“A little child…a shining star…a stable rude…the door ajar.

Yet in that place, so crude, forlorn,

The hope of all the world was born.”

~Author Unknown

I found this on a blog I just found (it is 6/8/18 today) - http://www.sugarpiefarmhouse.com/cozy-christmas-home-tour

I'm posting it ahead because I know I'll never find it, let alone remember it in December!

Old goats, slow goats.

For the first time in a long time, my goats escaped.  My son received a phone call from the neighbor last Saturday morning to let him know that Leslie and Cinderella were on the loose.  He wasn't at home so he called me.  I was on my way home from town but unlike years past, I wasn't in a frenzy to get home and catch them. Because honestly, those goats are old just like I am. They are no more interested in going any farther to get something to eat than I am interested in traveling very far for food.  So I took my time and when I got home, I stood out back and sure enough, the goats were close to the fence nibbling on the neighbor's rose of Sharon bush.  All it took was for me to jiggle an empty bucket and the girls came trotting up the hill and back into the pasture without a problem. Also unlike years ago, they didn't run right back to where they escaped so I had plenty of time to gather the tools I needed and leisurely fixed the fence.

It's been a long time.

 Doesn't this picture on the right look like a painting? It is photo I took on my camera - this is a footbridge in a little park in Spartensburg. Mom and I walked on it after our dinner that night.  Below is one of the Halloween wallhangings I made recently.

Now that I've made up my mind to enjoy my empty nest, I'm getting a lot of things done.  I am making one of the bedrooms in the house into a sewing room.  I refused to move my sewing machine into it until the room is cleaned and painted.  Hopefully my cleaning frenzy will keep going until I get the rest of the house done.  I'm just so easily distracted when I try to clean that I never really get anything done.  I've started setting a time for 15 minutes and working in the room for 15 minutes each night.  That seems to work for me - so I'm very happy about that.

But distractions are what I need right now. I'm so bone-tired of all the hate - mostly politic-based. I'm tired of one side generalizing the other. I'm tired of it all - I can only hope that everyone comes out and votes. We need change, we need someone we can look up to as our president. I realize that no president is going to perfect for all people but hopefully we can do a little better for the next 4 years. 

Mrs. Bobbin

Mrs. Bobbin, who now holds the office of HouseCat

And when I'm so fed up with the horrible things humans do to one another, I remember that there are sweet little kittens. Next presidential election, Mrs. Bobbin gets my vote.

A torrid love affair

 I've written about the ducks quite a bit. It's a little like Peyton Place around here I think. A couple of months ago, the male duck was killed by a car so Daisy duck has been moping around, harrassing the chickens, bullying the cats, and quacking for dog food whenever she feels like it.  Usually when I'm in the middle of doing something.

About the same time the male duck was killed, a Muscovy duck from next door decided to hang out in my chicken house.  I guess he figured that if all the neighbor's chickens were being treated well here, he might as well move in too.  This duck just hangs out in the bottom of the chicken house - eating the feed, muddying the water, and just looking around. 

I noticed Daisy duck starting to waddle around the chicken coop when the duck was there - I'll call him RedEye (he has a red patch around both eyes). At first Daisy would just sit and quack within sight of RedEye and over the course of a week or two, has started to get closer and closer. And then, *gasp*, they spent the night together last night. 

Does this mean ducklings in the future? I really hope not. I can't adopt any more animals although I would it is more like they've adopted me. 

Lost things

I heard at church of the passing of an old friend of mine.  I was shocked and ashamed. Shocked because I never thought of this person as old and ashamed because over the years, I've done absolutely nothing to remain in touch.  Lives get busy, we have places to go, things to do, and I ignored a friendship that meant so much to me at one time. I will try not to make this same mistake again.

Another friend - actually someone I never met but through her writing yet feel as if I've known her forever is no longer writing. For years I've subscribed to Yankee Magazine. I'm not exactly sure why I've always loved this magazine but I just do. I can remember that it was always kept in the bathroom at my grandparents and reading it gave me a few minutes away from my brothers when I was very young and visiting my grandma and grandpa.  I can remember that the Yankee Magazine from that time was Reader's Digest sized. It had pages of advertisements for unique gifts from New England - everything from gardening equipment that you couldn't find anywhere else to pendents in the shape of a Maine lobster. But also like Reader's Digest, the size and format of the magazine has changed and is no longer pocket-sized but large, like other magazines.  It still does advertise those quaint little New England trinkets though.

For a few years, I didn't renew my Yankee subscription. I didn't have time to read them and I didn't have the money. I still don't have the money to spend but I missed the magazine - especially Mary's Farm - and was willing to give up a few coffees a month to subscribe.  I received my first magazine and noticed that the Edie Clark article this month was titled Leaving Mary's Farm. Awwwww. Edie apparently has had multiple strokes and will no longer be able to write. It's odd because I haven't read her for a while but now, I can't finish the article about the end of her career and the sale of her farm because, hmmmmm, I guess because I don't want to face another loss. 

If someone tells you that something horrible has happened, the words disappear. The feelings remain but the words are gone.  If someone writes that something horrible has happened, the words stick around and rereading them makes my heart over and over again.  But words can also soothe and I think that's why many people seek solace in poetry.  There's just something about the tweaking of words in such a way that one's life view is so affected. 

I've always felt rather sad that I don't have many friends. I think the reason for that is I'm a listener and not a talker. I am so much more comfortable listening or reading another person's words than I am contributing to a conversation. 

It's going to be a great week!

My week is off to a good start - 2 loaves of bread just came out of the oven, I have a hot cup of tea, my pups are curled up next to me.........and students have returned! I will actually have students to talk with! Granted, most of the conversations will be about which courses are open, which courses should be taken, but still, students have been gone since mid-December.  I know a lot of people enjoy the quiet time when school is not in session but not me.  One day of quiet is about all I can stand! So I am overjoyed.

It has been pretty cold the past few days which is fine with me.  Tomorrow is supposed to be a bit warmer and by Friday, near 50.  It is going to be a good week - I just know it!

Frozen

Frozen is how I wish my emotions could be described.  Unfortunately, they are not.  Before I had kids, I detested those people who allowed their children to define them.  Well here I am.  After 4 weeks of having my youngest son and my middle daughter here, I am alone once again. I've had 4 weeks of having someone to talk to, having someone to eat with, having someone to just sit with.......and I am feeling damn lonely right now. I'll get over it. Probably by tomorrow I'll be used to the quiet again. And as the dogs are all barking their fool heads off over nothing, I use the word 'quiet' loosely. 

I really hate the feeling of saying goodbye. Before you feel too sorry for me, I could see 1 of my kids within about 20 minutes, 2 of them within an hour.  But my house, except for the dogs, is so quiet.  I've read about how time flies by so quickly and it is true.  It really does feel like yesterday when all 5 of my babies were just, well, babies.  When I was their whole world, when they needed me.  And now I'm what? A safe haven? Someone to hug them? Someone to ask them if they would check the wood stove?

The truth is, my kids - even those who are still in school - are perfectly able to take care of themselves. They are perfectly capable of reaching out to me - or not - for help, for a shoulder to cry on, or just to talk.  This is how it is supposed be. This is right. But holy crap! I miss them.

So what do I do? I cuddle my puppies, I get fat by baking and baking and baking, I take solace in the fact that I can still provide some guidance to students at work, and I take advantage of any opportunity to interact with other young adults who are away from their families and may be also feeling the same type of homesickness that I feel.

I became one of those women who allowed her children to define herself. And I am so proud of that.