Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Having Enough
The spring growth of grass has already become more than the horses can keep up with in their never-ending urge to graze. Those days when we need to confine them to the paddocks are hard to watch as they crane their necks reaching under the wood fence for any morsels of new growth. They could never get enough. Since the gates to the fields have been open for a couple of weeks, they now have more than enough.
The nutrition feed we serve, which they compete with each other to gobble up all winter, suddenly holds less value. The first time I arrived to pick up the pans and found them still holding food was a big surprise.
The other day, the two chestnuts were so exhausted after eating only half of the serving of feed in their pans, they walked down the slope and laid down for a rest.
That’s the first time I’ve ever seen them leave food for a nap.
It was just a short rest and then they were up to wander out into the field for green grass again.
I figured out a way to work around the problem of the ground being too wet to mow yesterday by cranking up the power trimmer and cleaning up around the edges. That always makes the place look like someone actually lives here instead of the barn and hay shed looking like abandoned buildings.
Cyndie’s mom came for an overnight visit for Mother’s Day weekend and we dined out last night at our local supper club restaurant, Shady Grove, before settling in at home to watch the new Michael J. Fox documentary, “Still.” He is one tough guy who is still funny despite the difficulties he has lived through.
This morning, our kids are coming over to continue the Mother’s Day festivities with a waffle brunch.
What a rich blessing of a loving family and more than enough food. I am holding all the moms I know in my thoughts this weekend, sending love to you and the families you raised.
Love. Here’s hoping everyone is having enough.
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Peaceful Meditations
I had plenty of time to meditate on the gratefulness for a warm bed during a fever yesterday, and the luxury of having Cyndie be able to give me a full day pass from outdoor chores. This morning dawned much friendlier with sunshine replacing the gray skies of the previous wet days.
On Friday afternoon, I laid down on the driveway to capture a view of the precipitation falling that was flirting with the difference between sleet and hail. Today we have the bright sunlight amplifying the increasing green of our fields. You know the philosophy of meditating on what you want in order to manifest desired results?
Mia was showing a Zen-like focus on the acres beyond the paddock fence this morning. Even though it is sunny today, it is way too wet to be walking on our turf, as can be seen in the amount of hoof-traffic abuse the surface inside the paddock is suffering. The poor horses can’t help damaging the very grass they would love to be eating.
Soon, the situation will improve and the horses will peacefully be grazing in the pastures again. And, soon we will be walking the circuitous path of our labyrinth again.
In less than two weeks we will be hosting an event on World Labyrinth Day at Wintervale. My favorite global meditation for peace happens every year on the first Saturday of May as people all over the world create a wave of peaceful energy by participating in their time zone at 1:00 p.m.
World Labyrinth Day at Wintervale
I’m going to visualize May 6th as a beautifully sunny day with the ground dry enough to support foot traffic without becoming a mess. No matter what, it will be a day bursting with love and peaceful vibrations flowing around us from one time zone to the next. Cyndie will bake scones to serve with coffee and we will encourage meditations start before 1:00 and continue well beyond the official hour.
We will already be feeding the meditation of peace before it arrives and continue after the crest rolls away to the west for as long as there are people present to stroll.
If the weather is bad, well, we will make peace with that, too.
You do what ya gotta do.
Peace!
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Cyndie’s Story
Two weeks ago, I wrote about us attending a Moth story slam in advance of Cyndie’s plan to submit her name for an opportunity to tell her wedding cake story at the Amsterdam Bar & Hall in St. Paul. For those of you who weren’t able to hear her tell it in person last night, she has allowed me to post a written version for you.
Cyndie’s name was selected tenth –the last slot, out of twenty that had signed up for the chance.
Imagine Cyndie walking up on stage, standing under the lights in front of a microphone, and addressing a packed house. She is allowed only 5 minutes…
When my niece got engaged, she asked her mother to sew her wedding dress, and her grandma to knit a shawl and asked if I would bake a simple wedding cake. Thrilled, I said yes immediately… even though I’d never made a wedding cake before. Friends expressed concern over the huge responsibility I’d taken on given my lack of experience with wedding cakes. But I love to bake and was inspired by my niece’s invitation. I embraced this cake-baking opportunity with equal measures of optimism and naiveté.
That year, I baked dozens of practice cakes to test out on family and friends. I was blamed for inches added to waistlines and my reputation for baking in excess soared to new heights. It took me about 40 hours to mold sugar paste into candied pearls and colorful, edible flowers. With all that practice, my confidence grew and so did the cake. What started as a simple wedding cake had become a five-tier, white chocolate, lemon-raspberry layered masterpiece, stuffed with extra love.
Days before the wedding, my friend asked me how I planned to transport the cakes to the venue. I’d been so focused on baking, I hadn’t given it a thought. I quickly discovered that my mustang convertible with bucket seats is NOT the car for the job. My friend bails me out by loaning me her practical 4-door sedan as long as I drive and relieve her of any responsibility for the safe delivery of the cakes.
On the big day, I load up the car with boxes of cakes, buckets of extra frosting, edible decorations, and fresh flowers. I’m so nervous about transporting the cakes that I drive like a Sunday driver, on a Saturday! Thankfully, all the cakes arrive intact.
I carry the boxes of cakes like they are newborn babies and begin to carefully assemble the tiers of cake with the stands and pillars. I’m so meticulous about frosting and decorating each level to perfection that it takes me 2.5 hours just to finish the first four tiers. But I’m happy- already the cake is nearly 3 feet high and it looks as stunning as I’d hoped it would be.
As I reach to place the final tier, I hear a loud snap and then another one, as the pillars give way under the weight of the cake, and, in horror, I watch the cake topple over and crash onto the floor. A busboy says, “You are so [effed]” as he and the wait staff all run for cover in the kitchen. I can barely breathe but I manage to warn my friend, “DO. NOT. SAY. A THING.” She doesn’t and takes cover behind the bar.
I can’t believe I have just ruined my niece’s wedding day. This is exactly what my friends had warned me about. I can hear all the “I told you so’s” and the “what were you thinking’s” and see the evidence of not being enough piled high on top of the inglorious mess. I want to scream but I can’t because the only thing separating the wedding chapel from the reception hall is a thin, moveable partition.
Then the organist begins to play, “Here Comes the Bride.” I AM SO [EFFed]! My friend appears next to me with a shot of whiskey she’d stolen from the bar. I don’t drink whiskey, but on this day, I did. She asked, “What are you going to do?”
I have two choices- I can succumb to the despair of this epic fail or I have to rise up and fight with all the love in my heart to make the simple cake my niece had asked for. The fight is on. Baking in excess is now my saving grace. I have enough backup cakes. The groom’s cake is still intact and I can use fresh flowers to decorate so I kick my inner critic to the curb and ask for help.
The busboy –yeah, that one!– comes to my aid and scoops up the four-tier disaster on the floor, a waiter brings a fresh tablecloth and my friend fearlessly rips open the boxes and hands me back-up cakes as fast as I can frost & decorate them. I have to finish Wedding Cake 2.0 by the time the ceremony ends in less than 20 minutes.
I finish the second cake just in time to see the mother-of-the-bride walk into the reception hall, look at the cake, and, burst into tears. She says, “I didn’t cry at all during the ceremony but when I saw the cake… It’s so beautiful.” And it really was!
Sometimes, even I have a hard time believing the miracle that happened that day. But the radiant look on my niece’s face when she thanked me for baking her wedding cake helps me remember that anything is possible when I let love lead the way.
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Out of the ten storytellers, Cyndie’s performance earned a second place score from the judges, losing out by half a point to a tale that included both a tornado and nudity. The evening was a smashing (pun intended) success and made all the sweeter by the support of family and friends who showed up to cheer her on.
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Second Greatest
As I stepped out our front door to get my shovels for clearing off the deck yesterday morning, I heard the sound of a car engine in front of our garage doors. I came around the corner to find a gentleman walking around his car and we exchanged greetings. He said he lived just five miles away near the Rush River and added that our place looked really beautiful.
Dawn, Sunday morning.
Then he said he wanted to tell me about three things in the Bible… I politely interrupted him to let him know he didn’t need to finish. He asked how long we’d lived here and we shared a few more tidbits about ourselves. I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to do a little proselytizing, myself.
I said that I am all about love. He lit up and said love was what Christianity was about. My response is that love is what all religions are about.
My second greatest accomplishment after taking action to treat my depression is my enlightenment about embracing love as the single most important intention humans should focus on every single day in our thoughts and actions as we navigate our way through life. Love for other people, ALL people, animals, nature, the planet, ourselves, the universe, and mysteries in planes of existence we can’t even prove exist.
When you allow yourself to truly love, it makes it easier to forgive.
Love is magical.
Yesterday morning was a foggy one. It was a freezing fog, actually. While feeding the horses and cleaning up, I made my way in and out of the barn many times, getting their feed pans, filling bags of hay, getting the wheelbarrow and scooper, and retrieving their empty feed pans. Each time I came out of the barn, the fog had increased.
Dusk, yesterday afternoon.
First, I couldn’t see the evergreen trees across the road. Then, I couldn’t see the road. Eventually, I couldn’t see anything around us. It didn’t last long but it was around long enough for delicate ice crystals to form on everything the fog touched. I loved it!
While I was visiting with the guy in front of our garage, the icy crystals started snowing down off tree branches all at once. It created a fairy tale scene that made it seem like we were in a snow globe ornament.
At noon, I went down to the barn and worked on freeing the big sliding doors from ice that formed after the last storm of freezing drizzle and rain/drizzle/snow. A little calcium chloride helped get the job done.
With our winter hours, I’ve been feeding horses in the morning before the sun comes up and in the afternoon after the sun has gone down.
I sure love the views we get to enjoy.
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Hugs
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he still remembers
when she didn’t offer that hug
he wanted the most
loss of connection
can be worse
than never connecting at all
erosion implosion
feeding backward emotion
spirals intertwined
smokily lingering
longer than matters
except matters of the heart
follow special rules
and their own sweet time
quietly divine
energy field lines
spine-tingling kinds
minds can’t forget
what cells still recall
embodied realities
toppling over
in a free for all fall
long after lights out
when dreamland pulls back covers
to mystical worlds
featuring hugs
unconfined
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Good Citizenship
Neither wind, clouds, nor a barely attached foot kept Cyndie from fulfilling her goal of voting in person yesterday in the 2022 mid-term U.S. election.
It wasn’t a sure thing for a while there. As we were driving home from the lake last Friday, Cyndie was on her phone trying to find somewhere she could get in for surgery right away. Not sure when she might end up being anesthetized, Cyndie called our town clerk to find out her options for voting in a situation like hers.
She broke her leg after the deadline for requesting an absentee ballot, so she was told that her only option would be to make it to the polling location for our township on election day between the hours it would be open. If surgery was going to happen on Tuesday (yesterday), the clerk said she could try to show up just as they open at 7:00 a.m. and someone could bring a ballot out to our car for her to fill out.
There were no other options for voting if emergency situations arise close to election day. It seems like a strong case for requesting an absentee ballot whether or not it is known to be needed. Vote at your convenience and no waiting.
Luckily, our Tuesday schedule was wide open. We were busy on Monday and surgery is happening today.
We chose to head out after an assumed morning rush of people voting on their way to work and before a possible lunch rush. Living in a rural area, it’s not really an issue. There were two electronic voting machines and three booths for manually filling out a ballot. Two people were signing in before us and several people were voting.
Cyndie picked an electric option and since they were then both occupied, I selected manual. I fed my completed ballot into a machine reader and then Cyndie came with a printout of her votes from the electronic ballot device and fed it into the reader as well.
It seems the only thing their electronic device does is color in the selections for you. The choices from both methods were ultimately recorded by one machine.
The flow of voters was consistent while we were there such that the poll workers were kept constantly busy but the waiting was a mere matter of seconds for our township neighbors fulfilling their civic responsibility of voting for our representatives in local and national government.
I didn’t watch the news last night and avoided any hype about results. Regardless of the outcomes, we will continue to put our shoulders to the wheel of healthy progress and send love out into the world.
I read an interesting perspective on navigating the election storm written by Dahlia Lithwick. Think about the weather and the stars. The weather can get rough and the direction we are going can be obscured by clouds. Hang on long enough and the stars will be visible again to guide us toward our goals.
I vote for love. Follow the stars in the sky.
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My Experience
Moms and dads who are primary caretakers of kids who need to be clothed and fed, helped in the toilet, and supported and encouraged day and night do not get enough credit for the loss of their own personal time. Having sat down only to get right back up more times in the last two days than my old body is used to has revealed how much I prefer to stay in one place for as long as possible once I settle in for a rest.
My emergency room experience frequently involved feeling like I was in the way while slowly accumulating things to hold in my arms. I took the thick fleece jacket from Cyndie that was now overly enmeshed with fragmenting dried leaves after she had fallen and then tried using it to support her dangling right foot. It was dropping a trail of leaf shrapnel everywhere I went.
I was handed the dish towel she had tied up around the jacket to make a sling. I was handed the sock they cut off her foot. I was already shouldering Cyndie’s purse and handing her phone back and forth as she looked up info for the nurses. I was given Cyndie’s pants to add to the bundle.
Not long after, I was sent to the pharmacy to pick up her pain prescription before closing time. Cyndie asked me to buy a pair of loose pants to wear home from the hospital while I was there. Picture me trying to pick out pants for Cyndie to wear. Now stop laughing.
After the chaos of an emergency room, we got home to the challenge of getting her up the stairs into the “cabin” and settled into a lounging position. I was back and forth to the car several times. In my personal chaos, I set my wallet somewhere after returning Cyndie’s health card to her.
By bedtime, I knew I had no idea where that wallet was, except it had to be in the house somewhere because I knew the last time I used it.
Luckily, the routine at home is rather familiar for me, having taken care of Cyndie through multiple surgery recoveries. I still remember how to make coffee for her.
We need to survive the weekend. While driving home from the lake yesterday, Cyndie was on the phone with several treatment places, seeking immediate surgery, if possible. We had possession of her x-ray and the detailed analysis from the Hayward ER that Cyndie was providing to the people on the phone.
The description of her condition included the word, “comminuted.”
Comminuted: adjective
reduced to minute particles or fragments.
• Medicine (of a fracture) producing multiple bone splinters.
She was told she will need a trauma surgeon and none were immediately available Friday afternoon.
An appointment for assessment by a trauma surgeon is scheduled for Monday.
Moms and dads and people raising their grandchildren don’t get enough credit for their loss of personal time.
Luckily, love is the key that more than makes up for the loss. It’s a privilege to take care of our most beloved friends and family.
That’s my experience.
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Sad Goodbye
We are sad to announce that yesterday afternoon, Pequenita departed this Earthly realm for kitty afterlife under the tender care of Dr. Jenni at Kinnic Veterinary Service in River Falls.
Pequenita, or “Nita” for short, remained a wee one throughout her very active eleven years. We’ve been medicating her for a thyroid condition for a few months but she really didn’t like the pills, regardless the multitude of methods we concocted to finagle her acceptance.
This week she stopped eating, drinking, or using the litter box, signaling that her little body was calling it quits.
We have nothing but wonderful memories about the ten years she allowed us to be her human companions. One of our favorite stories is the time Cyndie cooed from the darkness as we were about to fall asleep, that Nita was giving loves on her face.
“I was just going to say the same thing,” was my response, “because Nita’s face is right in mine.”
Cyndie quickly came to the realization that she was getting her loves from the butt end of the cat.
Pequenita is already missed and indoor life around here will never be the same. We are relishing all the fond memories of the years she preciously enriched our lives.
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