Solutions

IMG_2248

I have this unreasonable dislike of dirty windows. However, I also have a completely reasonable dislike of cleaning them. So I suffer. I know, I know, I should just look through the window, not at them, but I just can’t. I did say I was unreasonable.

Anyhow, I have now come up with a solution that does not involve solutions of the squeaky clean kind, I have discovered the loveliness of window stickers.

They give the window an additional dimension, and along with the accumulated haze, create an illusion in my mind that I am inside a dream, and the outside over there does not exist. 😌 and how completely reasonable and necessary it is, to be able to escape now and then……….

Ps. Perhaps I should include that this is also a good excuse solution for not taking down the holiday decorations 😏

Standard

The Culprit

IMG_3696

The vines mysteriously died and the pumpkins were left to fend for themselves. Obviously not all of them made it to maturity 😑

Well today I suspect the culprit has been found…….hum 🙄

IMG_2306

But who can blame her? That fence was enough to stop the challenged chickens, but no way was it keeping out a rogue rabbit 😝

c’est la vie

There is always next year to grow the giantest pumpkin in world!!!!

Standard

IMG_1306

25

Image

image1

❤️

Image

Control

Giving up things one enjoys as an attempt the regain control……hum?

Anthony at the Recovering Legalist wrote a post which had much to ponder. I am not sure if I can apply the need to atone to myself, but the need for control, absolutely.

I had not really considered my frequent withdrawals from my blogging as a bid for control in an unstable life, however with just a wee bit of processing I can see it.

For it is at my most desperate of moments that I panic and go on a deleting rampage.

Those desperate times when I am floundering around looking for a rescue, which I know will never arrive, are the times that I pull in close and stop everything I can. What is that other than an attempt to feel in control of  something, anything, even at a loss of innocent pleasure.

So, because all I have is myself. No one to catch me when I fall, no one to lean on during the hard times, no one to help me find some stability in my increasingly unstable life, I need to get out of the fantasy life in my head, which has me looking for a hero, and step up and rescue myself.

How am I going to manage this? Well, I just don’t know. One breath at a time I suppose.

As a side note, no it’s the main note actually, I dismissed the need to atone quite quickly, because Jesus has already done that for me. So I don’t feel the need to punish myself, and somehow I feel it would be diminishing His gift of grace if I did.

For my sins are forgiven me as far as the East is from the West.

Sigh….I love you Lord.

Blessings Belinda

Standard

Chicken Butt Surgery

Yes, you read that right. I am sure my daughter never thought she would sew back on a chicken butt, but she now has thanks to YouTube, and because chickens are just gosh darn ruthless. For one of the new chickens got stuck between two boards in an attempt to get away from the pecking of the established chickens. Unfortunately this left her vulnerable to a vicious attack upon her posterior.

Also, to be honest, there was human error involved, when we forgot we had mixed the little girls with the large ladies so they could get used to each other, and therefore left them unsupervised for too long. There will always be some pecking, but this was too much.

Anyway, poor little Zaboomafoo was left with her tush and tail feathers hanging on by a slim thread of skin, and my grandsons were much distressed. So it was their mama to the rescue. She snatched that chicken up, cleaned the wound, held her tight and sewed her behind back in place. 😳

Well, then she had to isolate her and watch for infection, and it appears that the best way to do this is to lift that chicken up close to your face and sniff around the wound. Hehehe, she never thought she would be doing that either. It didn’t help that the video suggested a diet of scrambled eggs as it would be mild and easy to digest, and chickens do particularly like scrambled eggs. However, this made the sniffing for infection a bit more difficult, because man oh man did that diet of eggs make that chicken stink 😝

Well it was a month or so ago when this episode took place, and Zaboomafoo is doing fine, but this came to my mind tonight because my daughter has sequestered herself in her workshop for the weekend, so it fell to me to put the yard and the animals to bed for the night, and while doing so, I took the opportunity to watch the chickens settling onto the roosting bars for the night. They make it so difficult as they all peck and jockey for their place. Chickens are so stupid. I enjoy them, but I am infinitely glad not to be one.

Oh yes, I should add, if you ever have to practice chicken surgery yourself, my daughter has two tips that were not in the video. Count your stitches and use bright purple thread. Because when you go to remove the stitches, it is particularly nice to know how many you are looking for, and also to be able to see them would have been helpful. She groused to me for days as she kept checking to make sure she’d found them all. That was my contribution, I sympathized 😁

Butt she has made me proud, not everyone has a chicken surgeon for a daughter 😉

❤️Blessings Belinda

Standard

Sadness

image

Yesterday, the deep immovable sadness emerged. I know it is just a chemical malfunction, and I am completely cognizant of the actual sweetness of my life. For I can see the shiny rays of it trying to bend around the blockage. Occasional one will make it round and manage to touch the surface of my being, but they are weakened from the struggle and unable to spark the desire to move.

So I wait.

Not alone.

Not overwhelmed.

For, The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.

How is it possible to be so incredibly sad, and so full of peace and love and joy at the same time?

Standard