The Ultimate Toolbox

As I sit here to write again with a chocolate chip cookie in my hand, I’m kinda bummed. Did anyone even care there was no post last week? My mother and the hubby were probably the only ones who noticed. Not that this is the reason for my downed attitude. Writing is fun, but I have allowed myself time off before. It’s just been a difficult few days. It’s no ones fault but my own. I am sure it’s perimenopausal mood swings, and a poor diet, and my stubborn attitude, and a hardened heart, and lack of sleep. Yeah. Yeah. I’m going with one of those. Hold on while I grab another cookie. No excuses. In true Taylor Swift form, I take all the blame…. “I am the problem, it’s me.”

However, this self pity party must be looked at further. So, sorry, you’re about to get a journaling session to assist my attitude. Maybe it will help you, too. In addition to all the above factors (which I really do attribute to many of these days), I think the base of my “funk” is frustration. Frustration at the fact that I am not where I want to be. Oh… I want to be HERE, believe me… this is the dream that has been perpetuating in my head for years now. I have it. There are chickens in my living room as we speak. Bucket list check. My kids are relatively healthy and content. I am happy with my relationships, and at a good place with friends and family. God has blessed me with much, and I am thankful. But the world is an evil place.

THIS IS NOT WHERE YOU WANT TO BE…

You see, us middle aged moms have an ugly side that creeps up beside us and whispers that this is not the right place. Those cute Southern mothers with their summer dresses and flowery front porches have it better. Those enterprising working moms with the great ideas and smart business plans have it under control and got all the lucky breaks. They are going to make it big. Those fit cowboy mommas out West who have the perfect veggie gardens and can still look good in tight jeans are seeing the Northern lights when all you get are cloudy nights filled with mosquitoes. They still wake up early enough to make perfect sour dough, too. That creepy voice tells us that despite where we are… it’s not where we need to be. Social media drives us to want it all. My head tells me it’s not true. Our hearts wish for bigger and better though, don’t they? Even if our motivations are good… we easily get sucked into the void of comparison and contrast. This church has better programs. These mission groups are seeing more growth. This couple have great Bible studies in their home. Now that guy can sing. How patient is that mom?

So what is one to do? I’m sure a few of you are going to say get off Social Media and avoid the temptation and FOMO it brings. Realistically, we are bombarded with it everywhere… even my grocery store tells me I need this or that. Shall I hide here in my little country home and simply hang out with my chickens more? As much as I wish that would work, I know my family would disapprove. The extroverts in my life tell me I need to be more social. Perhaps a deep colon cleanse and less cookies. And don’t start with the fresh air. The windows are open. No, I think what I need is more tools in my toolbox. Let me explain with a little story:

We have had a lot of rain in recent weeks. The rain makes the grass grow. We have a lot of grass. We have a riding lawn mower. The riding lawn mower died. Bless his heart, the hubby watched hours of YouTube, ordered the part, spent many brain cells pondering and configuring, dirtied a complete outfit in the (again) rain to repair said broken riding lawnmower. Hooray! Until another part on the lawnmower died. This time we are sending it out to be fixed. Our grass has grown again. You see, if you don’t have the tools to deal, then life gets overgrown and frankly, a little messy. I’m seeking the tools I need to keep my attitude cut short.

“Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load.” Galations 6:4,5

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works in all of them. ” 1 Corinthians 12:4-7

God’s kingdom is so much bigger than my tiny toolbox of gifts. I have tools. I am good at using the tools God has given me. Still, I easily get frustrated when I don’t have the tool I need “fix” where I am at. And that’s where other people come in. I need encouragement. I need to hear good words and challenging motivation. I need compassion. I can take pride in the things that I am good at… and seek help when I need it. I need to communicate those things clearly to the ones who can give me the help I need… when I need it. Sometimes a whisk is useless in the garage… but it is perfectly useful in the kitchen. Time and place also play a roll here. “Tools” are used most where they are needed, and when they are needed. Heaven forbid you misplace one of those tools! Make sure you take care of them and keep them safe! (ever lose a pair of good scissors… then you know what I mean!)

We are learning that taking care of a big property is like living … it takes the right tools to keep it from getting too much to handle. The vines creep in, the pool gets green, the laundry piles up. Sometimes you don’t have the right tool to do the job. You need to borrow one or develop it enough in yourself to get the job done right. It needs to be ready, with battery charged, for when you need it most. That means you gotta take care of it, and put it back when you are done. Allow that battery some time to recharge. Then it will be back at it and ready to do the job, and do it well.

Be proud of your toolbox. Seek to borrow one if you must. Don’t forget to return the favour when you need to, and be sure to take care of all the rusty ones who require a little love. Above all, take lessons from the most valued Repairman, who could post a billion YouTube instruction videos on how to keep life free from all those breakdowns. He’s got the ultimate toolbox. Feel better? Yeah, me too. See you next week, my beloveds.

Photo by Antoni Shkraba on Pexels.com

Overcoming Overwhelm: Tackling Life’s Challenges One Detail at a Time (or How to Eat an Elephant)

Oh friends! Have you heard the saying “It’s all in the details?” I’ve been feeling it this week. All the tiny things that have added up. Perhaps details are not the right thing to describe all those little nuggets of the day to day that need to be done but just eat up time. Mother’s day weekend has passed and we’ve all heard the stories of moms who need a break from all the things they do all day… and it’s true. My Pinterest board is loaded with things I’d love to try but never seem to get around to. There always seem to be dishes to do, or laundry, or a meeting, or a stupid walk for my mental health…

It’s not that I am bitter about it, it just seems to be fact that there is always some little thing. A form needs signing. A call needs to be made. A shelf fell down in our bathroom. It sat for days on the counter while I found proper hooks and measured and stuck it back up. It’s more than likely too high, but I am not fixing it again. Even tonight, a belt broke on our riding lawnmower, and the hubby had to hook it back up (with much fiddle-dee-dum frustration I may add to get it all aligned and working). It was a task that seemed to take way longer than it should. A hook. A lost button. And don’t forget to feed the dog. Empty the dishwasher. Is it me? Am I so disorganized I never seem to be up to date? Or is that just life?

Speaking of life… that comes in little things, too! If you have been following mittonmusings for any period of time, you know that one of the goals, one of the bucket list items, one of the long sought after tasks were chickens! WELL THEY ARE HERE!! Six beautiful little babies arrived on Thursday. Even then, there were tiny glitches. They were supposed to arrive on Tuesday, but the hatchery didn’t get orders and so we were postponed a few days. Don’t ask me what happened to the day old chicks that were born on Tuesday?! Maybe I don’t want to know. Anyway… teeny little peepers are now running around my living room (well not literally running around, but they are contained with lots of space in my living room). Again, they have been an example to me of tiny details making all the difference. They each have their own markings and personalities and have grown so fast in less than a week! Tiny wing and tail feathers are starting to show, and their legs and necks are stronger than the day I brought them home all snuggled together in a cardboard box. I am beside myself with joy. So is the dog. Beside himself that is, I dunno about the joy part.

Six baby Chicks have Arrived!

Even my momma robin nesting in the barn has chicks now! Tiny buds are sprouting in my flower bed. Thousands of tadpoles are lining the edges of our pond. The mosquitoes are returning, too. Billions of tiny things are springing right now! What are some of the small, seemingly insignificant things you have noticed in your world today? Have you taken the time to seek them out? Or are you feeling the crunch of all the details in a different way?

I suppose, therefore, it is ones perspective of the details, or “little things” that produce the outcome of our emotions behind the events. Do we struggle and feel overwhelmed that there are too many little things that need to get done? Or are we patient and take one thing at a time and enjoy it ? Savouring the details like fine wine. They say that the easiest way to eat a giant elephant is one bite at a time. And so it is.

As I ponder these things, I am reminded about the story of the mustard seed. Jesus explained that even if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can move mountains! I’ve been looking at our property … and we are learning there are a lot of details in maintaining such land… not to mention an old house and a bunch of creatures. I can easily get trapped in the frustration of pride, jealousy, anger etc. that the world view puts on home ownership. Keeping up with the Jones’? Ha! Let’s just focus on getting the grass cut. Of course, I want to have the beautiful gardens and whimsical bunny hotels and bird baths, but these things take work (and cash). Should I be so focused on the big picture? Or is God asking me to eat my elephant one bite at a time? Is it possible to have all I want in under a year of living here? My guess is that it’s not going to work out that way.

Let’s go back to that mustard seed. Perhaps my theology is all wrong in my comparison between faith and house chores. Maybe I shouldn’t compare earthly things to heavenly. Yet the tiny mustard seed… in fact all the seeds I have been looking at lately… are an example to me of how much potential are hidden in the small details. An acorn becomes a mighty oak. My little peeps will grow and produce eggs soon enough. The surrounding farmer fields will soon be higher than me. Things around here will get done, eventually. I have faith. I read somewhere that the meaning of the mustard seed is that our faith is only as strong as the One it’s placed in. And my faith is in a great big God who has blessed us with Itsnotta Farm. So many prayers of petition went in to moving here. Prayers for not only the physical, but that we would do God’s service here with this space and for this time in our lives. It’s an adventure I asked God for. Therefore, I am confident He will see us through it… and all the details that go along with being here.

I’m feeling like this post is a little convoluted. My A.I. assistant is going to tell me I’m not fluent and should “create headers to make my readers understand my message better”. Another detail to worry about. So, you’ll forgive me if I am just throwing you in my messy musings without clear and concise thoughts and conclusions. After all, I am trying to eat an elephant over here this week. Perhaps it will taste better with some mustard.

Burdens and Birdhouses

Welcome back. As I sit here, the wind is howling all around me, and our old house is creaking and complaining at the disturbance to its peaceful existence in the world. So many times I wonder why things have to change. I wonder why do we have to grow old, and why does the world not appreciate age for its wisdom and value it for its shear survival? I suppose change is good in some ways. Technology has moved us forward. We live longer. Without change there would be no seasons. No progression, I suppose. I muse, but I know better. We’ve been designed to have our moment, and then it’s over.

Many of you know I am a thrifter. I love a good second hand store. Partially, because of the simple fact I am “frugal” and refuse to pay retail. I suppose the environmental impact influences me as well. Recycle, reuse. Rednecks recycle because they’re cheap though! 🙂 I love a good find… especially if the store doesn’t know the item’s value and it’s reflected in the price tag. Other times I wonder where on earth the staff pulled their number from. I’ve yet to be a “professional” though. I wait for the day that I walk out with a piece that I can envision on one of those road side antique stores where diamond rings are encrusted into the back of some obscure framed piece of cats drinking tea. Turns out it was painted by some turn of the century artist who died tragically, mauled by his tea drinking cats, and his works are now worth millions. Never happens to me.

Nevertheless, sometimes a thing just strikes my fancy and I want it. The hubby often laughs, because occasionally I pick weird stuff. Old “junk” that I hope will be used and transformed into something beautiful. (Like an old century farmhouse in the middle of no where… just teasing!) This was the hope at a recent thrift visit. I found an old wooden bird house on the shelf. The wood was well weathered. The paint irrefutably peeling and well worn. It was five bucks. I hummed and hawed. I walked around the shelves some more. As I placed it on the check-out counter, I asked the cashier if she would consider a lower price. It was clearly some redneck farmer’s excuse for firewood. She could not negotiate, she says. Five bucks. It came home with me.

Was it worth the $5??

I can clean it up and fix it, right? Old farmhouse deserves a weathered old birdhouse, right? It was crusty — but the back was held on by a secret hatch — I pulled out all the remnants of a past inhabitant and scrubbed and sanded and dumped all the dirt and debris. My craft room lacks descent lighting, but after it was all dry I hiked upstairs to give it a fresh coat of paint. I wanted to keep it “rustic”, so it isn’t perfect. I thought I might add flowers or something to brighten it up, but old wooden snowflakes worked better… so it’s going to turn in to a winter ice palace for the birds!

I’m sorry to say the project isn’t completely finished yet, so I can’t show you a “before” and “after” only a “before” and “work in progress”. Perhaps it will draw you back to visit us again… I have several bird feeders and houses around the property. Some were here, some I brought with me, some we’ve purchased. Others we thrifted. I’m hoping all the birds will come to my yard. A pair of mourning doves have been hanging around. I haven’t seen them before, so I am thrilled. I hope spring brings some nests! And baby birds to share with you!

“Work in Progress”

Are you a bird watcher? I miss my big picture window of the old house. I still can see the birds and squirrels here, but I have to go from spot to spot to catch them all. Warmer days will find us on the front porch where we have a better view. Not that the birds need my help. I marvel time and time again how teeny tiny little fragile bodies survive our harsh Canadian winters. Bird bones are fragile. Bird bodies are full of air. You can literally crush them with your hand. And I worry about my bunnies under the heaters all winter.

Oh my beloveds, may these thoughts be encouragements to you this week. Things change. Things get old and are different, yet there is still value in the change. We must embrace it, encourage it, with a splash of new paint and wishes for more time to be used by God. Maybe things are not the same as they were, and we creak and moan with the annoying wind, but we stand firm. We are sheltered by His hands from the harsh realities of life. We appear fragile and worthless. Easily crushed. And yet all our needs seem somehow provided for.

Sometimes we get a little help from others. And that’s okay. We are a community and we must look out for one another. The wind is gonna be fierce some days. Perhaps you need to just hunker down for a bit and wait it out. Perhaps you need to seek shelter or be the one who creates it for someone else. I don’t know where you’re at today, but I’m thinking about you. May you sparkle like my new (old?) ice palace birdhouse!