I’ve gotten a lot better about handing things over to God as I age. I just get tired and lose patience and turn it over later than I should. I told you about giving Him the taxes to handle. The rest of the story happened yesterday.
When I went to bed Thursday night, I told God I was just going to leave this folder on His desk and I’d look for his report in the morning. Well, when I got up yesterday, I went into the office and sat down. After going through that whole rigamarole over the printer and printing everything out, I still wasn’t comfortable sending it in that way. Mainly because I would have to send all those 1099’s and such, and I just wanted to keep it simple. I wanted to e-file.
Lord, I’ve tried to keep up with everything the last few months. When I posted yesterday’s message, I was so incredibly overwhelmed with all that’s on my plate and I was at my wit’s end. So, I did what I do when the burning ends of the candle are threatening to meet in the middle. I had a conversation with God. I told him I was tired and I really needed to sleep. I said I felt like I was beating my head against a brick wall with these taxes and I just could NOT figure out what was wrong. I handed everything over to Him and said, “Can you take care of this tonight so I can rest. In the morning, you can tell me what I’m doing wrong and what I need to do to fix it.” God has bigger hands than me.
Lands...I’d say this has been a crazy couple of weeks, but it’s been like this since the end of February! I came home Wednesday while the Open House was going on over at the farm. I can’t even tell you what I did when I got home. But yesterday, I started in on the taxes first thing while Mr. FixIt worked on the flooring in the entryway by both doors of the family room. The carpet comes today and we’re ready. Between fussing with the computer and trying to help my sweetheart, I’d just about had it by evening. So, I insisted we take a break and go get ice cream.
My goal was to have the house clean and presentable for the Open House yesterday, and I have to say...I was so proud of the way it looked when the auction agent (Wayne) got there. They arrived about 3:15 and needed to get back up on the hill to show the property lines to the one who hadn’t been there yet. Wayne took a quick look around the house and he was so pleased. The first time he saw it was when Mr. FixIt and I were at the beach so nothing had been done. It was in quite a state of disarray.
When I was a very little girl, my PopPop would sit me on his knee and sing “Froggy Went a Courtin’”. When I grew up, I thought everyone sang it this way, but apparently not. I have no idea if this is something he made up, or if this is an old Appalachian way. When I googled it, I learned the song PopPop taught me is a lengthened version of the bridge. So, I’m going to include a link to me singing it the way I was taught and to a recording of Elizabeth Mitchell & You Are My Flower from her fourth album with Smithsonian Folkways. Hers is decidedly MUCH better than mine...but here it is for posterity!
Ok, those of you have followed me oh, these many years know what happens every single year at tax time. I wait till the last week, then I sit down to do the taxes and the doggone computer decides it needs to choose THAT EXACT MOMENT to download thirty-seven updates plus a scan of the hard drive, then there’s an error downloading something and you’re on hold with tech support for three years and the whole thing makes me wonder why on EARTH I stopped drinking! Ok...that may be a small exaggeration...but still, all day on the computer and I was no further getting the taxes done than when I started. Except now my computer has every shiny new update created by mankind!
Mr. FixIt and I both have full calendars this week. I’m over at the farm, continuing to clear things out and make it presentable for an open house on the 12th and he’s at the Ponderosa, getting the family room ready for the new carpet that’s being installed on Friday. He’s also preparing to put in an electric line from the building to the deck so we can hang our strings of market lights on the pergola.
I got a little bit of a late start yesterday. I realized I didn’t really have anything at the farm for breakfast and I didn’t want to eat a hamburger and cottage cheese that early. So, I hopped in the truck for the short drive east. About seven miles away is a gas station/diner/tire center/convenience store. It’s saved my butt many a time when I ran out of something basic, but you wouldn’t want to actually “buy groceries” there as it’s spendy. Initially I thought I’d buy a box of cereal, or maybe some eggs, but as I got closer, I decided to go to the next biggest town where they have a real grocery store. Mr. FixIt agreed to come out and stay at the farm later, so I wanted to have real food.
I’m kind of entering a countdown now with the farm. My ability to stay here whenever I want is coming to an end. Consequently, I’m spending as much time here as possible. I came out Tuesday. My cousin Tammy came out yesterday to help me go through my aunt’s things. We bagged up all of her clothes and shoes. The sizes are very small as my aunt was fastidious with her weight. I’ll bet she never varied more than a pound or two save for the “freshman 20” and the wasting of old age. And, for someone as incredibly frugal as she was, there were many designer pieces in her closet. She had grand style.
