Surrender, swim and smile

As I wrote to a friend this morning, and began the thought process of what might flow here this early morning..., (a friend who just came back from a glorious trip and found?) I'm waiting to sit down at her table and absorb- soon. But first- I have so much to do...with money. I have a contractor building a room in my shed to fill the needs of a simple soul who needs a home, she has found one. And I have found in her a pioneer spirit, willing to help out on the farm-win win, good use of moola. Insurance company- car totaled 4 weeks ago today, fella ran a stop sign, daughter in the wrong place at the wrong time- guess who's paying out the wahzoo for that one? Poor use of time and energy and the almighty buckaroos. And finally- the lawyers. Leeches. If I ever need an attorney again, I shall check for a pulse (a lesson?) I did not do that, I trusted in their representation-but I assure you, it was not me or my interests they represented. (A LESSON!) Yep, next time I will definately check for that pulse, maybe even bring a nurse along- no pulse- no heart. So- as of yesterday, my birthday- I let some things go, and some things- I let come. Surrender, swim and smile. That about sums up that mess. Oh, and yes- I did fly a bit too.
Emma, Mathew, and Lily took me out to dinner, an italian restaurant there in Springfield(Palermos-wonderful). Even the fine glass of wine I had could not fade out the knowledge that my children and I are years apart in entertainment. Oh, we had fun and with great joy I spent the dinner hour with them, but that hour continued on into another-and much like as they were when children in church- the little monkeys appeared. Aren't teenagers wonderful? Oh they tried their best to be respectable, really they did. But over an hour of goodness and manners wore on their little monkey souls- they could not contain the apes inside and out they came. And the zoo keeper in me came out too- they had already been fed, how else could I keep these monkeys of mine appeased? Eat quicker, get out the door into the car and aaaarrrrgggghhhh! The magic of my special day had worn off-they no longer cared if I liked the music on the radio-their democracy of 3 against 1 took control. I'm a year older, I tire easier, I was stuffed and could not bear to part with much more energy...so I listened. I'm smiling now, but I assure you-the long ride home was a reallllllly long ride home...
All in all, a most wonderful day- took myself out to lunch, read the book "The Razor's Edge" drank a margarita, tipped my sweet waitress big, she was a jewel. Went to JC Penneys, shopped for lingerie! Never in my life have I parted with money so foolishly, felt nervous and silly, thought the world was just over my shoulder- looking at the panties in my hand! But...it felt good too, who knew a farm chick like me could feel so girl like, so feminine, so sexy....yep, I did. (But I left the tags on everything, just in case- )still, I'll try them out- those girly things, who knows? Maybe I am more woman than even I ever knew (or cared to admit?!)!
Out in the fields with my bibs on, my hair up, my leather work gloves on, shoveling manure and wearing intimate apparel? Oh, too funny- I'd giggle at myself all day, don't see nothin' wrong with that! Hey- do they make sexy long underwear? Thermal thongs? Just wonderin'-
Take care dears-
T

Blanket White Everything

An e.e. cummings kind of title, I write like that you know-an in way an out way and all around the words way. A full spectrum if you will, of words. It was suppose to snow here last night, I was prepared, and giddy and a bit melancholy...in reference to the "Blanket White Everything"- first snow is purity, a covering, an insulation. Though it did not snow, I suspect it will as my sinuses often react dully to barometric changes, and the chickens were all gathered in a mobile bunch. My butterscotch girls give me eggs everyday, no artificial lighting for my birds, no! I just talk to them, they are my production team so I try to stay on top of their chicken coop politics. I have one old gal that stays on the nest just long enough to
to give me hell when I reach in to collect the brood of eggs under her. I admire her tenacity, though I do not like her pecking and clucky aggression. She scares me and she knows it. I mean-a butterscotch bird with a brain no bigger than the eggs she lays, but she stands up to my minor annoyance with the threatening attitude of a wolverine, yikes-I could never do a reality show on my little farm-I fear the main idea that people would hold onto is that chickens are really meat eaters (given a chance, this one takes chunks out of me!) and that I am not at all as plucky as I seem. And, well...I don't watch TV all that much and the only reality of those shows is the world will suffer fools, call it entertainment, stack their own experiences up against the show and belittle the story. The reality of most lives, I think-we do our best, our lives are like quilts with many peices stitched together, circumstances in life can rip us apart, but being the sole seamstresses, we find ways to mend our tattered blankets, sometimes offering a covering for others who are not quite experts at stitching yet. Or unable to pull it all together to even begin to mend, some have no thread at all, for them, the most calico among us-we offer assistance, well, we should anyway. Sorry for the analogy-drives my kids insane! This is why I write, to drive my teens crazy and to well, display my beautiful quilt, though worn and quite tattered...and wrap it around them in such a way that they might learn the stitches of life...the ins and outs and all around thread that connects us all. And if I may quote the great Paul Harvey, "Good day!"
Take care