I picked up my sock knitting this weekend. Not at all excited to work on it. I have gotten to the point where I have turned the heel and am now just knitting, and knitting, and knitting until I have the required amount of foot. Around and around I go. But I keep at it because at some point I know it will be time for more excitement when I knit the toe and finish the sock.
I guess that is what I have been doing. I’ve been going through my daily routine. With an injured horse on stall rest, that now includes cleaning stalls and changing bandages daily. She isn’t very pleased to be in the stall and will clack her teeth at me. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK! It is her way of conveying her displeasure with her circumstances. Much like the scowl or raised eyebrow of an unhappy parent. Yet, in she stays, and on I scoop. But today, today felt different.
I threw open the barn doors and breathed in that lovely horsey smell. My mid sis, by the way, claims it to be the most disgusting smell she has ever encounted. I can think of way smellier smells. To mucking I went. Pick and toss, scrape and spread until I had two clean stalls. I let my gelding in at night so she can have some company. The price I pay for being a softy. Pleased with my labor, I brought my gelding in from the field and fed them both. Barn kitty got her food too and off I went to the chicken coop.
I haven’t been very pleased with my chickens lately. They don’t mind eating, but they sure aren’t laying much. I am only getting two eggs a day where last year I was getting six this time of year. I gave them a stern talking to. Freshened up their nesting boxes, food and water and closed them in for the night.
I was walking away from the coop with my two eggs and glanced up towards the house. And that was when I saw it; my grand ol Camelia (I call her Camy for short) has started to bloom. She came with the house and stands about 9 feet tall. Hubby keeps threatening to chop her down because she is too close to the foundation. But I stand in his way and champion her right to be there. Looking at her, I realized that while the boring stuff was happening, life was moving on, changing and evolving. I have been so caught up in the drama of my grief, I was missing what was happening literally in my own back yard. And so today, I put aside my daily thoughts, and bask in the knowledge that it won’t always feel so bad. I know it may turn dark again tomorrow, but I’ll take the sun where I can find it.