Time has a way of passing no matter what. I spend the most of my time with Mama and I am thankful that I can.  Unless Mama has an appointment,  I do not think or even care what day it is nor  the hour .   Instead,  I think long and hard about  a lot of  other subjects.  I can hardly remember sometimes, what I used to think about, before Mama got sick.  I asked myself “why” it took an awful diagnosis to make me really  aware (AGAIN) of what matters most in life. . .our  faith and our loved ones. 

Right now, I am still bewildered . . so is Mama.  I think we both miss ordinary days . .  and thinking ordinary thoughts .  I force myself to mentally, go to pleasant territories,  on every occasion that I can. I watch the birds, full of chatter, these days and  so very busy.  Daddys’ bees are too.  The hive hums  merrily since  the return of warmer days. 

Winter wheat grows where tobacco used too, on the farm that my grandparents tended. It is a lovely thing to watch a wheat field grow.  Every stage of it is beautiful. 

 

 I came home one day, and the little Rabbitpatch looked beautifully uncivilized!  Mounds of very green grass were growing, in forbidden places and dainty little wildflowers were growing as they pleased.  I was delighted!  I felt like I was at a celebration. Of course, the politics of living in town, even a small one, do not abide by such notions  and I knew that I had to quiet this lovely commotion, pretty soon. 

I was bound and determined to hang sheets on the clothesline, while I was home, and so I did. The very next morning, I stood in a patch of sweet clover and bluebells, while I filled my small line.  That was when, I saw a rabbit sitting all still and quiet under the tea olive at the end of the line, where a sheet frolicked in a merry breeze. Hours later, I came out to collect the linens and there again was the rabbit.  This time the rabbit scampered quickly under the little shed that belongs to my neighbor.  Last year a family of rabbits visited  the old cottage on Bonnett Street  daily  (rabbits are rarely seen in this neighborhood.) and so I always left tokens of my affection, under an old oak-carrots, apples etc.  This year I will leave such things under the tea olive. 

I finished, (for now), a project, while I was home.  All of my food, is now stored in glass, with the exception of some canned goods.  I have been working on this for months. The food industry does not make this easy!   Few things come in glass, so I will make  my own condiments and breads and of course, this will be an endless project, but I am committed to it.   . .and how good my pantry and cabinets look! ( I have never been a fan of plastic for food storage- or water.)

  I am also working on a secondhand cabinet, that was given to me.  When, I am finished, it will serve as a linen cabinet. Of course, a cabinet that is for linens, ought to be as pretty as the contents it houses, and so  a simple paint job just won’t do.  There will be roses and shamrocks on it, quite an odd pairing-and maybe a songbird.   I also have four legs, I salvaged from an antique wood kitchen table to attach,  and the boards from that tabletop will become shelves, in my pantry.  I always loved that shackly table, but alas it literally fell apart, after being hauled out of my oldest barn at Farmlife.  I kept it anyway. This is  all  a work in progress and I will work on it when I can.  My house is full of “collected” furniture and each piece has a story.   

I have several more projects in mind for later.

  In the quiet hours at Mamas’ house,  I read and study. 

I am very mindful of what content, I allow  myself to ponder, for one is  in a vulnerable state, when  circumstances are just so gloomy. So, I recite “Loveliest of Trees”  as I have for thirty years now , at “Eastertide”. 

I have rooted cuttings from a forsythia and a quince bush. 

I am studying food fermentation.  The heath benefits are quite impressive.  Right now, I have a small jar of saurkraut on the kitchen counter,- a very small step in my quest , but a step. 

Daddys’bees swarmed this week.  My friend and beekeeper came one night and collected them. How happy I was for my friend and the bees.  This has led to a study of bees.  I want to be a beekeeper one day.

Tomorrow, the family will gather at Mamas” There will be an egg hunt, a brunch and a “Sunday dinner”.  I so hope,that Mama will have a good day.   . .We all do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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it was as if a celebration was taking pls