Sunday, February 7, 2016

and then she cried...

Morning came and found me sleeping off the end of an 11 hour nap.  Something got into me and I gathered up all the thank you note pile and headed to the kitchen for a session with nice cards and a fine tip marker from Curry Funeral.  I made it through floral contributions and decided that was enough of a start that Mama wouldn't be ashamed of my southern etiquette.  What I have left is the food and church contributions which will be never ending.  There is comfort in that, you know?

I've talked to either Annie or BabySister every other day for the past month which is also a comfort.  They love me through Mama and Daddy and their shared histories and never hesitate to tell me to "take care of yourself and have fun" kind of like Mom did.  That helps a lot, too.  I've moved the desk over by the big picture window so that I can gaze out over the silos and watch the scanty traffic come and go.  At the moment that includes one redneck  in a truck cruising over toward said compound of barn and  ancient grain bins.Yesterday I burned off the asparagus bed and managed to not set the field on fire so that's a good thing.  It sits right behind the propane tank, by the way.

I don't know what's next, and that's okay.  I trust that it will be "a good thing."


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