Declutter Delay

It's been a hot topic for a couple of years now: simplify, throw out, declutter. Kind of like spring cleaning on steroids. The other day I thoroughly cleaned the front room, rearranging the furniture, making sure to catch all the sneaky dust bunnies hiding in the corners and clinging to the paneling.

Today I decided to tackle my closet. I moved a few pair of shoes to the Goodwill pile and threw out a couple empty(!) boxes. While cleaning the top shelf, I found my box of letters from Haiti. Not too long ago, I was wondering where I had put this, thinking it was probably time to toss it out.

That's quite a stash!

 

I pulled out two cards that weren't lined up like the rest. You can see them sitting along the edge of the box. The first was a birthday card from 1984, from the two young men who taught me Creole, written in French, of all things!

"Happy Birthday, dear Madame Steve. May the year be a year of joy, peace, goodness, success, and all good things." ~Joel, your unforgettable friend.
"If ever you arrive somewhere else, this card will remind you of your best friends." ~Jean Claude.

Oh, my! "If ever you arrive somewhere else." Yup, I'm definitely somewhere else, and my eyes are filling with tears. Next, a birthday card from 1985.

This was also from Joel and Jean Claude, plus the third of the Three Musketeers: Prophete. The upper left corner says, "From J. Dorceus, J. C. Louis, P. Baptiste. "Prophete is not here. Happy birthday from him, for he put his money to buy the card, too."

I think you can read the rest. "If May 12th wasn't existed, we would invent it, so to wish you a happy birthday and a happy mother's day."

What can I say? A big chunk of my life. Faraway friends, and one already awaiting me in heaven. I carefully put the two cards back in the box. I'll continue to clean and declutter, but this treasure box won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Little by little, I'll do my best to work my way through the memories.

Hanging On

I guess you've figured out that I'm not a fan of living on a dairy farm. It's hard, dirty work with little return. But farmers love their farms ... and the small family farm is becoming a thing of the past. That aspect of it breaks my heart. It just doesn't seem right that the big business of huge farms can force the little guy out.

The cost for Weldon to ship his milk to the processing plant went from $2500 a year to $7,000 a year, effectively putting him out of business. On January 31, 2015, Weldon sold all of his best milkers. I confess to getting teary-eyed as I saw the truck driving away with our cows. Right now, Weldon is still milking eight Holsteins. Whatever milk isn't fed to the calves or sold as pet feed to our customers is poured down the drain.

For the year 2014, Weldon once again had the cleanest milk in the state, receiving what will be his final Platinum Award. He'll continue to have the cleanest milk in the state, of course, and he'll hang on to the farming life as long as possible - planting corn, raising the 16 new calves, and doing what he loves to do. I think he's adjusting pretty well, but he asked another retired dairy farmer, "When will the pain go away?" The answer: "Never."

There was an interesting article in the Winston-Salem Journal this past week about another North Carolina dairy farmer trying to hang on. You can read Randy Lewis' story here.

"His life has a certain good and timeless rhythm - and that includes square dances...." At the end of the article, you'll find a link to "The Last Barn Dance," a documentary film that has been made about his farm and the dances. Hey! I think it's a pretty cool idea.

Life goes on. Most of the female cats are pregnant, the jonquils are pushing up through anything that stands in their way, and this Sunday we'll "spring forward." I just hope someone has reminded Mother Nature of the event.  

Snow Business

On February 13, 2014, we had a great snow. I did all the things I like to do in the snow:

Use a cookie sheet as a snow shovel.

Make a snow angel.

Make a snow woman.

Make snow cream. Actually, a first for me.

Last night, February 25, 2015, we had another great snow. This time I just walked the farm and took pictures. Good thing, because the snow is melting fast!

This one would make a good jigsaw puzzle.

No kitties peeking out yet.

Some people have to work.

I startled a whole poopy pond full of geese!

Flying to the mountain for protection?

Heading down the road.

Looking across a cornfield.

Pilot Mountain. Always stunning.

Ditto.

The old Rambler Classic has seen better days, or so they tell me.

Keep looking up!

And now ... bring on Spring!!

"How's the Book Coming Along?"

Earlier this month, my daughters and I went to Arizona to see my folks, some cousins, and a few friends. We had such a good time. Here a just a few photos:

Salt Lake City. Snow!

Hoover Dam.

Lake Havasu City, AZ, from the island.

London Bridge

California, for a short while.

Las Vegas

and home!

These photos show amazing places, but the real stars are always the people. A few of them asked how my book was coming along. I spent a couple years writing, and now a year of rewriting and editing, and it's still not done. Family and friends are patiently waiting to have the finished copy in hand.

Their enthusiasm prompted me to get back at it more seriously. When I got home, my goal was to finish a chapter a day. That worked on a few chapters that were pretty much edited and fine-tuned already. But for the rest, it's slow going. I've marked about 24 chapters as "Done" and another ten are waiting to be fixed, combined with other chapters, or thrown on the trash heap.

Following is a chapter I finished this morning. (Unfortunately, the layout didn't translate perfectly from my writing software to the blog, but you can still read it.)

The Blame Game

“I’m gonna wash the dishes now,” I say, pushing myself away from the breakfast table.
“No, I’m gonna wash the dishes today,” Weldon exclaims.
“No,” I reply, stepping to the counter, “I can do them.”
“I’ll flip you for it,” and he grabs me and flips me over his shoulder.
 

“Okay, okay,” I laugh. He puts my feet back on the floor and I step away from the sink. “You win.”
Not long after this little episode, I started complaining of a backache. “Oh, no. I broke your back,” lamented Weldon.
 

“No, you didn’t break my back. It’s just tired and a little sore.”
For many months afterward, whenever I complained of my back hurting, Weldon would make that same statement: “Oh, no. I broke your back,” and each time I would reply, “No, you didn’t break my back.” Thankfully, he finally gave it up.
 

In this silly example, Weldon was blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Not quite so funny was the way I started blaming the farm for absolutely everything that wasn’t “just so” in my life.
 

Keep in mind, when I came to the farm I was 53 years old. It’s quite normal for things to start changing in one’s body at that age, but I would have none of that normal stuff. No, indeed. It was all the big, bad farm’s fault.
 

Before moving to the farm, I always slept on my side. Always. Sometime after getting settled in my new home, there were many months while some strange pain made it impossible for me to lie on my side. I had never slept on my back before, but my hips were so achy, I was forced to learn how to sleep in this new position. My mom told me she went through the same type of experience with her hips, but that wasn’t good enough for me. My thought: “Farm living. This is ridiculous.” Fortunately, months and months later, the night finally arrived when I could lie on my hips again. Now I’m able to sleep on either side or my back, so I can toss and turn to my heart’s content.
 

Speaking of my back, when I was younger, I thought it was one of my best features. I remember looking at bathing suits, always choosing one that displayed my back to its best advantage. This is no longer the case. First, being older, I’m not wild about choosing any bathing suit. Second, since coming to the farm, my back often has some sort of little bumps on it. They aren’t bug bites and when I brought them to my doctor’s attention, she said it didn’t appear to be a rash and was nothing to worry about. Okay, I don’t worry about it, but whatever it is, it’s aggravating. When I have an itch, I naturally reach around to scratch it and, in so doing, scratch off a bump. “Oh, crap! Now I’m bleeding!”
 

Sinus problems, hay fever, and various other allergic reactions were never a problem for me, and I always thanked God for that blessing. However (you guessed it), since living on the farm, I notice that I cough and complain of a stuffy head way too often. Wouldn’t you know, I read that it’s not uncommon for allergies and sinus problems to become more prevalent as one gets older. Not only was I getting older, but the farm had introduced a whole new world of junk to my system - hay, weeds, pollen, cats - so it shouldn’t have been surprising that my body had some adjusting to do. But I had to blame someone or something, right? So I blamed the farm. “Grrr. This lousy farm. Now I have allergies? Sheeesh.”
 

“My shins are always black and blue from these stupid work boots.”
“Why do I bother mopping the floor or dusting? This farm is so old and dirty, I might as well let the house fall into ruin along with the rest of the place.”
“I was never grumpy before I came to the farm.”
 

One of my all-time favorite sayings from Haiti just popped into my head: “Se pa fot mwen.” Interpretation: “It’s not my fault.” Drop an egg on the floor and  the acceptable response is, “It’s not my fault. If the floor weren’t so hard, the egg wouldn’t have broken.” Had this Haitian phrase slyly settled into my heart?  Ha! Blame Haiti. Blame the floor. Blame the farm. Blame the rain, the snow. Blame your boss, your husband or wife or kids.
 

You’re probably beginning to get my drift … and I was beginning to drift into a very negative state of mind, not recognizing how skewed my perspective had become. I read somewhere that we’re naturally conditioned to have a bias for the negative. I don’t know if it’s true, but negativity was certainly making its presence known.
 

Luke 6:27 in The Message (a contemporary version of the Bible) says, “Love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst.” I was surprised when I read that verse, because it dawned on me that I was seeing the farm as my enemy. (Not the people on the farm - they are fabulous!) The farm was bringing out the worst in me and had become the scapegoat for my bad attitude. In essence, I was blaming the farm for being a farm.
 

After reading that verse, I stopped and asked myself, “How can I let the farm bring out the best in me, rather than the worst?” I pictured my dilemma as being the two sides of a coin. First, there’s the blame side. To blame means to find fault with or to hold someone or something responsible for. The examples I recounted above show that I had the blame side down pat. Guilty, as charged.
 

On the flip side of the coin, there’s acceptance and praise. To accept is to receive willingly, to endure without protest or reaction, or to make a favorable response to.  Praise means to say good things about, express approval, or make a favorable judgment of someone or something. Youch! That’s pretty painful. 
 

Acceptance. This side of the coin didn’t come so easily, especially when I saw what the word really means. I have to accept the fact that the farm is messy and I’m getting older. At the same time, I must change my perspective so that I can respond favorably to growing old on the farm.
 

I made the bold decision that blame is not an option. I don’t toss a coin to see if I should blame or praise in any given situation. I imagine the coin affixed to my forehead with the praise/accept side showing. Silly, I know, but it works for me. 
 

You’ve probably heard, “If God brings you to it, he’ll bring you through it.” To me, that means I can accept what each day brings and determine to be and do my best through it all. If I’m grumpy, I recognize my grumpiness without blaming it on anyone or anything else. Chores are getting me down? There’s no sense in blaming the cows. I will do my chores and do them well, and, in the process, I imagine how much better the cows will feel when they’re rid of all that milk. A pigeon just crapped on my head? Yes, a pigeon actually crapped on my head when I was feeding a calf last night. No problem. Actually, I saw it as a problem while Pat laughed. Only later did she tell me that some people see this as good luck, so, after the fact, I tried to see it as a blessing. Key word: tried.
 

The blame game. Don’t play it. There are no winners. Adjusting my perspective to see something praiseworthy in even the yuckiest situations isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it.

***

Thanks for taking the time to read. I'd love to hear your feedback.

In a Nutshell

I just realized my blog has suffered from lack of attention in the past couple of months. Poor thing. So, I've decided to look over my online journal from 2014 (in which I "meditated" my way through Psalms and Proverbs) and share a little nugget of wisdom from each month.

January 1, 2014: I'm trying to picture me going outside every day, finding a spot to sit (or stand) for a few minutes, and trying to capture with words what I see, hear, or feel in those moments. My purpose would be to simply slow down and savor the moment - be fully in the moment. I guess I could do that in the house, also. - To delight in the Lord's perfections - To meditate in his temple (from Psalm 27). (Did I do that? No, but it sounds good, doesn't it?)

February 1, 2014: Psalm 93:1b states, "The world stands firm and cannot be shaken." We might experience its quaking and fear that California will fall into the ocean, but when we know the bigger story, we don't have to fear. This, of course, is true not only for the physical earth, but for all that is happening in the spirit world - in our hearts and minds.

March 3, 2014: I have never given up anything for Lent, but this year I'm thinking, oh ... maybe ... how about housework?! (Actually, I gave up cookies.)

April 3, 2014: (Are you ready for a long one? I can't resist sharing Psalm 23.)
The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need. (ahh. relax)
He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. (ahh. relax)
He renews my strength. (as I rest and let the peaceful streams speak to me)
He guides me along the right paths, bringing honor to his name. (God is in control, and what I am going through is bringing honor to him.)
Even when I walk through the darkest valley (remember, God is in control)
I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. (ahh. relax)
Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. (I'm safe in God's care)
You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. (not just enough, but a feast!)
You honor me by anointing my head with oil, (why in the world would God honor me?!)
My cup overflows with blessings. (not just a few, but overflowing!)
Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, (God's love, mercy, grace, forgiveness, protection, honor, supply, peace ... chasing after me!!)
and I will live in the house of the Lord forever. (This is where I will live - in God's love & protection - right here, right now, and forever.)

May 8, 2014: A quote from After God's Own Heart by Mike Bickle. "We nibble on so many meaningless things that our hunger for meaningful things gets lost like a single piece of confetti in a ticker-tape parade." He is speaking of Mary and Martha and how there is "one thing" that is needed. We have to get back to the "one thing."

June 3, 2014: I had to smile as I read over the list of the enemies that were facing David (Psalm 22): fierce bulls, roaring lions, a pack of dogs, an evil gang. I know I shouldn't smile, because that's just how I feel when things aren't going my way. My battles are mostly in my head; David and so many others around the world, in every age battled against actual enemies. The cure? Lord, YOU are my strength. YOU brought me to birth. YOU listen to my cries for help.

July 12, 2014: Psalm 100 - A great psalm to begin the day or to read in the middle of the day or to end the day. It's an open invitation to a come-as-you-are celebration

• shout with joy
• worship with gladness
• come singing with joy
• acknowledge the Lord
• enter with thanksgiving and praise
• give thanks

Why would I do this - morning, noon, and night and any given moment in between? Because the Lord is good! His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation!

August 11, 2014: Psalm 69. What a life David lived. I wallow in crap, but he had every reason for his "whining." Flood waters up to his neck, sinking in the mire, no foothold, overwhelming floods - this is what life felt like to David! Is this what life felt like for Jesus? And perhaps it isn't so strange that I feel like life on the farm has beaten me up. (Choosing against "wallowing" is a continuing effort.)

September 11, 2014: Psalm 103. The wind blows, and we are gone -- as though we had never been here (v16). BUT the love of the Lord remains forever. Throughout the psalms I've noticed that all-important part of speech (conjunction?): BUT. Here it is. This is what I think, see, or feel ... BUT! God interrupts our physical bodies, our thoughts, emotions, memories, expectations, dreams, and idiosyncrasies. God interrupts the world! This is not forever, but God is.

October 1, 2014: Proverbs 1. Do wisdom and discipline naturally lead us to the fear of the Lord? I don't think worldly, human wisdom and discipline can do it. If I were more disciplined in my daily life here on the farm, would I be wiser and fearing the Lord better? What does that even mean? Is it more about spiritual discipline rather than following a to-do list for the day? Oh, let me stop with the questions. (By the way, my questions never stop.)

November 2014: I didn't do my online journal during November, because I was spending the whole month online with National Novel Writing Month.

So, for a smile, here's my note from October 31: A worthy wife is a crown for her husband (Proverbs 12:4). I hope I am a crown for Weldon. I "do" a lot (or, profess to doing a lot, much of which he probably doesn't care about), but is that what this verse is talking about? Do I support him, believe in him, encourage him? Yes, I do! And because he loves me as I am, I think I'm a crown :) Do I love him as he is? I'm learning :) Thank God, I'm learning.

December 29, 2014: Proverbs 29. "Fools vent their anger, but the wise quietly hold it back" (v11). Even the wise can be angry! My thoughts immediately went to that day when I blew up at Weldon for commenting on the dying houseplants and trying to be helpful. My response? "Mind your own damn business!" Later, even though we had to laugh, I saw how foolish my outburst was. Everyone gets angry, but it's the fool who lets it rip. Verse 20: "There is more hope for a fool than for someone who speaks without thinking."

So, there's my year in a nutshell. I hope your year has been as delightful (and nutty) as mine! Here is our hope and assurance for the New Year 2015:

For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD

as the waters cover the sea.
Habakkuk 2:14

Frankie and Felipe

Some years ago we had a mama cat who kept her babies hidden for so long that they were almost impossible to tame. I couldn't get close enough to tell if they were male or female, but they needed names. My younger daughter suggested Fred and Ginger, and the names stuck. Later, realizing they were both female, I changed Fred to Freddie. (I had a girlfriend in high school whose nickname was Freddie, so it worked for me.)

It was a long, slow process, but I could finally pet both Freddie and Ginger - on their terms, and only briefly, of course. They were always loners and never integrated with the other cats or even hung out together. Each went her own way.

I fed Freddie by herself, in the granary, every morning and evening. This spring, I was pretty certain she had had babies, but, no matter how I searched, I was never able to find them. Then one morning, there they sat, in full view, just looking at me.

Finally getting my hands on the little darlings, I "ascertained" they were both female and named them Frankie (on the left) and Felicia. My, they were wild little things. Petting them when I could or grabbing them when they weren't expecting it, I did my best to tame them. In the "grabbing" process, I found out that Felicia was a male. He is now Felipe.

One morning, having captured Felipe, I noticed he had a hole on the underside of his neck. Yes, a bald patch with quite a large hole down to and into his flesh! I showed him to Weldon and he thought perhaps it was one of those weird worms that are in (or can get into?) an animal and work their way out. Ick. Don't ask me. I don't want to know any more about it, even though I've seen it.

So! Taking matters into my own hands, I once again called on Farnam's Blue Lotion. (See my first experience with Blue Lotion here.

I daubed it on Felipe's neck and, as often as I could get my hands on him, applied it again. It worked in more ways than one: his neck healed perfectly and he became my friend.

Freddie (on the left) and her babies eat outside the granary now.

Freddie, Frankie, and Felipe would sit on the steps of the granary, waiting for their food. After a while, that wasn't good enough for Felipe. He'd run down the road to meet me, and I'd stop to pet him. Pretty soon, Frankie joined in the race with Mama Freddie bringing up the rear at a more matronly pace. I'd stoop down and pet Felipe, but when I reached out to Frankie, she'd scoot ahead a few steps. Then she'd stop and wait for me. I'd bend down and she'd scoot away. She wanted the same love and affection but wasn't quite brave enough to stay put. Silly girl.

But now? The race is on! Every morning and evening they fly down the road like the wind to greet me, and I can pet both of them and pick them up and hug them. I would have never believed it possible!

I love my kitty cats! Our kitty cats!

P.S. We have five adorable gray kitties still waiting for their forever home. Do, Re (the only male), Mi, Fa, and So (So slow. She was always the last to come when we called). Anyway, we can't tell them apart, thus their strange names. They all look like this one (except they're a little bigger now):

Let me know how many you want.