People are always saying, "I've got to slow down," "I've got to take time for . . . ," "I need to do less." I know. I've been one of those people for years. Just look at the inactivity of this blog, for example. My goal was to post every Sunday afternoon/evening, but I usually find myself so exhausted after my "full and active" week that I have nothing, nada, zip, zero left in the tank for creative endeavors such as this. But what do they say about Karma?
A little over two weeks ago, on Thanksgiving Day, I broke my ankle. I was having so much fun running in the Turkey Trot (a 5K fundraiser for West End Fire Department's community youth programs) and I stepped in a pothole (it actually DID go to China, I think!) that took me right to the pavement. Broken tooth and ankle followed. It could have been more traumatic, I admit. There were plenty of EMT's around (hey, it was a run for the fire department after all . . .) and the Minidoka Hospital's emergency room was SO amazing; I was X-rayed, booted, and home in plenty of time for dinner at my Aunt Kathy's. Yes, the only real trauma was the number of people (many of whom knew my name, darn it!) that witnessed my apparent clumsiness. That is, that's the only trauma I believed I had experienced. I didn't know the real trauma was to follow . . .
Seven days of total inactivity. Seven days of ankle-elevated-above-your-heart. Seven days of sitting and icing. Then began the REAL trauma. Ten days of crutches, seven of them no-weight-on-your-ankle-at-all days. I was able to go back to school after the first seven days, but to be at school with crutches was pretty brutal. (I teach upstairs, and there's no elevator.) However, I survived. I planned cold lunches to eat in my room. I planned bathroom breaks for empty hallway times. I taught from a seated position most of the time. Things turned out just fine, but I was forced to slow down at this, one of the busiest times of year. I was forced to let the small stuff go, and I really did begin to realize, compared to hobbling around on crutches, everything really was small stuff. Instead of cleaning the kitchen stove, I posted last week's blog. Instead of cleaning the bathroom, I completed 4 scrapbook pages for Anna's book. Instead of cooking supper and cleaning the kitchen each night, I played word games and read while icing my foot. Come to think of it, it hasn't been all that bad. (But am I just saying that because I'm off crutches, walking on the boot, and finally have a clean bathroom?)
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Where have all the flowers gone?
December 4th. Wow. I have known I needed to post something, anything, but it has seemed an overwhelming task. My last post was the end of June, almost 6 months ago. Brook helped me out with a new design and added some photos, but even that didn't help me get started. See, this is what I'm talking about--I'm not too dedicated to journaling of any kind, but here I am again, hoping to make a new start and a new committment . . .
Summer came and went. Fall has been beautiful at the casa. I have a new compost bin; the apples were picked and some are processed and in the freezer; the plums were dried; the new garden spot, now in the place I've always wanted it to be, has been fertilized and plowed. We had snow the night before last, and the cold seems here to stay. No more days in the 40's and 50's. Let's hunker down for the long winter.
When we farmed I loved winter. Spring, summer, and fall were times of an unbelievable amount of work. We always felt behind in the farm, yard, and garden work. When winter came it was a great relief--even if we were still behind it didn't matter; there was nothing we could do about it, so it was time to enjoy the enforced rest. Winter didn't seem as long then either. We had from Thanksgiving until Valentine's day, but then we were in the process of gearing up again for the work time. Yeah, I used to love winter, but now I see it as a never-ending round of cold wind and grey days. Does that mean I'm not working hard enough through the other seasons?
Summer came and went. Fall has been beautiful at the casa. I have a new compost bin; the apples were picked and some are processed and in the freezer; the plums were dried; the new garden spot, now in the place I've always wanted it to be, has been fertilized and plowed. We had snow the night before last, and the cold seems here to stay. No more days in the 40's and 50's. Let's hunker down for the long winter.
When we farmed I loved winter. Spring, summer, and fall were times of an unbelievable amount of work. We always felt behind in the farm, yard, and garden work. When winter came it was a great relief--even if we were still behind it didn't matter; there was nothing we could do about it, so it was time to enjoy the enforced rest. Winter didn't seem as long then either. We had from Thanksgiving until Valentine's day, but then we were in the process of gearing up again for the work time. Yeah, I used to love winter, but now I see it as a never-ending round of cold wind and grey days. Does that mean I'm not working hard enough through the other seasons?
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