anxiety...

I'm busy wading through right now.  When the world falls off it's tracks or has a hiccup I can easily get derailed.  Thrown off balance as I tumble into a really weird place.  I'm not  sure if this is who I've always been.  Probably.  I feel that as my life course changed and I've had the time to take the breaths. To step back and let all the feelings and emotions roll over me. To simply experience all the things that I would have trampled down and ignored in my younger years, I feel a different understanding. 

The past 5 days sent me reeling a bit off track.  Thursday as I was sewing, pacing myself, planning to at least have Hubs' quilt top ready in time for his birthday, I heard his frantic yell up the stairs.  Beau was having another grand mal seizure. The first breakthrough one since Christmas morning.  As I ran down the stairs, my fingers already dialing the vet, I felt it all start to slip.  Four muzzle seizures later found Beau and I at the emergency vet, poor guy only seems to cluster and needs medical intervention to stop them. 

A few hours later I signed his admission paperwork and felt that overwhelming despair that comes from feeling powerless, from having more questions than answers and feeling equally annoyed with myself that I had not been able to stay with him.  If I had driven slightly further to the other emergency clinic, I would have been able to stay with him. But I was alone in the car, driving through the rain with a dog in the backseat that could start into another grand mal seizure at any moment.  I made the only choice I felt I could. 

He's fine, we're sorting out a new medication routine and tomorrow he'll see his regular vet, the fear in my heart is what is  trying to convince me that he's sleeping more than usual.  I know it's only fear, because his sister is crashed out too, almost as much and she is my energetic pup. 

The challenge is getting things back on track.  The lost sleep, the anxiety, the fear all of it makes me feel like I am spiraling.  To do lists, plans and ideas do nothing to pull me back to the path I need to be on.  It's a feeling of being lost.  Of knowing what you need and want to do vs the dark pit of what you are lost in. 

I spent most of Friday, just pacing.  I got an 11 pm call Thursday that he'd had another seizure so I knew the earliest he was coming home would be the middle of the night Friday, they require 24 hours seizure free to release him.  I get it.  The mature side of my brain was still in control, I fully expected a Saturday morning release, so we could be well rested and ready to take care of him while he recovered.  

Belle and I were absolutely lost.  She was glued to my side, hating that her brother left and hadn't come home. To make it worse a second day of storms had rolled in.  Dark, foreboding, loud and intense.  Together we snuggled, we prayed, we went upstairs and worked on the quilt, we watched minutes turn into hours.  As long as that day felt, I should have been able to finish that top. She slept the night cuddled in my arms.  My "I need my space" puppy needed to be reassured. 

Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early. I was very optimistic, I'd spoke with the vet before going to bed, he was doing good and as long as he had no more seizures he'd be home the next day. I slept like a baby.  I was already showered and dressed when I got the call that he was heading home! I finally felt like crying.  Belle must have understood my words, because she grabbed a toy and started bouncing, her brother was heading home. 

Saturday was another lost day.  Snuggles, going in and out, walking him up and down stairs as all of the medications wore off.  Feeding him, well both of them, but mostly him.  They informed me he wouldn't eat kibble.  I'd told them several times that they don't like or eat kibble.  That all of their meals are cooked for them, I even offered to bring his meals up.  I work hard to provide them well balanced healthy meals. 

They also said that he didn't want to go potty in the rain.  Nope, that isn't it.  He didn't want to go potty on the end of a short lead.  Beau is private like that, always has been.  So I am guessing that explained the 10 trips up and down the back steps so he could relieve himself.  He'd been holding it for a day and a half. 

Today is the first time he is doing his own thing. The velcro pups have spent the day lounging in their respective sofas, beds, sun spots, etc. Only checking in when they are requiring an extra bit of love or making sure that the mail man hasn't gotten too close to the house. 

Yesterday, I started trying to pull myself back.  I managed a few chores, I focused on being a human.  Doing the human things.  I cooked my sweet Hubs real meals.  I went to the grocery store, I delivered some things to my sister.  I was almost functioning. The pups were even playing.

Today, I was bound and determined to do better.  I wasn't about to sit helpless.  Getting down on the floor to play with pups was not going to be my only activity.  Today I was going to move past being human and move onto adulting. As I sat down to write this almost an hour ago, it was the first time I stopped doing the things today.  The house is tidied, laundry was actually completed.  I did some canning, I have a batch of yogurt cooking in the Instapot (been on my to try list forever!). I have gone up and down the stairs at least 30 times checking on pups, I've updated the calendar, made a vet appointment, and even taken care of some business that was sitting waiting for my attention. 

I also made my sweet Hubs a birthday cake, although we are not doing a huge celebration this year.  And he's actually getting his present next Sunday.  We were able to make one of his lifelong dreams come true.  Boy I can't wait to tell you all about that! 

I spent my day focused on adulting, because my wonderful Hubs doesn't need a broken human that can't function because "someone moved my cheese".  Tomorrow I will do even more adulting. He won't get his quilt today. Shoot he might not get it this month, but he knows that I am working on it.  

I guess I've always been this way.  I don't recall when it started, so my only guess is forever.  Those small things become huge.  The huge things become insurmountable.  It's an effort to climb over that little hill to see there is truly a smoother journey on the other side. 

Today, I am tired and emotionally weary, but it's different. Just like the way the clouds rolled away and the sun came out today. Today, I am also physically tired and that is a good thing.  

Love and prayers...

Dragon Time...

There is quite a storm brewing.  The winds are pushing heavy clouds full of fury and moisture our direction.  I'm not sad.  We truly need the rains, despite the snowy winter, it actually pushed us into drought conditions.  The ground is parched, grasses are struggling, the spring plants are struggling to make their debut.  

I kind of feel like I've got a bit of a storm brewing myself.  I've been struggling to break bad habits that I have fallen into, I'm not doing so great.  Everywhere I turn I have half finished projects.  I have household tasks that need completed, yet I find myself struggling to stay on task. 

I've always been that way.  I get hyper focused on something for a window of time and then squirrel... I'm off on another quest. For example, I have wanted to start a sour dough again, the health benefits beckon me, yet, I know me... it will die, because I cannot stay focused. 

I stay hyper focused on my pups and Hubs health, and let my own just slide off into the abyss.  Until I get sick or have a moment when my body reminds me that I am also only human and the same rules apply to me. 

Yep, it's what it looks like...
why? Because we could...

She stole it from Beau 

I try desperately to ignore my social media accounts, I can lose days once I pause for a moment.  I find that it is sucking my time and my life. I pop in to look for learning opportunities on foods, gardens, quilting, crochet, knitting, canning... okay you get the idea right... before I know it, I've lost a full day looking at other folks magic and wondering why I didn't get my own magic made. 

I'm trying. 

Yesterday, I went up to sew, I'm still working on Hubs quilt. Although, I have managed to acquire 6 more projects I have decided to complete this year, on top of the ones I want to finish for myself (see what I mean).  I just sat there smiling.  My sewing table was still cluttered with the remains of the Dragon's visit this weekend. 

She is so unbelievably creative, her mind is always full of ideas and plans.  We spent time in my sewing studio, she wanted to learn to use the sewing machine.  And learn she did.  She's only 8, it was the first time she got brave enough to try and in less than 30 minutes she managed to sew an almost perfect 1/4" seam.  She'd dug through the scrap bucket and discovered some fabric that made her smile, the first one she did was with plain muslin fabric, she wanted to be sure she knew what she was doing before using the cute fox fabric.  We didn't have much time, we were heading to MADE to glaze her pottery bowls that she had made last month, back when she was only 7, but she was determined.  

She made the cutest little pillow and was ready for more.  Gramma promised after MADE we'd do a bit more before she headed home.  When will I learn?  MADE is never a short stay, we easily spend 3 or 4 hours there, and the storm that blew through guaranteed she would have lots of time as none of us wanted to go out into that windy, rainy mess!

So even though we planned to have her home relatively early, we didn't. Because no trip to MADE is complete without a stop by her favorite ice cream shop for a flight of mini ice cream cones.  Upon arriving home, we simply had to sew the bigger pillow.  Barbie would be so disappointed if we didn't come home with it. 

You know how it ended of course.  We sat and she sewed.  

I cherish those moments.  I love that inquisitive always learning mind of hers.  I love sharing the things that I fill my days with, the skills that I get to pass on. I cherish it all!

We also had the chance to spend Sunday morning exploring the Endangered Wolf Center with her Brownie troop.  The night before while she and I were putting all of her patches on her vest I pulled out my old (I'm fairly certain it now qualifies as an antique) brownie uniform.  To put it mildly, she couldn't believe that Gramma was ever a little girl and she was unbelievably thankful that the uniform was no longer a dress. As we walked together looking a the sights and sounds that surrounded us, dealing with the occasional drizzles of rain, we plotted our gardens.  

She was less impressed with the center than I expected. That probably has more to do with the fact that over spring break she was at a wild life rescue and had actually held and pet several of the wolves that we were now only seeing behind massive fences and/or glass.  This girl experiences so many things, no wonder school bores her a bit. 

Instead of ohhing and ahhing over the various wolf families, she was more concerned with whether she should plant pumpkins or watermelons in her garden patch this year, and which ones she was going to plant in my garden.  I am fairly certain I am going to be the grower of her watermelon patch this year.

The things a cutie can sweet talk
Gramps into

what a collection of 3D printed critters

either she is a tall 8 year old,
or I am a short gramma...
probably both

Gramps and I cherish the days we get to steal her away.  We love spending hours on end lost in her world.  We end up a bit tired, keeping up with an energetic 8 year old is a lot when you aren't used to it.  She worked at the craft show with me on Saturday night and asked if she could create some things for the next show.  

She also tried desperately to talk me into buying a 3D printer so that she could make things with it.  She didn't quite understand that Gramma's brain does not grasp that kind of technology, as she gently assured me that she could figure it out and would make it work.  

Dragon time is some of the greatest time in the world.  It fills me with hope for the future, joy in small things and fills my life with so many blessings.  

She is one of the reasons that I am trying to finally get my world together.  There is so much to share with her while she is still young and thirsty to learn.  When she arrives, electronics get slid away, the old school things come of out hiding.  The hands on world takes over. 

That is completely my happy place. Speaking of happy places, I have things on the to do list that I need to accomplish, I am trying very hard to reorganize my life, to stop being scattered and overwhelmed.  So... time to get with it... I have lots on items on my list that need to be finished before the next Dragon day arrives. 

love and peace... and if you are in the paths of the storms... stay safe!

B

some days...

Yesterday's rainy weather got lost, it showed up in the wee hours this morning.  It definitely looks far more deary than it actually is. We could have used the actual rain yesterday, this frozen mixture is doing very little for the parched ground. As I sit here and watch the snowflakes falling a mix of huge and tiny, I am now wondering how much of it is going to stick. We were told none, as I watch the decks, grass, trees and everything else slowly turning a beautiful white, the flakes are now large and fluffy. I'm over winter, I'm tired of being teased by those random beautiful days that beacon us to put away the sweaters and sit outside to bask in the brightness of the sun. 

I'm ready for the rebirth.  That beautiful shade of green that burst forth as the seasons officially change, is something I am longing to see. 

This blog was interrupted by Beau's desire to go for a walk. Thankfully the snow isn't sticking, to any degree, it will all melt away quickly, although it is stupid cold out there.  This time of year makes me absolutely crazy, Sunday we were at the park having a picnic.  Today, the pups and I were the only ones crazy enough to be out.  They have a fenced yard, so I am not sure what the desire for a walk was, I just know he wasn't going to lay down and chill until he walked. 

I'm sitting here until we go for a walk

I was in a strange space yesterday, I didn't realize the date until late in the evening when one of my sisters posted the last picture of our entire family together.  It was 7 years since that early morning call. The one I had been expecting, never wanting to receive. I had errands to run, so I hadn't really created a solid plan for the day.  So I was basically filling in the times between things.  

Hub's truck needed to go to the shop.  I'd finally hit the point that I was not willing to allow it to go anywhere until it was looked at.  My worrywart side had come to the conclusion that the noise we'd been hearing for months was no longer something minor, that it was growing to the point of being crazy expensive (I mean what isn't these days).  Ends up fairly minor, whew, but they couldn't tell us how long they would need the truck to be onsite.  Oddly, I rarely if ever go anywhere and don't truly need a car, but it feels strange to not have one.  I often ponder how we got to the mindset that we needed things like multiple cars.  Realistically, our family doesn't need two cars, I seriously hardly leave the house.  Yet, it feels weird.  

Later Hubs and I decided to skip dinner time and catch a movie.  Gotta say, I was seriously not excited about his choice in movies.  I am not a movie person, I don't sit still well, so a movie date means I am going to have to be still. The people sitting beside me would definitely frown if I  started breaking out yarn and a crochet hook. It seemed important to him.  So we went.

"My Dead Friend Zoe" is not a title I would have expected from Hubs.  Honestly, expected a horror movie with that title, and he never chooses those. It is a beautiful, haunting, sad and hopeful story.  I personally hope every person in the country goes to see it. 

Hubs occasionally battles PTSD, any veteran that has served in combat is bound to experience it from time to time.  Although it is not exclusive to veterans, they suffer in the greatest numbers.  This story is about a veteran, it's about the process of dealing with those terrible things that linger and eat into the very essence of their lives.  I was not about to let him go see that kind of movie alone.  

If you have a chance to go see it, please do.  Our veterans have done an amazing service for all of us.  Understanding the battles they will always face is the least we can do for them. 

As I filled the hours in between the things, I decided to work on things that will fill my booth at the craft show at the end of the month. I mean, why not be productive with ones time.

I'm enjoying making these a bit 
too much

Through it all, I couldn't shake the disconnected feeling of the day.  It felt off.  I felt like there was something I was supposed to do, yet couldn't recall what it was. As the day unwound, and I saw the picture my sister posted, it felt like everything clicked into place.  I love and hate that picture at the same time.  I cherish that we were all together before the domino's started to fall, my heart hurts to remember that was the final smile I saw. The remaining time was hard, for all of us, the remaining time was bitter. 

us

I don't visit the past much.  Which is ironic given that I live a simpler life more common in the past.  I sometimes think it is because I am not strong enough to deal with what is back there.  I never linger over pictures of loved ones gone on, I get fussy when Hubs wants to show me pictures and video's of my fur babies that are gone.  It isn't something I can do.  I am horrible with remembering dates connected to those memories.  Maybe it is a flaw in my make up or maybe it is a protective mechanism.  It doesn't diminish the love I carry, it just softens the ache. 

Today is a different day, today as the winds race around and the cold permeates everything while winter struggles to hold on for another little bit, I am more centered.  Today, I can think, I don't feel disconnected.  Today is a day for daydreaming, planning and moving forward. 

What does that look like?  Outside of the garden planning, there are other things I am longing to do. I am just trying to discover what that path forward looks like.  I am finally ready to start dusting off day dreams and giving them life.  Hubs and I have long talked about my teaching basic sewing and quilting skills to people that want to learn.  

Gertrude, my 301a

I am passionate about my vintage/antique machines and would love to share that passion with others.  I'm not sure what forward looks like, but I do believe that if folks are interested, I am going to teach on those machines.  

Not everyone has a vintage Singer 221 (featherweight) I am blessed to have several, and my Singer 301a is an absolute dream to sew on.  I also have a Singer 99k and several 15's and 128's to name a few.  The simplicity and ease makes sewing on them a pure joy.  I wish I had been blessed to have one when I was learning. I also have the ability to work on all of those machines and I can teach others to take care of their own.  Like I said, there are dreams dancing in my heart and head, I think they are just about ready to become real...

time to stop daydreaming and get busy

But not if I spend all my time sitting here writing, rewriting and day dreaming.  I want to go get a loaf of bread started and then I need to get busy.  A cold, dreary day calls for something warm don't you think?

peace and love my friends...

a simpler life...

I walked out on the deck a few moments ago to see if it was warming up and to check on my big boy, as a neighbor had just posted of video of a rather large coyote wandering in the common ground area.  A bit from my house, but close enough to be concerning.  I'm sure if I'd have been outside at the same time I would have caught a glimpse as there trees are completely bare this time of year. Not only was he perfectly safe, he was in his favorite morning spot. 

Just a short while ago, Beau had been voicing his displeasure at being inside when the sun was so obviously shining outside and he needed to start on his sunbathing.  He's a crazy boy, sun out, Beau out.  Seems to be his philosophy on life.  Belle, is a touch fussier, she requires at least the high sixties before she wants to be outside, Beau will stretch out on the snow if it means some sunshine on his body.  

My sweet girl is inside basking.  She lacks his double coat and the cold temps are simply not her thing... Florida anyone? Or at least her warm sweater. 

I figured as long as I was out there checking in and waiting on the tea kettle to boil, I'd check on the soil in the beds.  Last week they were still a block of frozen dirt, so I wasn't holding out much hope.  Even though the weather forecast is warming and only moderately cold nights, almost perfect for radishes, spring lettuce and sweet peas, I still was not holding my breath. 

I am happy to say, they are thawed!  As our spring weather and temperatures have been very short lived and fickle the past few years, I am hesitant to give my cooler temperature loving plants a go.  But, ya know... I have a bunch of seeds that I harvested last year, so why not try? In a short bit I am heading out to plant up a few boxes.  Maybe we will harvest before the heat of summer arrives in a blistering rush causing all of them to suddenly bolt and before any late season hail storms come thrashing through like last year. 

Hubs and I had such wonderful weekend.  You would think with our rushed trip south it would have felt a bit frazzled.  Instead it felt relaxing.  We both felt like our buckets were filled.  Yesterday we spent time driving back to Illinois, yup the roads are still the worst we've driven on, to visit his Mom and Dad's grave sites.  We ended up picking up a a picnic and enjoying it at one of our favorite parks we used to take the kids to when they were young.

Of course we know they aren't there, we also knew that we were doing it for us.  Yesterday was his Mom's 102nd birthday, as I said.  Tomorrow is his Dad's 122nd, not sure he will be able to get over there tomorrow, as it's a work day and he always has a lot going on at the beginning of month.  It's also, the seventh anniversary of Dad's passing.  I cannot believe it has been so very long.  Some days it feels like yesterday, others it feels like a different lifetime. 

Strangely, I feel that anniversary has more to do with my quest for a simpler life than most anything else.  I've always craved the life we strive to live now, but I was always so wrapped up in the norms, the quest for more without really understanding what "more" truly was.  In Dad's final year, months, days I wanted to be there so much more.  I wanted the time that can never be replaced.  But I wasn't living a life that allowed that. 

I was caught up in a career that demanded long hours, in a place and time that required my own wants, needs and life to take a permanent back seat.  I thought it was normal, assumed that was simply "how life was". Honestly, it was the world my Dad kind of pushed us to think was normal, the kind he approved of.  As a result, I only spent that last bit of time with him via messenger and text messages.  I lost things that cannot ever be replaced. I wasn't there to support my mom and sisters, I wasn't there to sit with him.  I lost those chances forever.  They cannot be replaced. 

I also realized at that time that I was losing more than just that. The quest for "more" was actually providing less.  As the world spun out of control in 2020, it became even far more obvious, you simply cannot buy happiness.  All the career stuff, couldn't fill the voids the dedication was creating.  

Fast forward to this weekend. There was no angst about being able to go, we took it slow, even though it was a fast little vacation. In pausing for Beau, we were able to savor the smaller things.  To have endless conversations about what life was like living in some of the small towns we passed by.  How they could possibly survive financially without industries and lots of businesses.  

All of that ties in with so much that has been running through my thoughts for months, heck probably years now.  We don't need "more" of the wrong stuff.  We need more of the right stuff.

Those small towns appeal to me in a way I cannot describe.  I don't feel I will ever live in one, for many reasons.  But my "more" is probably the strongest reason.  Our grands are within walking distance.  Those calls, hugs and time spent together are precious to me.  I didn't have that gift growing up, I always felt a bit of a loss in my life as a result.  Don't get me wrong, I would never give up the magic that I was able to experience growing up, the depth of cultures, experiences, life and knowledge that I was given as a result of being a military brat and dependent.  

What I missed out on though was the extended family.  That string of people that were connected by more than a common location.  The connection of the blood, shared memories, support, the bonds we didn't make. The roots. Sure we have them and love them, but for the most part they don't know us and we don't know them.  The common ground isn't the same.

I cherish those deep roots more than anything else.  When I get a call to be there for one of our grands, or if our girl needs something and I am able to help, or even something as simple as Hubs wanting to go to lunch together and I have the ability to simply tidy up from whatever I am working on, brush my hair and rush to do it.  If my sister or niece that are local call, I have a flexibility that I've never had before. When there is an urgent need to be in Arkansas or even Alabama or California, I can go. I can be the anchor, rock or life preserver for my loved ones. Those things are powerful. 

Those are the things that matter, at least to me. 

I might be imagining it, but I doubt it, those small towns haven't forgotten about those simpler things. They haven't disconnected from the things that matter in the pursuit of "more". They appear to be focused on the real more.  

As we walked with the pups through the beautiful late winter sunshine at the cemetery yesterday, both of us regretting not bring a rake and some bags (long story about a cemetery and greed), I kept remembering Hubs marveling at the beauty and upkeep of the cemetery's in the small towns we passed.  How beautifully maintained and respected they were.  

I don't know that the cleanliness and maintenance are for those buried there.  They have long since quit caring.  To me, it feels like it is for those left living, for those that carry on the memories, hopes and dreams.  Because in a way we are all a continuation of those that came before us. To me the disrepair and chaos feels like those memories are being disrespected, somehow minimizing the feelings of those left behind. 

They seem to honor the long lines that bring them to where they are today in a way that seems to be falling by the wayside.  When I was down in Arkansas, I couldn't help notice, that my sisters probably have the same feelings I do.  Oh the experiences our tiny family (if you call 6 tiny) had, but watching them living their lives, I felt a stronger sense of oneness an unbreakable bond. One lives super close to mom, her kiddos are super close too.  She is married to her best friend and has formed a community of close friends.  Her own virtual small town, in a way.  Their common interests and bonds carrying them through thick and thin.  

The other one truly lives in a super small town, okay, nope she lives in the middle of nowhere (I will admit to serious envy here - but in a good way).  Hubs and I were stunned when one of the two roads to her house was semi-paved.  Didn't think we'd ever see that day.  She is also married to her best friend, her kiddo's all live within a short drive in equally beautiful remoteness.  The bond between them is unshakable, the cousins are all close and connected. They also have that web of friends that are important, but their family bond is unbelievable and powerful.  That sister is currently my contraband supplier... fresh eggs! I wonder if she knows how wealthy that currently makes her?

My sister that lives up near me, has been in this area, shoot almost the same house since her early teens.  She has a spider web of super close family and friends that surround her and her hubby.  Again, seems like we all marry our best friends. 

In regards to my sisters I am the outlier.  I spent several decades living the life we grew up in.  My roots are fairly shallow still, even though I stopped bouncing around 23 years ago.  But due to that obsession with perceived success, I don't have many friends, the roots are just starting to spread. I am just now starting to understand, experience and treasure the simplicity of now.  

I stink as a friend, I lack the ability to focus and be present.  I want to, but I don't have the life skills that support it.  My dearest friends and I have been part of each others lives since the 1980's, but we don't touch base that often, we don't live in the same areas of the world.  Although, if any of us needs the other, we can call, text or message and we will be there. It's a different kind of friendship. 

I'm slowly learning to be a real life friend, it's a skill I am not sure I will ever master, as I am most comfortable on my own, in my family centric bubble. 

Just the same, I have found in this simpler life my more. 

The slowness of it all, makes it richer.  I am getting ready to start a hot lunch to feed hubs, the meal isn't as important as the time.  Being able to be on call to go and help in Arkansas if the need arises or to drive a grand to work, or to attend an activity.  That is where the more comes in. 

I like to believe that those folks living in small towns are able to lean in to each other, to support one another, to understand that "more" isn't something you purchase with dollars.  It's something you can only purchase with yourself. 

resting...

It's been a lazy morning for the Hubs and the Pups.  We decided to pop down to Arkansas to surprise Mom.  Couldn't do it on her actual birthday, but a few days late just extends the celebration.  We still think we are in our mid to late twenties evidently, as we opted to squish it all into two days.  With a pup that hasn't done a long trip since being diagnosed with epilepsy. Whew, what a trip!  The journey down was a bit long, Beau hadn't quite figured out how to keep from feeling out of sorts, so we made a TON of stops.  Let him reset his balance and run it all out.  

They loved all the new spots, the runs and especially their aunt's huge fenced backyard.  Beau was excited to meet the Danes and really wanted to play.  Belle, was beyond terrified.  Lil' Miss Toughie isn't so tough when the pups are more than twice her size.  She didn't even want to bark at them, choosing instead to stay close by mom or dad.

In 48 hours we drove a little over 600 miles, saw most of our Arkansas family, loved on the littles, pet the ducks and watched chickens. Visited every state park and rest stop between us and Little Rock and had a blast!

One sister and hubs let us stay in their camper, eliminating the need to find a hotel that will allow my big babies.  It was so much less stressful and allowed for an incredible visit.  We were able to sit around and chat, laugh and commiserate over life in general.  We talked about crocheting and finding patterns and ideas while watching the pups romp and our Hubs visited with each other. We were blessed to be able to spend time with mom to celebrate her and to catch up in person, share a few hugs and I love you's. Then off to the other sister and her hubs. Where we shared time with most of their grands (our great nephews are so fun!), their chicks and hens with more chatting and laughing.  The youngest grand is hysterical and entertained us with his animal impersonations and his incredible three year old knowledge of dinosaurs. It was wonderful. 

Through it all we forgot to take pictures, we were simply wrapped up in living in the moment.  I have to admit, I think I enjoy that a million times more than snapping away.  I cherished the time, the conversations, and the laughter.  The hugs even from the older kiddos were warm and genuine. 

While we were in Arkansas, I shared some seeds with my niece, sister and mom.  It was so nice to share the bounty of my garden with theirs.  They will be able to plant sooner than I will, I truly hope they all grow into something beautiful and/or they produce lots of bounty for their meals. 

It was such a welcome change.  We haven't been doing many spontaneous things lately.  I guess life has just been getting in the way of living.  I was beyond exhausted from the trip and was in bed the moment Beau had his bedtime meds almost 10 hours later, I am full of energy and ready to tackle the world. 

So while Hubs and the pups are snoozing, I got a few things off my to do list.  

Comparatively it is so cold here, yesterday we sat outside with our coffee watching the pups play, today, I slowly opened the door trying to avoid the arctic blast of cold air.  Outside tasks will definitely be waiting.  At least until after lunch.  I believe it should be above freezing by then.  

Instead, I worked on planning out the side yard transition.  I can already smell the lavender I am going to plant and see the brightness and beauty of the zinnias and sunflowers.  I can almost see and smell the herbs.  I started doodling the rock paths and the dry river bed that I imagine wandering down the hill.  Pondering what herbs and useful plants might flourish in that setting.  Ones that do not take over a space, but will enhance it. 

As usual for me, I quickly needed something else to tackle while they napped away and as I abhor waste of any kind I had a project I've been wanting to tackle. I will reuse things as much as possible and I've been collecting shampoo bar scraps for a year or so, in a jar, the same way I do soap.  I wasn't sure I could grate them up and make new bars or not.  But this morning, I finally did.  Those bars of shampoo cost between $13 and $20 depending on the brand.  It took very little time and I now have 4 bars of shampoo drying out.  The kitchen smells heavenly.  An experiment worth trying.  

I do the same thing with my handmade soaps, carefully salvaging the bits and pieces.  The rebatch soap is Hubs' absolute favorite.  It seems like the best of every bar ends up in those odd gray/green colored soaps.  And we don't waste anything.  How can you go wrong.  I don't have enough bits of soap saved up again yet to tackle that, it wouldn't be worth the time, but we will eventually have enough to make another batch. 

I had a huge basket of yarn odds and ends, nothing really useful, or so I thought.  I was pondering if I should donate them somewhere, or what, I just didn't know what to do with them.  They seemed destined to be something to make me crazy.  The other day while mindlessly scrolling, I came across a reel, someone had made baskets out of their scraps.  I'd seen the patterns before, I'd made a mental note to try it one day, but like most things I put in my memory lately, it got lost.  

After watching that reel, I decided I needed to give it a try.  I always need a task to accomplish while Hubs is watching his movies, so why not? Now, I have another addiction. I've already finished three, I'm halfway done with a fourth and I am making a great progress through the left over scraps.  They will probably end up in my booths this fall. 

This space and time suits me perfectly, I feel I am flourishing. 

Well, it's time to wrap up.  It's Hubs' mom's 102nd birthday.  We are going to head over to the cemetery.  I'm gonna wake up my sleepy babies.  They are catching up from two very long days, but I am sure they will wake up for a R*I*D*E...

love and prayers for all...