It's been busy!

Oh August! It would appear that the month of Leo will consistently bless us with the fullness of life. We've filled the last remaining "free" days of warm (read hot) weather with birthday parties, pool parties and birthday-pool parties. We've stayed up late around the firepit just because we know our mornings of sleeping late are numbered. We met Emagene's new teacher, shopped for school supplies and planned a fall vacation. We went to a few museums, started a new dance class, added soccer into our weekly lives again and made plans to head back to the pool once we get this school schedule thing under our belts. We got the kids passports and have planted the seed of a long boat trip and swimming with dolphins into their imaginations. But as our sleep patterns struggle to adjust and little bodies keep growing, I have had to put you, dear reader, on the back burner. I am sorry! I do so enjoy sharing tiny treasures of my life with you. I am full with my own learning agenda and the promise of weekly solo time! Mommy alone time is a family need that gets lost in the fullness of summer. It's the little things that refill me and keep my head from exploding as I go through life here in this strange land of Texas (who just voted to change the school history books to align with Republican Party agenda. *sigh*). On a brighter note: the Harvest Moon has visited. My favorite time of year! I will now go eat a moon cake and thank the autumn rains for their blessings, among other moments of thankfulness.

The harvest season is upon us. What are you thankful for?

Blessed Solstice

I was busy enjoying nature and nurturing relationships on the day, but better late then never. May you have a blessed solstice and enjoy this season as the sun wanes and the shorter days of winter approach. 

Blessed Be/Namaste

Cycles of life

Driving to the airport where Pete works takes us through acres of livestock pasture, and past a shooting range (naturally), leaving a 1940 bungalow style farmhouse as the last piece of civilian life before hitting the Tarmac. A month or so ago, I got my only glimpse of the people living in the farmhouse. I witnessed an older man taking out the trash. He was hunched over, walking with a cane and dragging his red radio flyer wagon behind him loaded down with trash bags. 

I smiled. The driveway is easily a few hundred yards and here he was creatively conquering his bodily signs of aging. I went through that day feeling empowered.

Last weekend, I notice the yard between the farmhouse and the outbuilding/carport was full of furniture. My first thought was: "family reunion? Early Easter picnic on a 75F+ day in April?" But then I noticed the estate sale sign. My heart sank a little. Just a few weeks ago, I assume The Man of The House was inspiring me with his determination to keep living fully. Apparently that was his last hurrah working on his cattle ranch. Either that, or the tornado damaged the place enough a fixed income couple needn't to move, but I'm assuming things.

I wish my weekend had not been booked solid and I could have meandered through that sale and daydreamed of what the life of the inhabitants had been like; Seen relics from the years between the house construction and the airport's invention. But no matter, I'm still inspired to live fully in this body until it simy can't function any more. I wish them peace as they move to the next phase of their existence.

Three little birds

With the return of the sun and the ever earlier dawn, I usually wake a little grumbly and wanting to go back to sleep. Since trimming the hedge outside my bedroom window a little too close to Momma Cardinal's nest, which houses two almost-featherless babies, I now wake a little relieved. The hungry chirps of these tiny babies are getting louder and stronger. They are surviving. The parents did not abandon them as I feared since my human scent was a little close and the sun was a little too unfiltered. The branch I tied back on seems to distract the passing hawks just enough to keep their focus on the hiding chickens.

I know some of you will think I'm crazy, but just after realizing what I did and seeing the momma in distress and crying for her mate to come assess the situation, I did my very best to make eye contact with her; to calmly make a telepathic plea for forgiveness for my mistake; to ensure her I meant no harm and that if she was going to abandon the babies I would take care of them. Within 10 minutes the parents had assessed the nest and returned with food for the babies. I have sense seen her snuggling the chicks during a cold morning and have heard their tiny chirps repeatedly as we've seen Daddy Cardinal fly away from the nest in search of more food.

This tiny interaction, almost meaningless to some, has reinforced my belief that we are all connected; that what I do affects other beings. If I hadn't tried to reach out to them in peace, as you would a lost puppy, who knows how these two chicks would've faired. Admitting faults and taking responsibility for our own actions is important, no matter who is involved. Apologize, even if it was an accident, and you may calm a hurt soul and stop the spread of negativity.

Teach your children how to graciously admit fault and even more graciously forgive others; only then will our country find away to a point of healing.

Holiday Cheer

You hear these stories all the time around the holidays. Stories of giving and compassion. I don't know about you, but I always hope that something I do or say at any point of the year has these sort of repercussions while half wondering if these tales are even true. Most humans don't randomly help each other without expecting something, so when we hear of people doing just that it's inspiring. I never dreamt that I would be at the receiving end of the moving holiday story. Today, I suddenly found myself in exactly this spot.

I'm getting ready or another weekend trip for work. It's a 250 mile drive each way, requiring me to be gone at least 2 nights. This is tough on the household, but the bills require it. The day before leaving, I typically get caught up on house work, laundry, clean the coop and the litter box, walk the dog, make sure the fridge is stocked and library materials have been borrowed or renewed. This time it also requires an oil change before the long drive.

Funds are tight. The cost of car repairs sneaks up on those of us living paycheck to paycheck. An oil change can be budgeted for. 3 new tires cannot.

So there we are, Emagene and I, early on Tuesday morning waiting for the lovely mechanics to change the oil and rotate the tires. Being in a friendly bunch, we chatted with a middle-aged woman also waiting on her car. We shared holiday craft ideas, silly stories about my chickens and her horses, talked about the differences between the pudget sound and the panhandle of Oklahoma, the silliness that brings communities together and a variety of other pleasantries.

The customer service rep came over and whispered to me that I desperately need 3 tires. They are separating, showing the wires and beyond bald. I whisper to him that I need to drive to Tulsa the next day and won't have money until after the gig is finished. He mentions looking to see if he has some used ones and disappears.

I didn't think anything of it, but the lady had gotten up while the mechanic and I were chatting about tires. They both left the room. I suddenly knew what was happening. As I was texting my husband about our plans to get me to work safely (involving epoxy and super glue) this lady (who's name i never got) was purchasing our tires. The mechanic came back to see if I had time to wait since the tires were at a different location and told me I was not to worry about the money. I asked what he meant (fully knowing what had just happened) and he simply said: just don't worry about it.

With that, I teared up, texted Pete back and tried, in vain, to find a way to appropriately thank the lady who clearly wanted to remain anonymous.

Thank you, un-named, retired preschool teacher, who had to sell her miniature horse when her husband's job relocated them to north Dallas. May you have a blessed season and coming year!

May you, reader of this blog, find a way to bless others not because this is the season of giving, but simply from a place of love. And may those blessing flow back to you one day.