Tag Archives: writing

Just Sitting Around…

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Welcome back, beloveds! It’s been a spell… and a lot has been and is going on, but I’m still in that “writing funk”. Lots to say, but no clear direction. Ha! Maybe that’s the way it is in life. Always something, isn’t it? And no clear direction as to where it’s going… but here we are at the writing table again and somehow we’ll get through it and something will come out on the other side.

So, where to begin? Well, working on a few projects here at #Itsnottafarm. Last winters ice storm caused several of our cedar hedges to bend over, leaving overhanging branches across our driveway… so I have decided that I am country girl enough I can handle the branch cutter… yup, chopped down several trees. Until a rather large trunk killed off the trimmer! (No worries, Hubby fixed it again, I think!) Nonetheless… processed quite a few in the time allotted. Enough, in fact, to create a “rustic” cedar arbor for my flowering vine. Well. I have the start of one. I have a plan. I have several saved Pinterest pins. The logs currently are sitting on my lawn.

The beginnings of my arbor!

What else has been going on? Oh yes, my beloved father in law turns 95 this month! Which sparked a giant family reunion and a party with the gathering ‘outlaws’. And all my kids arriving home. It lasted for a full 4 days and several large meals later. So the pantry was raided, leftovers created, and a giant stack of bedding to launder. My septic isn’t sure it can handle it all… so the laundry is sitting there in a pile too.

Ninety five years young! What a legacy! Dementia has robbed his mind from enjoying the celebration, but the rest of us enjoyed the company and catching up. Family is good. Quirks, of course. Moments, of course. Yet a godly heritage is priceless. My introverted self needed a day to recoup, though, so I spent a day just sitting around after the chaos.

Then there’s the floor. We decided to rip out the old, stinky carpet in our family room. Okay, we paid somebody to do it. That was an adventure: loading all the boxes into our van only to discover we ordered the wrong colour. Luckily, we checked before we left. We then proceeded to unload, return and purchase and load the new pile of vinyl flooring into said van. The van’s power steering died on the way home. And so, although we have a new and beautiful floor, our dead van is sitting on the lot of our mechanic waiting to receive it’s fate.

My new chick birds are growing and exploring more and more! I found them foraging out on our driveway yesterday! They still haven’t fully integrated with my older girls (the big girls chase them off) but they are getting braver. They will start laying eggs in a couple of months. I am hoping they will use the nest boxes, because recently the older girls are only using them intermittently. I have to get the curtains up. Maybe the nest box pads need changing. I don’t know how to encourage the girls to nest at home 100% of the time, because currently there is a pile of eggs just sitting “somewhere” on our property going to waste.

It’s been really hot these days, so there has been a lot of sitting on our porch where the breeze is beautiful. Or by the pool, where it’s still hot but near the water… and the action of everyone else who chooses to swim. You should see our grand baby! Dunking under like a little duckling without a care in the world! Ooo. I want a couple ducklings. And a goat or two. So I sit and scroll on my phone dreaming and planning but second guessing myself as I probably should not add to the creatures we already have. Or should I?

So. There’s been a lot of “sitting” in the last couple of weeks. Active sitting. Is that a thing? Active sitting? Yes, I believe it is. I’m sure you’ve heard about sitting and “waiting on the Lord”. Lots of references in the Bible direct us to sit, or “wait” upon God’s perfect timing for something. It is not passive idleness. Yes, often it involves rest, but that rest is often necessary to fully see your next steps clearly. Like recouping after family reunions.

Sometimes the sit is not easy. Sometimes it comes face to face with hurts, doubts and realizing that the best options aren’t the ones God has designed for us. When I do find that pile of wayward eggs, I am sure a few would have been eaten by wildlife. The rest will certainly be rotten after sitting several weeks in this heat wave. Gross. Life lessons via the coop. Always interesting.

Sometimes the sit is full of planning, anticipation and a building up of courage. Realistically, I probably spend more “enjoyable” moments planning projects and dreaming about them than I do in actually engaging in the project itself. Cedar arbor case in point. Baby ducklings online are way cuter than the ones pooping in my yard someday. Sometimes that sit before the Lord strengthens your faith, renews your prayer life, and in reality is often more peaceful than the journey ahead. Especially if that journey is letting go. Like our dying van who carries so many memories in its seats.

So, yeah, it seems as though I’ve been “sitting around” a lot lately. In a writing lull. In a seemingly non productive moment of catching up but never accomplishing anything mode. Although maybe, just maybe, like this post, just “sitting around” seemed to write itself. In a direction that God wanted it to go. And that makes it all good. Updates on my arbor soon, friends, I promise!

How Do You Describe Yourself in 10 Words?

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Welcome back. I’m a bit behind in my post this week, but have had a little bit of writer’s block. Nothing has been hard pressed on my mind. Not that I haven’t been thinking of things, of course, but what to share… anyway, I did what any good writer does: Check a few writing prompts to get the juices flowing (thanks wordpress.com). Nothing really grabbed my eye there either except one. Here was the posing question: How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

Describe yourself in 10 words or less…

Okay, so the obvious. Physical features? Body type? Hair colour, eye colour, skin tone? All irrelevant, really. Does it matter? Does it cause instant judgement if you are a curvy girl? Dark skinned or almond eyed? Do you have an accent? I think about these things when I send out resumes. Or random emails. Do you wonder what I really look like physically when you read this public blog post? Does it matter to the words I print? Realistically, it does. Our views are tainted by the subliminal signals given off in our physical appearances. You’d be less likely to listen to my conservative, religious world views if I was a middle-aged, white American male with blue eyes and silver hair.

So, then we perhaps look at education, or religious beliefs or job description. Age, maybe? Life and world experience? In this world of social media and instant information, a quick Google search will give you the basics on almost anyone. The recent passing of Ozzy Ozbourne flooded tonnes of posts. Each with their own twist. Was he a loving husband and father, or a crazed, bat-head biting lunatic promoting the devils’s music? A talented rock musician who shaped a generation, or an unintelligible drug addict? I’m glad I am not famous. Too many people judge you when you are famous. It doesn’t matter what you do, either. Peace keeper or Terrorist. I suppose it depends on what side you are on.

Recently saw this post: Ozzy on Sesame Street: Do we judge?

I am purposefully not going to answer the prompt question outright. I am going to leave it there for your own musing and thought. What I will say, is that I would love to be in God’s unfathomable brain when He creates people. He knows our little blip of existence in the great line of time. He knows who we will meet and why. He paints those skin tones and eye colours on purpose. He knows how we will feel about this or that and what drives our passions and goals. He knows our deepest darkest secrets and still loves us. Yet, He gives us a free will to choose our own destiny. Like I said, I’d love to be there when He’s mixing it all up. By the looks of some of you, He has a sense of humour, too. Just teasing.

So. There. Four hundred and seventy six words later, and a blog post is on the page. It’s a little shorter than normal, but then, so am I. A little rounder too. Hopefully, the words sparked a little musing for you this week. How would you describe yourself? Why? How did you come up with those initial thoughts? How do you describe your spouse? Your kids? Do we judge? Me? I’m a uniquely designed daughter of the King of Kings who created a fuller version of a slightly crazy chicken loving girl who shares my thoughts out here on the internet once and awhile to encourage strangers to think a bit about what they might think of themselves and others. May you go forward and be prompted by your own thoughts on the subject!

Sounds of a Silent Saturday

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Welcome back, my friends. Apologies for skipping out last week… just wasn’t there. It was Easter and I was certainly musing, but I didn’t get a chance to sit down at the computer to write about it. So it’s going to overflow into this week. It’s my blog, I’m allowed. It’s been an eventful week this week too … two words: baby chicks! Therefore, I am a little late in posting. But: it’s my blog, I’m allowed.

Okay. Here we go. I want to invite you in to the middle of the night at my old farmhouse. I have very few neighbours. It’s not the big city. We have one streetlight, so that permeates the absolute darkness of, let’s say, three o’clock in the morning. I’m lying in bed awake, as some women of my age do, listening. The chubby dog takes up half the space I have allocated myself and I pull the remaining covers up over my shoulders. It’s chilly, but that’s okay. The dog snorts. I hear myself and the hubby breathing. My eyes are closed and block out the streetlight. I listen again.

Photo by Kseniya Budko on Pexels.com

During the day, our old farmhouse creeks and we hear the wind outside. Our neighbouring cows are loud most of the time. The occasional car, truck or farm vehicle zoom past our front yard and kick up the dust – the dog barks at the slower traffic. Up until recently, Morris our rooster could be heard. (It’s a myth that roosters only crow in the mornings. That crazy bird yelled all the time at us!) However, I’m sad to report he’s been missing now for a few weeks. I’d like to think he was heroic and was “taken” fighting the whole time to protect his ladies. Even our buddy down the road commented he hadn’t heard him lately and kinda misses him. Enough about that sad event. Moving on.

Back to three o’clock in the morning and the snoring dog. Imagine you hear a gurgling like a giant belch emanating from some underwater jelly-bellied monster. That monster happens to be the sump pump located in the basement, directly underneath our master bedroom. It belches several times throughout the day and night. Earlier in the spring it followed a constant sound of rushing water as the spring melt emptied and got flushed back out by the sump pump. I’ve learned to appreciate the sound of the it, because it means my basement isn’t flooding. Like the sound of generators running constantly during our ice storm a few weeks ago. Thankfully, those have stopped now, and we are back to a general quiet.

Listen again. Hushed breathing. The cat jumps down from something upstairs with a soft thud. My new baby chick birds finally rustle. I listen to hear them as I’ve only had them a few days (yeah!) and I’m still at the new momma “please don’t die” stage. Somebody peeps very softly, and I say a prayer of thanks for signs of life in the middle of the night. They settle back down in their living room home with the soft red light of the heat lamp. Silence again. Gurgle belch. Hushed breathing. The furnace clicks on briefly, with a rush of pilot light flame. Otherwise it is pretty quiet here.

I’m a week behind in this muse, but I’ve been thinking about it since a comment I heard Easter weekend. You’ve heard of “good Friday”. You may have heard of “celebration Sunday” or “Easter Sunday” or even “resurrection day”, but this year, for the first time ever, I heard someone use the term “silent Saturday”. The day between Jesus’ death on “good Friday” and rising again on the third day… the day when all was absolutely silent. Apparently, I am late to the party on this concept, for google has lots to say about silent Saturday. Not so silent on the internet. Well fine. It was a new thought for me. And so, I share it with you!

One imagines Jesus, stone cold in a dark tomb. Obviously, corpses don’t say much. God the father did a lot of “talking” on Friday, but no signs and wonders happen to be recorded on the day in between. Jesus’ followers have probably gathered, but may be hiding out, keeping a low profile. It seems like it really was a “silent Saturday”. And it seems, with some reflection on my part, and the internet sparking my thoughts, a day of quiet reflection should totally be a part of the Easter story! Life is difficult. There will be hard days. Yet, life is also beautiful, and there will be many a day filled with joy and celebration. And we often need a few silent Saturdays, to balance it all out. To question why God seems to have abandoned us. Why He seems like He is not answering our prayers. Then to reflect on His faithfulness, and draw strength for the next step. Like me listening for signs of life at three in the morning, thankful that things are still “okay so far”.

So, thanks to that friend that happened to mention this phrase to me last week… it ignited a muse that’s spanned a week! Was it news to you? Even if it wasn’t and you knew this lingo way before me, I hope it’s been a good reminder to you, to appreciate a bit of silence. May you take the opportunity to hear the gurgle belch of a good sump pump and appreciate all you have. Be blessed, beloveds.