This week, I returned back  to my routine . . . rising early, hanging clothes on the line and pulling grass.   Temperatures are at long last, back to a normal range.  How refreshing to have the mornings almost cool again.  It is dry here, and I am almost out of rainwater.  There is a chance of rain this afternoon.

I am finally at peace with losing my job . . .mostly, at least.  I have not yet been able  , to abandon my concerns about money  . .but , Something is happening . . I have felt a “shift” in my heart, and thus my thoughts. I suppose it was always present, but maybe I was hindered from acting on it — or reluctant.  I am not sure which.  Surely words will fail me, to clearly define what I mean.   I feel  like I have ” come home”  in some sort of way.   It could be  that my attention has been on  what I hold most dear-family and home.

 I also complete my work  in a different fashion.  I do not have to multi task at break neck speed.  Instead I can just peel apples or just fill the birdbath.  When you just  peel apples,  you really smell their sweet scent and notice where the sun kissed them.  When I just fill the birdbath, I notice the tinkling sound of the water andwhat a cheerful song .  Now,  I wander in the yard, and watch the squirrels, born this spring there are four of them- scampering about , playing wildly in the old trees.  Their parents are quite stern and scold them, but it is to no avail.

I have always tried to live mindfully,  ( before it became a popular notion)          – and indulged myself every chance I had, even when the children were young.  To me, personally, it has always been a necessity as my spirit seems to require it .

As a child, my  cousins and  I spent most of our time outside -even at harvest time, there were the walks between the fields and back to the house.  There was hardly ever a ruckus barring the ponies didn’t  escape-or a sudden shower popped up, when clothes were on the line. Our lives   were “quiet and peaceable” .  I don’t know if that spawned my condition, or if  I am just an overly sensitive person with a delicate sense of balance. . .or maybe because I am older now and lack the compromise of my youth.

At any rate, this slower pace of living suits me.   . . and that is a good thing, because the business of being unemployed, and just a bit shy of social security is a tricky place to land in. I have had to ask for help just to fill out, scan and forward the history of my life to all sorts of government offices.  My confidence is shaken by my incompetence, besides losing my job.  So if I am watching squirrels . .. it is understandable.

 August 4th,was my maternal grandmothers’ birthday. Grandmama died suddenly, at the age of 52.  I was ten years old  and had never known a day without her.  It has been over fifty years ago, since I last heard her voice, yet I remember the sound of it. As a child, I saw her as a constant and unwavering source of love, She let us play “dress up” on rainy days.  We read the World Book” Encyclopedias” .  She told us stories . We worked with her. If she wasn’t at the clothes line, or the garden, she was in the kitchen.  She would cook breakfast for a crowd, clean up and start the mid day meal, that we called “dinner”, and for our supper she added something to the left overs from our “dinner”.  Everything was cooked from scratch.  She did not mind me being in her shadow, while she rolled pastry or put a cabbage and potatoes in a whopping pot. Grandmama did not let us get by with “ugly” behavior.

She did not yell about it, but instead simply talked to us about our transgressions til we were truly sorry.  I never wanted to disappoint Grandmama, but I loved to sit on top of that two story barn and look at the pasture and the fields -and would risk it from time to time.

She wore faded “house dresses” every day. They smelled like country air-green and sweet.  She did dress up for grocery shopping. ( We went weekly)  and for  church on  Sundays. . Grandmama was never in any “limelight”.  She simply served her family.  I have no idea what she sacrificed for she never complained.  She always seemed content and took pride in her job of tending to us.

 To  this day, I miss her and  I remain grateful for her profound influence on my life. Slow