I spent a good part of the day (the best part, to be honest) on my knees in the dirt doing fussy weeding and then even fussier thinning. That's what I thinned and also picked- carrot seedlings and arugula and mustard greens and kale. Part of it will be my salad tonight.
The sprinklers are on the garden right now. We still haven't gotten enough rain to wet a cat whisker since the storms and no rain is forecast for the next week or so. I miss the rain. I miss it bad and so do the trees and the plants and I imagine that even the dirt thirsts.
I cleaned the poopy hay out of the hen house and found these in the nests.
"I am Mick, a jealous Rooster God!" he may as well be saying. "And thou shalt have no other Rooster Gods before me!"
I got invited to join a Facebook group today and it has been a joy. Pantsuit Nation. On their page I have found so many, many stories of women and men who are voting for Hillary and each one of them has cheered me so. And such beautiful pictures! Women with their daughters, women with their sons and their Hillary-voting Bad Hombre husbands. Women and men who are over 90 years of age! Little girls dressed like Hillary, darling little boys, dressed in their "I'm with her!" shirts. Wives with their wives. Husbands with their husbands. Each one like a sip of cool, clear water in this desert of fear I've been walking in. Each one a sort of relief to my soul. Each one a positive message sent out to the world. Each one a statement of hope that this woman who is so very, very qualified to be president, who has handled her long life in the public eye with such grace and determination and hard work, this woman who has faced hurdles and challenges that no male candidate in the history of our country has had to face, will succeed.
And dear god, did I need that.
And so it has gone. It is going to get chillier tonight. Perhaps Maurice will sleep with me again although she slept so close to me last night that she was more annoyance than comfort. Tomorrow Lily is coming over with the boys and Maggie for pancakes and bacon in the morning, and my sweet, good husband will be home by suppertime. He is feeling so much better.
One day at a time. We can only walk this path one day at a time and some days, it is best to walk as slowly and as mindfully attentive to the goodness of it as possible.
Which is exactly what I've tried to do.
Peace to us all.