There is such a nice feel to the mornings this past week. Fall is creeping in and trying not to be noticed yet. Funny how only those who get up early really notice. With coffee in hand I step outside and get that nice little shiver that isn’t really from cold, just unexpected coolness that refreshes the spirit and spurs my thankfullness.
I miss the connection we had once through the old Covenspace blog site. I guess that will never be recaptured. Luckily friends have been retained. I think the blurbing aspect of Facebook unsettled me for a moment. It’s taken over such a huge portion of my life that I needed to reclaim myself. I’ve never been a gossip – ever. I believe the intimate details of people’s existance should be their own unless they seek me out personally to share a secret or a special thought. I’m tired of seeing the originating site of Fuck You or Women for bashing balls – it is so unlike how I am and what I allow in my mind. I believe we have to control the contents of our minds for our peace of mind. Good things in, good things out. Maybe that’s niave, but it’s what I think and it’s not on Facebook. Now I have to say, I love M’s video blog updates. I sit and watch every one and wich we had a cup of coffee and could sit and watch the hummingbird feeder and the morning glories grow and just chat. I love the pictures of the grandbabies and the antics that get shared and the prayer requests.
I can’t look at another abused dog or cat or child or woman or elephant sucking a mans head into it’s ass – I’m tired of being upset by political things that are important to me only to find out it’s been cleverly photoshoped. I don’t like American Dad, Family Guy, or The Simpson’s, or Cleveland Brown, or South Park. Crude is not funny. Rude is not funny. Nasty is not funny. Porn is not funny. Pain is not funny. Oh, we all laugh, but it’s not healthy. It jades us and makes us an insensitive people. It’s not how I want to be. Anyway. I just need one more week … one more lovely, busy, focused week without Facebook. I love my broomies, my family, my friends… but I love this little bit of time off.
It’s been good for me.
I’ve been productive. I have fed my soul. I am in pain – I am walking. Dr. says my pain is nerve pain. I have no idea what this is. I’m simply thankful my hands are ok. I know Steve’s tired of hearing me talk it out loud. I’m tired of trying to decipher it constantly. It is what it is I guess. We are $600 in the hole and I don’t see a way to recover it. Maybe Steve will figure it out. Anyway. Back to my reading and knitting. I have the day off today to do what I want before The week kicks in and gets BUSY!!!!
Other than that, I’m just slowing down – my menopause is coming – Last real period was in June. In July I tinged for 6 days. Just a literal spot on a tampon – not even enough to wear one. This month, barely more. Dr says perimenopause. lol I can stop worrying that I can’t find Ultra size tampons now. Funny how this is unfolding as well. I also notice a change in the skin on my hands. I think I’ll start being diligent with the Oil of Olay. I’ve always been vain about my hands. Only thing on me I ever thought was pretty.
I think I’ll find a way to watch my LeslieAnn Warren Cinderella today – I feel like seeing it while I knit. I talked to Taryn last time she called about finding her own go to song for when life gets hard. It’s ok to call me to sing to her, but the chemical reaction it stimulates in her body when she sings is something she needs to fight depression. It’s a proven fact. I love singing for her, but someday, she’s gonna have to rely on herself. Sweet baby. Life’s been hard for her and she’s just begun it. I love my kids. This is not gonna be their last incarnation. Gods help ’em and love ’em.
Slow and easy today – may we all feel a little peace and see our blessings for the size they are. If we cry, may there be tears of joy mixed in with all the others and may we have the wisdom to keep them in perspective.
Today is the anniversary of the stillbirth of my 15 week old son, Jamison Whitten Garret. Aug 25th, 1989. He had all his parts and fingers and toes. We buried him behind the house on Knotty Pine Ct in Buford GA in a shoe box with fiberfil and a piece of blue fabric. I would have called him Jamie. He looked like Vanessa and I can still see his little face and how he looked in my hand. Funny the things that we remember years later – and their impact. I never knew why he died. he just did. He would have been 23.