Happy Birthday Mama!

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Friday has a different “feel” to it, in months like February, when the school year is in full swing.  It does not have the same affect in the summer months. By the time the wild honeysuckle vines are clambering up the woodland trees, I often have lost all track of what day it is.   . .but oh, in February, Friday means something.  If I stay at the rabbitpatch on the weekend, I do not cook supper and I abandon chores too.  . .at least on Friday night.  

Today was warm and a slight breeze blew, tenderly.  I feel much younger, than I really am, on such days.  I have no idea why,  but I always do. Sometimes, there is just no “rhyme or reason” for  things.    The spirea continues to proceed with great haste .  It blooms now – because it can, in this  “mock spring”, by a little shed, near the edge of the woods.  I painted the shed a watery shade of blue, years  ago.  The shed has never been used much, but the original owner, wrote his name and the year in the cement floor. . .and so I kept the shed, for no other reason.  Years later I planted the spirea.  There is a grave there of a dog -a collie who was beloved and was a companion to the original family, according to Miss Sylvia, who is now, also passed.  The spirea almost shades his resting place now. 

On Saturday morning, I woke to the sound of a light rain.  If the sun shines and the warm temperatures remain, I suppose that peach tree will bloom, shortly.  I did not spring from bed, as only a week day  warrants that.  I lingered instead, in the good fortune of a soft blanket and a loyal dog sleeping by my feet.  The rain fell gently, without a hint of malice.  How wonderful to wake without a sense of rush and obligation, I thought. 

 I eventually had coffee and read a beautiful article on forgiveness, which I took to heart.  There were things to do but all were some of my favorites.  We gather tomorrow, for Mamas’  birthday celebration and so I had some cooking to do.   I also had some housekeeping  to do.  I believe in equal pay for women and fair treatment, but I would be a poor representative of the current movement, for I am so content cooking and cleaning.  I wish I had time to bake on a Tuesday as I used to.  I have a domestic old fashioned heart and tending to babies may always be the most satisfying work I have ever done.  Above all else, on this earth . . .I love “hearth and home.” 

I also plan to practice my calligraphy today. I suppose, this is becoming a lost art and not nearly as useful as it was years ago, but I like it and practicing is as peaceful a project as I know of.  I will also  study edible flowers.  I have used violets and pansies for years on cakes and in salads, but there is a much broader spectrum of choices. . .besides I always devote myself to studying flowers in February-and neither calligraphy nor gardening should yield  anything, but plenty of inspiration. 

Last weekend, as I have written, was very busy.  Jenny was hurrying to get the little girls dressed and I looked at Will and winked, for I knew full well, that Jenny could not be bothered to think about supper.  I think about supper the night before, but Jenny is likely to make a decision just an hour before the meal.  I knew there were a lot of us and we would all certainly  be hungry, by supper, for we always are – so I mustered the courage to ask.  Just as I expected, Jenny replied sharply that she couldn’t think about that at the moment.  Will and I grinned .  Then Will and Jenny mentioned my lack of planning for anything -except meals.  I defended myself by saying I do plan.  Will laughed aloud as he is  always chiding me about my lack of financial planning.  He said “What do you plan?” and I answered  “gardens”.  Will said good naturedly “well, there’s that”.  ( I also plan for Christmas and to prove it, my “Christmas closet” is not empty at this moment . . .but I did not mention that.)

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Since, I would be busy in the kitchen, I had the notion to clean out the refrigerator.  I keep the refrigerator very tidy, for every Thursday, I go through the contents, but how every tray and shelf in the thing, needs to be washed, is beyond my wildest imagination.  Next, I inspected the kitchen cabinets and to my dismay, they also needed attention.  All the while, the rain fell and the stove top was full of simmering pots.  . .and I was “happy as a lark”. 

It was well past seven and the  world was pitch dark when I finished in the kitchen. I do not know when it got dark, nor when it got cold.

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I slept soundly, which is a benefit of work-and then it was morning.  Today was Mamas’ birthday party.  I knew of several households that, like me, had things to do.  I had finished the most of my cooking yesterday, but you can not make cornbread ahead of time -and so there was that to do.  I had done laundry yesterday, but had piled everything on the kitchen table, so there was that to do as well.  Still, I had ample time to collect my thoughts in the chilly morning moments.  A few of the winter birds sang just as light came to the day.  The countryside was still and silent, other than that.  There is never much traffic and  country dogs do not bark like the ones in town do.  Well, if a country dog barks, you best go see why.   . .at least that is the case here.

There is something about morning that is holy to me.  Once, chores are started or a television is turned on or a phone rings . . .well, such things seem to break the spell.  Each day and night can hold sacred times, but for me it is the morning, most of all.  It is for this reason, that I rise so early, especially on the days I work.   I first take in to account my dreams, which mostly come in flashes.  I pray next and I like to write in the morning, for that is when all sorts of thoughts seem to ascend upon me.  By now, I am drinking coffee.  There is such a  purity  present in the first hours -and truths seem more evident, upon my waking.  Even the sorrows of yesterday  “get put in their place” in the morning.  The night , seemingly, having stolen,  at least, some of their fierce thunder.

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The birthday dinner was at one o’clock.  I went early to fry the cornbread there.  It was a smaller gathering than usual, as several family members were out of town.  We were not short on food though.  Mama ought to not to have to cook for two days, as we left her well stocked. 

She is hoping Daddy will take her out to eat anyway . . .and I bet he will.

 

Happy Birthday Mama!

 

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28 thoughts on “Happy Birthday Mama!

  1. Happy Birthday to your Momma from Missisippi. Goodness…she looks so young. I can say that because she is close to my age. It’s all in the mind….age.
    Early to bed…early to rise. We have so much in common. Rain and more rain in the coming days, but the flowers are thinking about making their appearence. We take what we get and might as well be thankful for it.
    ps…have you had any contact from Cob. Chicken and I are concerned. I did send her an email about my Etsy store and maybe she is busy making something cute and wonderful like the donkey. One of the assisted living places here is in ‘lockdown’ from the flue..Stay well dear…love you

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  2. Happy Birthday to your Mamma! She looks amazing! ❤
    A really beautiful post to reflect on so many pints that you so beautifully make here… Lovely to hear about your calligraphy hobby and learning about edible flowers!
    At some point when you have lots of time, I would love if you could share some recipes that work well for you for cleaning with natural products such as lemon and vinegar. I am also in the process of minimizing all store bought products as you had mentioned in a previous blog, and I even experimented with making my own shampoos, but I don't have a perfect recipe that works well. for cleaning.
    Any little help we can give mother earth is a worth while effort 🙂
    Thank you dear friend for the ongoing inspiration! How much nicer to plan for a garden than to plan finances, we do what we must, as long as we have time to dream! ❤ Love, Amira

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  3. Happy birthday to your Mamma. I too talk a lot about equal rights and pay for women, but in practice I would not be a good example. ‘Love the heart and home’ that speaks so true to me. No wonder we have become friends across the two opposite sides of the world.

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    1. Dear Uma! I have thought of you and missed you-so very good to see this. Managing a home well is work I do wish that was acknowledged. It is a noble effort and a real service to the family. Low wages make it almost impossible now for a woman to stay at home-so sad. I love you dear friend across the ocean. thank you love Michele

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  4. Happy birthday to your mama 🎂when quit my job I was so afraid to give my daughters a bad sample and must say my mom opposition to my decision didn’t help to ease my doubts but then over time I realized you don’t show your daughters to be independent and the values of equal rights simply going to work.You don loose your identity staying at home at the one condition you keep your head busy,your brain working and you show your offspring g that being a housewife doesn’t mean not use your education or not keeping cultivating yourself.Your job doesn’t define you is who you are that does💗

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