Embrace Growth: My Word of the Year for 2025

Welcome back to another episode of me having no idea what to write about but doing it anyway. I suppose it is time to share with you my word of the year. After all, it’s already pretty much the middle of January and it’s time to start living it out. In case you’re new here, the last few years, instead of making resolutions and plans to change or transform my life into something I am not, I have chosen a #wordoftheyear. It’s a way of making broad, all encompassing goals based on more of a “theme” than a strict hard and fast rule. And so, I have chosen to try again this year.

I thought a little about it over the holidays and wondered what we could plan for this year. Physically, the garden was on the top of the list. We cleared our garden spot and tried last year, but after a two week vacation… weeds took over and our garden plot was reduced to a far gone experiment that utterly failed in my brain, and was not to be resurrected for the rest of the season. We got a few pumpkins, but as any homesteader will tell you, pumpkins can grow in the manure heap with little help. Plant pumpkins in the garden of life. Trust me.

Trust me…plant pumpkins!
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

Along with the garden thoughts, I feel my personal growth has settled a bit over the last year and a half of being here in our new community. We’ve settled at a new church, the youngest has begun to make some real friends at school, and we are feeling a bit more connected to our surroundings. We can tell you where some of the cool places are to eat and officially can maneuver a few of the “back roads”. We know our space and some of the needs required to flourish here (or at least survive). I’ve had a few employment opportunities and learned some stuff. Our house chores are still on going but we have “moved in”.

We were blessed with our new grand baby and have entered in to that new stage. (EEK!) Friends are starting to travel more and work less and we are beginning to peek at what retirement might look like — okay maybe not retirement, but slowing down and easing into a slower place, less focused on work and more on building legacy and mentorship of the next generation. A few more aches and pains come along with that role. And learning to listen to your limitations has been… challenging.

And so, as I reflect and muse about how we have moved forward in the past year, I look toward 2025 with flourishing in mind. Therefore, my word for 2025 is “GROWTH”. Perhaps a bit common as far as #wordsoftheyears go, but it’s how I feel God will work in us this year. We have settled. We’ve been planted… and now it’s time to grow where we’ve been planted. I’ve been Brave and tried to Refresh and Renew. We failed at making Magic, so it’s time to sit still, be slow, reach for the sun and GROW.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

You all know what a promoter of forever learning I am…and so Growth seems to be a logical place to start. Seeds have been sown here. It’s time to see some green pop up around those little seeds. I’m not sure we are at the fruit stage yet, but growth is a reasonable goal, don’t you think? Our new grandson will make 100 firsts this year. He will grow. My chick birds have matured into adults and my passion for the pets hasn’t stopped growing… I still want to learn and discover (think baby goats and that new garden!) I want to plan a gallery wall for the house and landscape the pond. The family is maturing and we are moving to empty nest status most of the summers. The hubby and I are moving back to “just us” and learning to juggle that all over again. (I must say the reduced grocery bill is a nice perk, though, with no teenagers to feed all summer!)

Spiritually, growing in Christ is an ongoing goal. At least it should be. I continue to reflect on God’s handy work in nature… I seem to be seeing more sunrises than sunsets these days, so my perspective is changing from party city to country rooster calls (I can’t believe it! I refuse to be a “morning person” I refuse to be a morning person, I refuse to be a morning person….) Perhaps God will grant me new mercies every morning, and I will heed them as growth. Seeds that were planted will grow. I look forward to how God will work in 2025 under the umbrella of my word of the year.

Are you ready to join me on the next adventure? Are you planning on following along in the ups and downs and crazy thoughts in my brain that get posted here on a (relatively) weekly basis? Let’s grow together, friends…Let’s grow together…

Back to Blogging: Embracing Imperfection and New Beginnings

Oh my dear readers! How crazy was my holiday?! Did you even notice that I took a two week hiatus and didn’t write anything? Did you even notice that I missed the last week of Advent, didn’t chat about the Love Candle or greet you for Christmas or New Year’s Eve? Not even a social media “hello”. I am a bad, bad blogger. The algorithms have all gone awry. I thought about a “word of the year” but never truly came up with one yet. I have no excuses.

And so we come back to another year flipped on the calendar. Time passes whether I write or not. Honestly, who really cares about our little life here anyway? Okay, Okay, I am hoping someone does. Or at least this little exercise is in my own best interest to “journal” and think and muse and use as my own creative outlet for some sort of ordering space in my own chaotic brain. If you’re reading this, then, congratulations! You get to come along for the ride as I purge my thoughts for my own mental health. Again, I have no excuses.

The weeks went by in a blur. Grand baby was born. Work. Holidays in the middle of an already hectic week. Travelling. Farm chores. Baby kisses and shoveling chicken poop. How exciting a life I lead. What’s the point? Why write anything here in my little corner of the internet? I’m thinking back to my very first blog posts about niches and why I started mittonmusings in the first place. To learn. To try. It didn’t matter that I didn’t fit in to the typical blogger mode. I am terrible at getting a good photo. I’m not the one snapping selfies in the bathrooms or videoing in the thrift stores. I don’t make good “art” documentaries or farm instructional videos. I’ve never written a book. I don’t even have Tiktok. I can use a filter, but I still need help editing a reel. I am very, very far from perfect.

Sigh. Maybe that’s the point. In this fast paced world of A.I. technology and rapidly changing fads, my {cough} fifty {cough} something person is on the way back down the hill. I am beginning to see the dark side of the mountain and watching the next generation climb to great heights on the other side. My babies are having babies. We are starting to look at retirement funds. I know, age is just a number, and if you’ve been here any length of time, you will know that I am a firm believer in the “never stop learning” motto. An old dog CAN learn new tricks. God never told us we get to retire from life. Jesus had a plan and left a legacy. He made a path for those coming behind to follow. Perhaps it is the same for us in 2025.

I’m a bit sad that I didn’t have the time to sit down over the holidays and reflect properly. I’m a bit disappointed that we didn’t (okay at least I didn’t) have a whole lot of time to “chill” and look introspectively on the past year and the one to come. I should have. The youngest asked if I had a resolution. I don’t. I have a few goals set in mind, but have I come up with a true, real focus for the year, as I have had in the past? No, not yet. My mind is already racing forward to the 17 things that need to get done in the next few days. My new work schedule requires some getting used to, and we are once again, balancing home and the rest of life. Oh no, my friend, time stands still for no one. Every day is a marching on to the next day.

Perhaps that’s what time is teaching me. Perhaps that’s what God wants me to learn. Patience. A life journey is a march onward. Up (and down) the hill. Things gotta get done. Bills get paid, the dishes get done, the babies grow up, and the dog still gets fed. This is where I am. And it is okay.

Come join me on this adventure! (Photo: Pexels)

Welcome to the blog, dear reader. Welcome to the chaos, the times I go AWOL for no apparent reason other than “I didn’t get to it”. Welcome to the journey. I guarantee that we will learn together. We’ll think and muse and become the master of nothing. It’ll be fun. We’ll question verses and try to apply them to life. There will be bad photos, my crazy chicken stories and lots of grand baby gushing. The hubby will likely be the focus of some #itsnottafarm project and will be there for a few laughs, I am sure. HAPPY 2025!

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The Role of a Rooster in your Flock: Introducing “Morris”

Welcome back! If you’ve been following mittonmusings for any length of time, you’ll know that a flock of chickens have been on the want list for a very long time. It sparked a three year long search for the perfect country farmhouse and an uprooting of my entire family to move away from everything we knew and held dear. Which seems a little crazy now that I see it in black and white… but here we are! I planned, prepped and did my research. I sought out what breeds of chicks would be friendly, cold tolerant and easy for a beginner. I asked questions and read lots. I went through a reputable source and ordered six day olds… three of each kind. (In case you care to know, I have Americanas and Lavender Orpingtons). I discovered the order list was a little late, but in May of this year, the little bundles of fluff moved in.

My family tolerated the chicks and their crazy mom as they ran through the living room… and made a complete mess of my beautiful farmhouse. Still, mom was happy, and the dream was a reality, so what could they say? Eventually, the babies finally moved out and #itsnottafarm got a bit more “farm like”. And then tragedy struck.

“Mort” my dumbest (but most favourite) chicken got “lost”. Literally, lost. She more than likely wandered off into the woods and couldn’t make her way back. We saw no evidence of predators, so I would like to think she is happy somewhere… So we were down to five. And then: “Mavis” became “Morris”. Yup, I got a rooster. Which is not a surprise if you buy a “backyard mix”… it happens more than 50% of the time… but I had done my research, and planned remember? My chicks were supposed to be 98% guaranteed female. Laying hens. Alas, life always has other plans, eh? I denied it when she grew a bit bigger. I denied it when a friend commented. I denied it when her comb grew. I could deny it no longer when the crow came. We are now down to four girls and a very handsome, but definitely male, rooster. We now have “Morris.”

We now have a “Morris”

Is it so bad to have a rooster? No, not really. The rooster’s role in a flock is protector. A role “Morris” is taking on well. It’s actually kind of fun watching him call to his ladies … especially if one is falling behind. He’s a big boy, so can’t hop the fence as well as the hens… and he often gets stuck at the back of the pack. We are learning to “tame” him (although he is fairly friendly) as he is beginning to strut his stuff and challenge the hubby and the dog. I bring him treats so he likes me most of the time. He’s screaming in protest in the background as I type this! Oh brother… they are out on my porch… he’s calling them back… See? Welcome to my crazy life dream!

So, as we adjust to life on the “farm” now with a rather loud and unexpected rooster, I hope you find your own protector. I hope that God gives you someone who “has your back”. Who calls you back to Him when you stray a little too far. I hope there is one who may have been unexpected in your life, but is a vital part of it. I know God is good. He gives us what we need – when we need it most. It’s not always what we want… but He makes it all work out. There will be casualties. No one is perfect. Even if they are in authority and have a very important role in leadership. We will lose our friends sometimes. We will be challenged, and have to act on the defensive on occasion. I heard a tidbit of farm history, that weather vanes on top of barn roofs depicted roosters to remind us to be bold in our faith… and to not be like Peter who denied Christ three times before the crowing of the morning rooster. (By the way…they crow all day… and at any time of day…so yeah…there’s that).

“Morris” and his Ladies

I hope a “Morris” comes into your little world to bring you a bit of the unexpected. To keep you on your toes. To be bold and tough and a good protector. Yet, a beautiful soul who has every good intention to be wise and wary. A father figure, perhaps. Let this be your reminder to muse on them a little today – and be thankful for their role in your flock. Blessings, my beloveds.