Paul Harvey once said, “In times like these, it’s helpful to remember that there have always been times like these.” I read that in my morning devotional yesterday and it really struck home. I’m soon to be sixty-nine years old. In those nearly seven decades, there have been plenty of “times like these”. The Cuban Missile Crisis. Assassinations. Wars. Riots. 9/11. The Pandemic. So many challenges. And, through all of them, the biggest sacrifices came in the form of loss and grief.
Yesterday was the prettiest day so we decided to take a ride down to Charleston and run an errand. We also wanted to hit Cabella’s I’ve had Mr. FixIt thinking about what he really wants for his milestone birthday just passed and he finally came up with something. A really good surf fishing rod and reel.
I gave up the reins and let my sweetheart drive so I could knit…after a Dramamine, of course. It was sunny without a cloud in the sky. A perfect 70-ish degrees. I was amazed at the difference in the flowering trees just ninety miles south of us. Everything was in full bloom! I felt like we just kind of stumbled into spring and it was divine!
We had a soft day. Nothing pressing. Nothing urgent. Our day of rest and reflection and silent prayerful meditation. Mr. FixIt made oats for breakfast. He watched a little TV. I knitted. We attempted to nap…albeit unsuccessfully. He went to town to visit with his bowling buddies as they played. He hasn’t bowled on a regular basis since the original lockdown and subsequent strokes. His balance is a little off…his hands not quite as before. But he’s all there and healthy so we’ll take that as a win!
I met my classmates yesterday morning for coffee. We always have so much fun visiting. We had some new folks and some who hadn’t attended in quite some time, which is always nice. One of the gals brought little pots of shamrocks for us. I remember when Wood County Bank used to give them out every St. Patrick’s Day. I hadn’t had one for ages so I brought it home and put it in the kitchen window. Hopefully I don’t kill it, but I’m not laying bets on it.
I gave her her first bath, much to her parent’s dismay. I misunderstood. She wanted me to show her how to bathe the baby by not actually DOING it. We all survived and there were plenty of other baths for mom and dad to participate in. Anyway, my first grandchild has gone from a little tadpole to a barracuda. She and her mom are up north at one of her last swim meets as a high school student. Big texted this afternoon with a link and we pulled her events up on the big screen TV. There, I watched my beautiful girls…Big in the water and Daughter #1 timing the races.
I’ve been in therapy a few times over the years to help me deal with some of the more difficult struggles in life. It’s nothing I am ashamed of. As a matter of fact, I’m convinced I am sitting here writing to you from my snuggly camper simply because I chose vulnerability over pain.
It’s not easy to open yourself up and dig deep inside. You find things lurking in there you forgot you ever experienced. From memories of early childhood sexual abuse to an emotionally abusive alcoholic father to the many men I went through trying to find my father’s love, I stuffed a whole lot of garbage down a drain. But, like all drains…eventually that thing is going to back up on you and it ain’t gonna be pretty.
Our helpers couldn’t come yesterday so there was a change in plans. We got “Birdie” set up and cleaned out the ladybugs and stink bugs. Mr. FixIt gave her a bath. And I headed to the farm for a couple of days. It had been a while since I got to visit and I was in need of a farm fix.
I’m a “yarn junkie” and I went to see my dealer yesterday. We do our negotiations right in front of God and everybody. I shamelessly paw through her sale bin with the fervor of someone jonesing for a fix, knowing full well how many “hits” I already have in my stash at home. *sigh* I can’t help it…I’ve hit the mother lode. A yarn shop! Granted, it’s 20 miles there and 20 miles back, so the cost of fuel is cutting into my savings but….c’mon, man…it’s a YARN SHOP!
It was sunny and gorgeous yesterday and just about all the snow has melted. The creeks were roaring and the ground was spongy beneath my feet as I walked out to the camper for a little recharge. I do so love having a space to call my own. I love taking a good book and crawling under the electric blanket for a read and a little nap. It’s so restorative.
I’m finding knitting a shawl to be a bit more tedious than I thought. Granted, if I were knitting a more intricate pattern, or if the yarn changed color more frequently, it might be more entertaining. As it is, you start with one stitch and gradually add two stitches every other row. So, as you get further along in the course of knitting the garment, the rows become longer and longer. There is something of a psychological obstacle when you knit and knit and knit and get two rows done. Ugh. Now I totally get why knitters have more than one project going at the same time.
