The skies have been beautiful lately. As the year starts to chill into mid-winter, the evenings fade into shades of pink and lavender. The other day was a lovely purply-to-blue sunset.
This evening, the clouds took up the hue.
Our housing future has been looking a bit cloudy. We had another open house last Saturday. There didn’t seem to be anyone who put an offer in, but an investor from the first open house did…twice. Both offers were refused. This Monday we got our notice to leave. It seems the owner wants us out anyway. We’ve looked at one place so far, which looked good online. It…was not. There are others bookmarked, so we’ll see how that goes 🙂
In the meantime… we wait. And trust. And probably, at some point, pack.
But the moon still rises, bright in the purple blue.
And the sun throws out its fire, as it leaves for another day.
Whatever the day, there is always hope in the world.
The beginning of last week was great! I did stuff. I even did more stuff! And then my body said, “No.”
Somewhere towards the end of the week fatigue whacked me over the head, and I’ve been trying to sleep/rest enough to replenish. I’m glad I did all the stuff last week 😀 Just might have been a bit more than my recuperating self was expecting! 😆
So, the boys are in varying stages of recovery from the “virus-that-has-no-name”. And my Babe started coughing Friday morning, and stayed in bed for a couple of days. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have caught what we had. Or he just heals really quick…
Today was a new day. Yay! I still needed to sit and rest. But I also managed the washing, and my share of the cleaning/dishes. Double yay!
In my sit-down-before-I-fall-down time I read some Mary Oliver. Then I put my headphones on, closed my eyes, and listened to a CD I picked up a few weeks ago ($1 at a charity shop!)
Here are two poems that sang to me. And two songs that spoke to my (weary) heart.
I Worried Mary Oliver
I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it? Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, can I do better? Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia? Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.
How Would You Live Then? Mary Oliver
What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in circles around your head? What if the mockingbird came into the house with you and became your advisor? What if the bees filled your walls with honey and all you needed to do was ask them and they would fill the bowl? What if the brook slid downhill just past your bedroom window so you could listen to its slow prayers as you fell asleep? What if the stars began to shout their names, or to run this way and that way above the clouds? What if you painted a picture of a tree, and the leaves began to rustle, and a bird cheerfully sang from its painted branches? What if you suddenly saw that the silver of water was brighter than the silver of money? What if you finally saw that the sunflowers, turning toward the sun all day and every day – who knows how, but they do it – were more precious, more meaningful than gold?
a bit of creativity, a bit of eco consciousness, a bit of inspiration.... hopefully not a lot of pompousness and blathering :D
i'm not entirely sure what's going on here... let's travel along and see...
1000 Fields of Roses 