What should we do now that the year 2017 is over and 2018 has begun? We harvest the ripened crops of course. Then, we plant more seeds for the future. As I take the time to reflect on the past year, I see my successes and my failures. I thrived in some areas and fell short in others. This is where the lessons are learned. However, lessons are not learned if we have closed our mind’s eye to the act of learning those lessons.
Hello, my dear followers and readers. I recently lived through Hurricane Irma and did not have the time, power, or the internet to write. Even now, though I do have power and the internet back, I have other things that need to be done first. I will be writing several pieces in the next several days. Please stay tuned in. I will also have a few photos of our property and the surrounding area that were taken the morning after Hurricane Irma hit.
Thank you for your continued support. Hugs and love!
This morning was a typical morning. Typical because I awoke to the typical physical pain that I have awoken to for the past three years. A fused right ankle from an injury had flared up once again. The remnants of a flu virus had sent me into a convulsion of coughing. It was 7 am–sunlight peeked through the blinds, and I was suddenly wide awake. After getting the violent cough under my control, I carefully stepped out of bed. I quickly sat back down on the side of the bed and massaged my right foot and ankle. Ah, much better I thought. I stood up again, and though the pain was still there, it was tolerable.
I remember well the summers in upstate New York when I was young. The four-acre farm that my family lived on was not just a training ground of responsibility for my siblings and me. It was a natural school. We learned how to work as a team–which was often a tug of war for the best and easiest assigned chores. There were five of us–three girls and two boys. My father had a riding lawn mower, and thank goodness because he mowed about two-thirds of our four-acres.
If you stood at the side of the road facing our two-story farm house, you would see a large freshly mowed field to the left. Closest to the road was a large raspberry patch that my mother employed us to pick from for jams, jellies and sometimes pies. Much further back in the field was a fenced in chicken coop where the meanest rooster in the world lived. But that is another story. Continue reading “Duck the Swallows”→