Posts Tagged ‘in the moment’
Now Ten
I didn’t hear anything from Cyndie yesterday, before she headed to the lake with Melissa and her girls, so I’m guessing there was no sign of what happened to our two missing chickens. Now there are ten.
Before Cyndie left, she was very industrious and constructed quite a netted courtyard around the coop for the chickens, so they weren’t confined to quarters all day after all.
The second I got home from work yesterday, I hopped on the lawn tractor to mow all our grass, so I didn’t even chat with Jackie for more than a brief moment to make a plan for Delilah. From the looks of things, I’m guessing she probably assisted in the installation of the coop fencing.
While I was mowing, she headed off to her night job at a local pub/eatery until closing time, so it was just me tending to all the animals, getting them tucked in for the night.
It was a gorgeous August night. It feels a little like nature is at a plateau lately. Even while putting conscious effort into focusing on the immediate moment, there is an unmistakable hint of summer’s end teasing of what comes next.
While walking one of our trails through the woods, I noticed the view through the trees is already opening up beneath the canopy. The late summer shade of our forest has brought an end to many of the lower plants that had started out strong in the early season sun.
That shade provides valuable air conditioning which takes the edge off days like yesterday, when the heat index was climbing into the 90s. It felt a lot hotter while I was commuting through the cities on the steamy pavement than it did when I finally arrived home.
Ahhhh. Living in the country. Huzzah!
It’s a real blessing. But you do have to keep an eye on your chickens.
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Now
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what we don’t know
that waits around the corner
is not there
until we show up
if we do
with our bells on
it is our time
our moment
notes of a song
real
happening like laughter
singing
because timing
that is everything
is actual
like now
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Cold Rain
Okay. About that idea I wrote of yesterday that we might have a string of dry days to celebrate this week… Not exactly. I drove home from work in rain and by the time dinner was done last night, the temperature had dropped into the 40s (F).
Our furnace got turned on yesterday morning, and we lit a fire in the fireplace last night.
If it weren’t for the leftover leaves still attached to the tree branches, I’d think it was already October. Wet and cold. Cyndie made apple crisp which helped take some of the edge off.
The horses got a night in the barn because Cyndie was concerned about preventing their hooves from being wet all night.
Part of me wants to lament over the rapid disappearance of September, but I’m thinking I should avoid moping about it and put my sights on what lies ahead. I might as well start waxing my skis and getting the snow blade mounted on the ATV.
Winter is not far off. It’s a good thing it’s my favorite season of the year. Looking forward to it is so much more fun than dreading what is to come.
If it weren’t for all these constant distractions, I might make better progress at living fully in the present moment. The art of doing that continues to be something I struggle to accomplish.
It doesn’t help that lately the present moments so often involve rain around here. Who can be blamed for needing a break from that repetition?
I like to imagine what it would be like if our temperatures were already below freezing during these recent batches of precipitation. Speaking of which, I wonder where I put my igloo making fixture.
Of course, the next thought that comes to my mind when thinking about snow this year is, I should have purchased that fat bike I was looking at over the summer. 
See how one thing leads to the next?
It’s the kind of mental exercise that one falls into when the weather outside gets cold and rainy.
Looks like Thursday through Sunday holds some promise for dry sunshine. That would go a long way toward helping me enjoy the last days of September to the fullest…
Completely, in each and every one of those moments.
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Added Detail
A few days ago I wrote about the attempted fraud using my Wintervale credit card number, and how the bank had neglected to notify me. At the time I wrote that, I didn’t have all the facts. Well, I may have had some of them. I just forgot a pertinent detail.
Cyndie pointed out that she thought the bank did contact us, by way of her phone. She remembered it because she thought it weird at the time, that they called her to question use of my card.
She was visiting her parents in Florida when the call came, so she contacted me while I was at the day-job, a little confused over the details of the banks concern. She gave me a number to call, along with a case number for reference.
Given this additional detail, my fuzzy memory began to recollect snippets of the occasion. The fragments I dredged up led me to paint the picture thusly: I called and talked over the situation.
I do remember the feeling that nothing was amiss and my account was fine, which is probably why shortly after it happened, I forgot the call had even occurred.
Looking back now, it makes total sense that the problem I confirmed recently is related to that odd call in January.
Obviously, nothing was amiss with my account, except that my card wouldn’t work if I tried to use it. No transactions were ever approved, so I never saw anything suspicious on my monthly statements. Cyndie’s card continued to work just fine, and we carried on blissfully ignorant.
Yesterday, I received an email from an online forestry products retailer with this title: “Notice of Data Breach.”
Following an extensive eight week forensic examination, we have recently learned that the cyber attacks actually first occurred in December 2011. The forensic examination shows that beginning in December 2011, a person or persons without authorization accessed and possibly stole credit card information from our website belonging to our customers. The thief or thieves accessed our website remotely and overcame our firewall and security protections.
I did make a purchase at this site. This is where we bought our Swedish log splitter and a device that holds long branches for cutting logs with a chainsaw.
Their message went on to describe “…types of information stolen appears to include credit card numbers, cardholder names, CCV numbers, credit card expiration dates, addresses and phone numbers, email addresses, log- in and password” to their site.
Well, apparently they didn’t get my CCV number! That is why the multiple attempts didn’t go through, according to the person I spoke with at my bank.
I find it interesting that I was so quick to discount that anything was wrong back when I made the call in January to see why they were contacting us about our account. My Spidey sense™ was not tingling.
Maybe I wasn’t properly honed in on “the moment.”
Ya think?
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Not Long
It is funny to me that I find something slightly amiss when I return home from work in the late afternoon and decide not to dive into some project or another around here. Between the excessive heat warning we have been living under in these parts for the last few days, and my not feeling quite on top of my game, I have avoided doing any real work after I have arrived home from the day-job. It feels wrong.
Therein lies my challenge of living in the moment. There is nothing wrong with taking some time to rest and recoup. I should be enjoying the time to the fullest.
There is so much that I (we) want to get done, that it feels unsettling to allow time to pass without achieving any significant accomplishments. Daylight is growing so noticeably shorter. The month of September looms large on the near horizon, and schools and fall sports are primed and ready to launch. We are in contact with our anticipated source for horses and plans are being initiated to make the transfer of the first 2 of 4.
That adds a bit of pressure to finish additional things in and around the barn. In classic form, as each task accomplished gets checked off, two new things needing attention appear. The closer we get, the behinder we are.
I’m hoping for a new burst of energy to emerge when the oppressive heat and humidity move on. I’ll be working to get everything shipshape and Bristol fashion for the new residents of our barn and paddocks.
Relative Something 