I have never been to a college ball game and I’ve always loved the Final Four. When I learned that WVU was playing Baylor who are undefeated, I knew I had to make the trek up to Morgantown…a place I’ve never been, believe it or not. Wow, what a game! WVU defeated Baylor, 89-68. There is so much excitement at a game when you attend. Lots of audience participation and of course, it’s always fun to watch college students supporting their team.
Ok, double entendres taken into consideration, I am content on this beautiful, sunny day…sitting at the farm, writing. AND…I have been copying my posts from Marshmallow-Ranch-the-Facebook-page to Marshmallow-Ranch-the-web-page. This is the meat and bones of my work…what my media mentor, Janine Pettit of Girl Camper fame, points out is my most valuable online asset…Content! Content! Content!
I have been writing this blog for four years now. At least three and a half years of that saw a new essay every single day. That, my friends, is a BOATLOAD of content! Now, before you get too concerned…Marshmallow Ranch isn’t leaving Facebook…not entirely. But, it has been bothering me for quite some time when I think of the sheer volume of work I have floating out in the nether regions of the Internet that I really have no control over. In this day and age of Internet hacking, I don’t know what I would do if Facebook was suddenly wiped out and there was no record of all this writing! Out of sheer convenience, I have written every post directly to Facebook…no Word documents, no back up other than printing out about two and a half years worth of posts. It’s beginning to give me the willies, so I decided to do something about it…for a number of reasons.
We’ve lost track how old she is. Twenty-three? Twenty-four, maybe? She’s old. And she’s sweet as sugar. She came along some time after the original “Old Mama Kitty” was found, cold and still, lying on a bale of hay in the neighbor’s shed. She, too, was ancient. She was my Uncle Bob’s kitty. Bob was born with a developmental disability. He lived and worked on the farm his entire life. A kinder and gentler man would be nigh on to impossible to find. His “job” was ring the church bell every Sunday…a position he took very seriously and performed religiously, so to speak.
In the Company of Women
Yesterday was my “girls day”. I met eleven other women from my high school class at 10:00 for our monthly therapy session…err, I mean, coffee klatche. One of the first things I did when I moved back to West Virginia two years ago was to organize these monthly gatherings of my classmates so we have connections as we head into the golden years of retirement. I have been blessed with this kind of supportive tribe of strong women all my adult life. Women in West Virginia don’t “gather” quite the same as they do in Colorado. I’m not sure why…culture, economics, traditional marital roles? Whatever…getting these wonderful women together has been a highlight every month for the last two years and I love every one of them!
Prayer Warriors: Our fellow “Rancher” and friend, Gloria, is asking for especially strong prayers for her daughter, Sue, as they head to the MD Anderson Center to get treatment to kick this cancer, once and for all! Let’s lift them up! ??? Thank you!
When Bad Things Happen
Since the beginning of time, bad things have happened. There is evil in the world and when senseless acts of violence happen, it is sometimes difficult to see God. This was a pretty bad week in the world. Four people beat a stranger and broadcast it online…live. A madman opened fire in an airport. My friend’s son hit a tree with his face when he was skiing (he’s ok, thank God!). Freak snowstorms wreaked havoc on the highways and byways of America. Politics…don’t get me started. It’s been a hard week. Where was God?
“Until We Meet Again”
I stumbled across this picture on Pinterest last night. A woman had her and her husband’s wedding bands repurposed into a necklace she could wear. The diamonds were from her engagement ring. I thought this was a lovely sentiment and wondered what those of you who are widowed might have done with your wedding rings.
I’m a member of several closed groups for widows. They are mostly involved with travel but some are just safe places where you can go and say things you would never say anywhere else. I remember belonging to one such group early after losing Mr. Virgo. I would often read through the posts in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. Occasionally someone would come into the “chat room” looking for someone to talk to during a particularly bad night. One night, a woman came in and asked if there was anyone out there who could talk and I answered. We visited awhile and I became increasingly alarmed when she made statements like “I don’t want to do this anymore.” And “I just want to die so I can be with him.” I asked if there was someone I could call for her and did she need help. I asked if she had plans to hurt herself. She assured me she did not, but it was just such a struggle. She seemed to settle down and I eventually asked her how long it had been since her husband had died. By the way she sounded, and given my own personal experience, I figured maybe six to eight months. I was stunned when she said ten years! OMGosh! I surely didn’t want to feel like this for ten years!!! That’s when I really realized what an individual journey grief is. No…we each experience it quite differently.
Tonight’s first “Peaceful Moment” of 2017 is about resolutions and how they might not work in one big moment. But…give them lots of little moments and see what happens!
It’s Not About You…Unless It Is
In keeping with the theme of the New Year and yesterday’s post about body image, let’s explore a little more about self….self-image, self-control. How many times have you felt the sting of someone else’s judgement? How often have we believed what someone else has said about us? And I’m not just talking about people we know and love…people who are supposed to love us. I’m also talking about complete strangers…the rude man behind us in the checkout line…the clerk at the post office…the young girls on the bus who snicker behind their hands, whispering something you can’t quite hear but you know it’s you they are targeting.
The Dancing of Life
As we head into the New Year, resolutions in hand, I felt it was time to revive a discussion we have periodically about body image. I know I am not the only woman who has had an ongoing love/hate relationship with her body. Thank GOD I’m past that at this beautiful stage of crone-dom! I am supremely confident in my own skin now. I own it. I love it. I know I am beautiful and I work it.