followed a shooting star blazing across God’s palette of awe.

It had one of the longest tails I had seen in my 57 years, and oh my gracious, it strolled that sky so fast it made your head spin in wonder whether you actually saw it or it had been a figment of your sleepy imagination.

In His presence, I grinned, knowing I was so blessed.  I thanked him for the spectacular starry night.  Therefore,  I tucked myself back under quilts and afghans; soon sleeping with a grin still on my face.

Routines as routines go, I stumbled around when the sun began to peek through the windows and let them barge back out into their yard.  Noisy little boogers along with Bogie’s deep excited barking at them.

Bogie is a huge Pyrenees/Collie mix.  Someone dumped him and I kept him after I got his shots for him and neutered him.  He is the lovingest dog you would ever want.  However, and I say however in underlines three times over….he digs ponds on the chase after moles, terrorizes cats, (snuggles kittens, go figure)runs off after the female Pyrenees miles up the road, runs my deer back into the woods, and often brought home alien trinkets of which the last he brought was some unlucky fella’s steel toe boots.

So, to keep him, I had to tie him.  He went through a few cables and collars chewing through them like they were cake!  In the end a 250 pound equivalent cable worked, but the collar was still an issue.  I would tie him and turn around and he would be bouncing after a cat.

Well now.  I fixed that for sure.  I had to buy one of those steel collars with the spikes turned inward.  I thought it cruel, but it works.  I am told it does not stick him, yet it does feel like a pinch.  It took a few times lurching, but he figured out I had his number.  Excellent guard dog might be his title, but he is grounded.  Oh, I walk him lots and pet and love on him plenty.  He will learn right from wrong, or my name is Moses!  He will learn freedom pays a price.

BUT, now he barks at the Chihuahuas when they are turned out.  Of course, they yapp up a storm at him.  About the time it gets quiet, Bogie barks his tune again, stirring up the whole routine yet again.  Whew!  By mid-morning and a few more times out, everybody settles down.

 

With coffee and raisin bread in hand, I retreat to listening to the Bible on audio online.  Heaven at last, I crochet and dwell on His word.

 

 

"I cannot imagine a God who rewards and punishes the objects of his creation." - Albert Einstein

I backtracked to visit a site which had been visiting my blog.  I did this out of pure curiosity, since I have few that take the time to get to know me or scan my thoughts.  I have always been a loner, but not by choice.  I tend to be accompanied by God, though, and I need to learn to let that suffice.  Still, I yearn for even more friends.  The world of people calls out to my heart.  I want to hear from folks around the world!  Why is it so quiet?

I glance at my friendly screen to find solace and food for thought.  Networking will have to come to me.

It was of Korean origin; http://kallery.net/index.php and an exciting site.  I quickly clicked to translate, which has always, always impressed me.  The world really can communicate when it wants to do so.

(God blesses us when we take time for Him.  Follow me closely, I will confuse you.  I will say this.  He gives you the desires of your heart when you trust Him, obey Him, and love Him.)

On one of their pages I found an index of quotes tagged with some remarkable art.  Albert's quote at top of this blog caught my eye and I could not resist counter attacking it.  (In a genteel way, of course, but none the less, I attacked with the fire of passion.)

Imagination does not play a role in Christianity like trust, faith, and love do.  It always helps to have good imagination skills, but in this case, Albert's imagination and mind did not work together.  Simplest of facts eluded his grasp.

God is our heavenly Father.  Earthly Fathers "reward and punish" their children in order they instill good values in them, accountability and responsibility, and teach them how to be Christian children.  My parents used a belt and peach tree switches that undeniably accomplished goals.

I resented the whippings as they often drew blood.  I see now how they strengthened my character and helped experiences shape who I am today.  I do not feel these lessons altered my mind as authorities say is abuse today, but some folks do go overboard.  So, because of a few, the rod is spared and the child suffers without at the least a Christian level of self-worth as well as misses out on experiences that quickly teach the body, spirit, and mind the true right from wrong.

Now I ask you, directed toward the late Mr. Albert, how in this world can you attempt to make a wise statement without understanding the origin and the artistry of the creator first?   As within anything he ever tackled with his magnificent intelligence, how did he miss the mark right in front of his nose?

Luke is the most perfect chapter to have been my lesson for the day.  It culminates my morning with my thoughts that began stumbling around earlier this morn.

Two barren women blessed with child.  One is past age and the other is a virgin.

Many lessons tucked in those chapters, but the one that stands out momentarily, “With God, anything is possible.”

Mr. Albert, I hope you trusted God enough to make it to heaven.  Such a splendid mind to waste if you did not know God.  For what good is it to have mind if not heart and soul, trust and obedience?

I hope I get to meet you some day, I really do.  None of us are perfect, and maybe it is me that needs to work on my relationship.  May the power of God's love help me to see His wisdom in everything I journey this day forward, that I might be used as an instrument of peace, while at the same time, find lessons from others such as yourself to enrich my life.

Post Progress, My Foot!

I woke with anticipation for the day this morning.  As I stirred, my alarm clock of doggies latched onto their routine signal and began rumbling about wanting to go outside in this frigid cold.

 

I watched in awe at the meteor shooting across the sky.  It was huge and lit up; leaving a trail of black amidst the gray clouds wafting around in the windy dawn.

 

Did and done.  I sat down at my favorite window to admire the deer with her triplet fawns, which would shortly be coming out of the woods as usual to browse the still green grass.

 

Reflecting on my dream, tears strolled down my cheeks.  I would probably need a bucket.  I had dreamed of home as a child with my Mama cutting our Mimosa back down to an acceptable size.  I miss her and I miss those Mimosas.  She always kept them where she wanted them; short and stout, not towering and magnificent.

 

Which brings me to why I probably dreamed about such in the first place.  On my beloved hill I have a delightful view of the valley and neighbors who have changed the country into a citified version of what once was beauty, harmony, and peace and quiet.

 

True to form, this neighbor decided it was time to do as promised.  A crew was bulldozing all the wonderful, lovely trees down in his bog of a field.  The goal was to get rid of the bog.  He is.  He is and the beauty around it that coyote, birds, and other critters often enjoyed.  I enjoyed, as well.

 

The bog will be level and easier to bushhog, but now the creek looks so bare and abandoned.  It pales in comparison to our length of creek shadowed with saplings and vines for the deer to take refuge behind as they drink.

 

Years ago, when we first bought this haven, we had no options but to cut a swath of woods 50 feet wide all the way up to the top of the hill to our building site.  My neighbor to the top of us was rattled and visibly upset with us.  Ironic, huh?  Well, now days they bury power lines.  Progress, I suppose, but a little late.

 

Then the night's invasion woke me up without the coffee!  My oh my, Frankenstorm Sandy was all over the news and passed around on Facebook.

 

In each, a wrinkle of time changes lives, yet promotes progress, though I would prefer time stood still for a while.  Lanquish around in complete and utter perfection the luxury of woods and wild, peace and quite, views to die for and nature all reveal.

 

Where is that pause button?  Must be hiding out with the remote control.  I have not seen it since...since....