Saturday, October 18, 2014

let it be

It is a gorgeous fall day and I'm gazing at blue skies and orangey leaves until my eyes can't take any more. Except for that one glorious day in early May when all the flowers are blooming at once, this is my favorite time. Mother Earth is putting forth the harvest even if it is all industrialized, and new growth is already set. The cycles amaze me, even after all these years. My Daddy's funeral song request is "Hymn of Promise" about the bulb and flower and whatnot. As a farmer he has been keenly aware of weather conditions during his entire life and how they can crush a dream in a heartbeat. I was a farmer's daughter before country was cool...just saying.

I had an opportunity to chat with someone yesterday in private about issues past and it was nice to be one on one instead of hanging on the grapevine. It's my new MO and as it turns out is much less stressful than ten way communication. You can see honesty by looking someone in the eye if you know them well enough. Finally all those junior college psych courses have paid off. Well, that and five years of therapy. I think it's time again.

Our beans are late and just now turning yellow because of the wheat harvest delay. They sure make a pretty picture before they get dried up. The shadows are breathtaking around here what with all the trees and fields. Part of my new outlook on life (heh) is to do my very best to make amends to those who have helped a girl out. I could never repay the dollar amount, but I can sure as hell give it back in service or love. Our current dilemma involves some shady moves to get the electric bill paid (thanks for the rate hike TVA) and not lose the Cadillac to an engine explosion. A '95 Cadi must have oil changes for that huge ass motor.

Mom made it through the night by herself with BG on the couch nearby. When I checked in an hour ago she was still snoozing and about to see home health. This woman is determined to make it work there and daddy be damned if he won't play nice. He missed her enough during the past 8 weeks that one would ASSUME he would welcome his bride and not be an ass to his daughter. When donkeys fly, as they say.


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