What an absolute treat it was to wake up out at the farm yesterday morning. Grandma’s bedroom is right along the creek’s edge and with all the rain we have been having, the sound of the water riffling along was like a lullaby. I slept so well and awoke refreshed and ready to face a busy day.
Mr. FixIt and I did a morning walkabout on the property to check things out. He moved some fallen limbs from the ditch along the road and placed them on the burn pile. The daffodils are up about 8” high already and the grass is greening up nicely. I’ll need to mow before too long to mulch up the leaves that fell over the fall and winter. The rhododendron gets huge buds on them in the fall. They winter over and won’t bloom till late May or early June. They are still beautiful as they awaken from winter with a freshened shine to their leaves. They don’t drop their leaves like so many other plants. They just droop down all winter then stand up with their arms stretched wide in the spring.
After having breakfast with a granddaughter who is a student at WVU, we headed off to explore the area further south where my ancestors were from. I have this thing for cemeteries. I am always curious as to who these people were. Do they still have visitors? Do they have people who remember them and tell their stories? Or has it been so long that all of their loved ones are dead and gone and no one knows to even look for them. Or…worse yet…no one cares.
Mr. FixIt and I live a pretty frugal life. We are careful in our spending so that we can afford small indulgences now and then. We both came from mixed backgrounds. We’ve both known what it’s like to have very little and to have much. We have a healthy appreciation of both. Because we came together later in life, money will be something we watch carefully. We have become good stewards of what God has given us.
I am always pumped on Mondays. My “Monday Morning Motivation” begins Sunday when Mr. FixIt and I walk into church. I’ve never gone to a church that has been so uplifting. I have never in my life looked forward to Sundays like I do now! It is such an amazing feeling to carry God with me into my week.
The Praise and Worship Team sang a new song yesterday by the Christian rock band, Jesus Culture called “Love Has a Name”. Our sermon series for the month of February was entitled “Love Handles”. Yesterday, Pastors Justin and Heather sat down and talked to us about 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 and put it in the perspective of our relationships. Let’s break it down.
I met my gal pals for coffee yesterday…these magnificent ‘71 Divas Do Coffee. We started meeting once a month about four years ago to gather at a coffee shop and participate in a little “caffeine therapy”. I had a coffee group in Colorado that met once a week for 35 years and I really missed the camaraderie. I gathered up my friends and invited them out and now we can’t imagine not getting to see each other at least that once a month visit. There are now offshoots of the group that meet for lunch almost every week. Some of them meet to take care of a flower garden in the City Park. A few of them are going to drive down Monday to see a sick friend in Huntington. They are a grand group of gals with many common bonds…predominantly graduating high school together.
How many times do we say that? Something happens to someone and we automatically say, “I’ll pray for you!” We hear of a tragedy and we say, “I’ll pray for you!” How many times do we say that…and forget to pray? Or, how about when you’re scrolling through Facebook and someone asks for prayers. We might type “Prayers!” Or “Done!” Or my personal favorite…”???” A furtive “God, please give this woman what she’s asking for.” These are good things, don’t get me wrong. But we can do so much better.
We were driving out to the farm the other day and saw a for sale sign on a property just down the road. I went on the real estate sales website to look it up. I was curious to see if the property shared a boundary with the farm. There is an old homestead up there that I remember going to when I was a very young child. Grandma and Mom had taken me to an auction they were having. I was given a hot dog and placed in a little blue wagon and pulled all around. Grandma bought the jelly cupboard that’s in the kitchen. It was painted with several coats of white enamel and Pop-Pop let me “help” him scrape the paint off. That cupboard is the only piece of furniture I will inherit from the farm and I cherish it.
Those of us who were coming of age in the ‘60s remember the protests of the day. Slogans like “Make Love, Not War” are being replaced with “Arms Are For Hugging”. For the last several years I’ve been wondering…”Where are the hippies?” The adolescents of my generation changed the world. It has been frustrating to see subsequent generations become so complacent with the status quo.
One of the upsides of Facebook memories is documented progress. One of my readers shared a post yesterday that I wrote a year ago. I was declaring how gorgeous spring is in West Virginia. I observed the earth coming back to life, the shoots of spring bulbs exploding from the moist soil, the greening up of the world. I spoke of all the new babies being born in the fields surrounding the farm. And I talked about budding romances and how I was ready to try again. And here I am…a year later and in a relationship with a wonderful man. He is a constant reminder of how good God is to me.
While the world recoils in horror at the havoc you have wrought, I want you to know something. I have tears for the terribly tragic loss of these beautiful people you have cut down who will never have the opportunity to reach their potential. But, believe it or not, I have tears for you, too. While those parents prepare to lay their babies to rest, I wonder if there’s anyone there for you. Because I have a feeling there hasn’t been…probably for a very, very long time.
“Rhododendron and the gas light”
At the WVU Basketball Game
“Budding Branches”
“My Love Has a Name…Jesus”
“Grandma and me at about the same age.”
“I’ll Pray for You”
“Protests…Then and Now”
“Burger al Fresco”
“Writing in TOW-Wanda”