Possible

In ten days, my Airman will be on sandless ground. Then, I will begin to breath, sleep, and live again. This has been the longest six months of my life. At least when I was pregnant with him, I could feel his movements and knew Just Where He Was. These months, I haven't. It has been tough. I think that is part of why I have shut down for nearly the past year. I haven't been able to bear anyone asking about him because I would force back tears. Is that understandable?

The Airman said that seeing the two HumVees in front of you hit a land mine changes how you see the world. It changes for the Mum of said Airman as well. I have always seen life as a series of ticking boxes: house, check; husband, check; college, check; job, check; check, check, check. I have a tendency to be too busy... to try to do too many things in too short  a time. Thus, nothing is a pleasure. It is a check mark. It is D O N E.

My Airman has taught me that it is the moment that matters. To slow down and really savor what one is doing Right Now. To stop and look at the frost on the windshield before I scrape it off; savor the berries I pop in my mouth; sip my tea; and, just be. I have learned to say "no" to the things I don't really want to do. It isn't because I don't want to be with someone, see something, go somewhere. It is that I want to be more focused and less rushed. Less busy. And I have started, when someone says, "I know you are busy..." to stop them right there and say, "yes, I am, but thank you." It feels good.

In 21 days, hopefully, my Airman will be flying through this continent long enough that I can see him somewhere, hug him a million times, and try not to cry while doing it. He hates for me to cry. "Ah, Mum, be cool. It's not that big of deal," he'll say. And I will reply, "Hush, sir. I am busy savoring the moment."

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Saturday the Mister and I went for a ride. This is unusual for us as we try to conserve gas and, frankly, our time is always so full we don't give ourselves this kind of treat. Would you like to come along??

This is Little Wilson Creek.
It runs into the New River.
Notice the ice still on the creek!
It has been so cold here that we still have ice
although the temperatures have risen to the 40s! 

Can you see the little house perched on the rocks?
We decided that the house was probably lived in the last time
this car ran. It is a late 1950s Plymouth.
It still has the interior, although it has been
home to a number of critters! 

This is the view from near Whitetop, VA.
It is easy to see why this is called "The Blue Ridge"
because of the blueness of the mountains.
To orient yourself, imagine you are standing in VA and looking
"down" toward NC. The New River runs through
the little "valley" in the center of the picture. 

We couldn't help ourselves with this one!
This part of the world has a lot of huge, smooth rocks.
Can you see how this one was chiseled out
to permit the road to come through?? Isn't it marvelous?

I hope you have enjoyed your little ride through the mountains today! Come back and visit again, won't you? 

First Day Musings -- Life on the Farm

We had good friends drop in yesterday to admire our woodstove while they consider if they want one or not for their place. Of course, we are sold on it, even though there is that whole having to cut wood all summer thing. It is affordable, warm, and, most of all, heats the whole house --- which is a novel experience as we couldn't before.

They wandered the property, watching as I took the girls to graze across the road for a bit, fed the hens, and then the goats. And they followed the Mister as he fed the bucks and put out hay. They repeatedly said, "We could never do what you do" as they watched us. I just laughed.

Most days on the farm, I love it. And then there are the days when the goats won't mind, the bucks beat me half to death, the dogs drag in deer parts, and the rain or cold makes it nearly impossible to get out. Or there are the days when I just don't want to do this; I just want to live in a condo somewhere and someone else does the yard work. In short, I am run down at the heels dead dog tired.

When the Airman was a wee Airman and it was just the two of us, this is the life I dreamt of and wanted. Now that I have it, I am sad that I am more than half through my life and on the downhill side at that. Yet, I can see that living here, doing what I do, will keep me younger and healthier than if I were in that condo. I would perish there.

Jane has the most marvelous post about how we all find what we love even when no one else shares that love. I guess that is how I feel about here. My dear friend Darlene made the comment that this house would do until she could find something better, I have to remind myself that her idea of better is a modular home in town. It is warm, safe, comfortable, but it would not suit me anymore than living here would suit her.

So, for all its quirks, there really is no place like home. Even if the chickens are on the porch and the goats eat my roses. It is home. What do you love most about your home?

Home Loving

It is difficult to tell who / what is happiest today -- me, the Mister, or the house. Being home changes the texture of my life so much that it is tangible.

After picking up my Mother who lives an hour away and running my 72,000 errands with her, I got home before lunch and managed to enjoy the whole afternoon away, never once thinking, "I have to get such-and-such done." Delish...

Among the many things I did yesterday, these scones found their way in the line up. Terrific for breakfast, snacking, or indulging.

Lemon-Poppy Seed Scones

2 c. all purpose flour

3 T. granulated sugar

2 T. poppy seeds

Zest of 2 lemons

1 T. baking powder

1/2 t. baking soda

1/2 t. salt

1 stick cold, unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1/2 c. heavy cream

1/4 c. plus 1 T. fresh lemon juice

1/2 c. confectioners' sugar

Preheat oven to 400-degrees.

Combine flour, sugar, poppy seeds, lemon zest, baking powder, baking soda, salt.

Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal.

Pour in the heavy cream, then add 1/4 c. lemon juice. Stir until soft ball forms.

Gather dough and pat out into an 8-inch circle. Cut into wedges.

Bake 12-14 minutes.

Mix confectioners' sugar and remaining lemon juice, stirring until smooth. Drizzle over the cooled scones.

Now, make a cuppa tea or coffee and eat!

These are fabulous and so easy to make. I like the simple ingredients. When I checked my fridge, after committing to making these, I discovered I didn't have fresh lemons or heavy cream. So, I substituted lemon juice from the bottle and yogurt. Fantastic!

I ended my very busy day of home loving by knitting one of Deb's waffle dish cloths. Have you tried one? They are superb and I adore the texture!

Today?? It is raining so I am attacking my loom / craft / needle room. If I don't show up for supper, send someone in for me, won't you??

Nothing As Sweet....

allposters.com

... as home... We say this, but have you ever thought about how truly fortunate you are?

Yesterday I was helping my parents finish cleaning up one of their rental houses for a new tenant. The previous one had pretty much trashed it and there was plenty to be done. As we closed in on the last of the work yesterday, Mother was telling me about how excited the new tenant was about the house.

Seems the woman was born with many birth defects and has required a great deal of surgeries. Many of the surgeries and defects have left her with very visable disfigurements, yet, she has the loveliest voice one can imagine, Mother said. This woman has met the man of her dreams and they are marrying and moving into the rental. And, she had big dreams for this little cottage -- a table here, flowers in the yard there, vegetables in the back. This was the home and life she had always dreamt of and doubted she would have.

As Mother talked, I thought about how fortunate we are that we all have another person who is meant just for us. And, I pondered a statement Mother made: "The tenant said she never thought she could have a home as nice as this one." That gave me pause. The house rents for very little, frankly, and is quite old -- at least 85 years old --- and had very little updates. While this can be charming, this house really needs a lot of love.

The floor plan is terrible; the floor dips in places in spite of being levelled recently; and, well, the bathroom could use a good gutting even though it is quite sizable with new fixtures and a ginormous porcelain tub. And, the carpets are new, the windows have been replaced, and the kitchen gets a huge amount of sunshine. But, personally, I would have to do a lot of cosmetic work to be satisfied .... until I was straightened out by a single sentence.

Then, I saw the house with new eyes.

I could see the quirkiness as charming and even the bathroom took on a quaintness that enchanted me. I wondered how many others had started there and birthed children and dreams together. In short, I had forgotten to count my own blessings until I had to realize what others saw as a blessing.

As I finished my painting, I did so with a conscious blessing for happiness as this new family begins in this house.

And, today, I gave my front door a kiss when I came in. Isn't home a blessing??