Good Sunday morning! Cool 69* here! Open windows, and I went to put on a robe. A summer weight robe, but one all the same. Perfect weather, because I’m still bare-footin’. No breeze, not a ripple of a tree leaf, peaceful and quiet, except for a very noisy scolding squirrel, who appears quite upset about something. He should be upset. Yesterday evening I was standing under a pecan tree and got hit in the head by a piece of pecan shell. Broken pecan shells litter the ground beneath the trees, the squirrels getting what few nuts the old trees have produced this year.
The sun’s golden rays paint the trees far across the pasture, and the tip-top of this old pecan tree. A new day stretches. Another 24 hours of my life. What will I do with it? I know one thing–no work. I’m a workaholic and have to be stern with myself on this issue. There’s just so much to be done around here, and I find myself saying, “Oh, I’ll just clean up this…” Today none of that. Today is only Fun! Well, I do have fun working.
Then I think of this quote by the late great author Reynold’s Price: “Strength just comes in one brand – you. Stand up at sunrise and meet what they send you and keep your hair combed.”
The quote gives me a smile. My hair is very often uncombed, and I’m often kneeling or sitting at sunrise, but I’m standing up on the inside, and there’s nothing else to do but meet what the day sends.
Sending love to all.
Good Sunday morning! Sun full up when I arrive on the porch this morning. It paints the tops of the pecan trees and the pasture beyond the drive a happy, hopeful yellow. Crickets singing…oh, and there start the cicadas. The air is lovely now, a pleasant 73*, but the forecast is for 90, and the cicadas are calling the news. There’s the funniest sounding bird making a scolding sound. Miss Kitty slips past, eye on me, then runs, because since Friday and a vet visit, I’ve been grabbing her to put ointment in her ears and a pill down her throat. Punk is unconcerned. He’s the sort who weathers all.
We’ve had a grand visit with my brother and sister-in-law the past four days. They leave today, but a fixed computer, knowledge of fun online puzzles, laughter and sharing and memories remain.
I’ve learned that we get to choose the memories we hold on to. Best to hold on to the good ones and let go the painful, sort of like sorting out gems, I guess. Keep the priceless, let go of the worthless, and you become rich. And yes, it can all go in a book, and very often does in mine.
My novels really do come from my life. The events do not look the same, but the writing comes out of the feelings I’ve experienced in the events of my own life. I still recall a telephone call from a neighbor who was reading my novel, Driving Lessons. Through sobs she related how her father had left the family in the same way Charlene’s husband had left in the novel. She thanked me for writing, because after all these years, she was able to remember her feelings, look at them, grieve and let go. She was at the time in her 70s. The novel writing is a way for me to see things and figure out my own life, and through the mystery of connection other people can do the same.
Have a blessed day!
Cicadas just started singing, signaling heat to come. The oppressive heat and humidity is lifted at present, though, and there’s a sense of energy, as if all the trees and birds and bugs are a bit eager for the day. And the ‘twit-twit’ birds seem to flit through the air faster than ever, over here, then over there, so fast I cannot see them. Oh, there’s a song bird calling out, a new one I have not heard before. And while I’ve written this, the light has grown so that I can see all the way across the pasture now.
Makes me aware of how nature moves on in constant cycles and seasons that are ever-evolving. I’m evolving, too, no matter that oftentimes I am frustrated to find myself right back in some sort of poor habit I so dislike, such as reacting with anger, rather than responding with love. Did that yesterday a couple of times, to my regret. Reacting brings only frustration, never does solve anything. But I’m greatly cheered when I think of my evolving. I have changed and mellowed over the years, and reacting is less and less, and loving more and more.
It’s very cheering to think, too, that each morning is a new day to let go of yesterday and start again. Or that I can press restart any time during the day. A new page, a new chapter. Just restart and never stop restarting.
Gotta run on that restart thing. Lots to do today. Sending love to you all!
Start wherever you are and start small. -Rita Baily