I almost hate to admit it, but I actually missed summer the other day. Being barefooted, picking whatever I need from the garden, nesting boxes full of pretty eggs, sneaking down to the creek, endless days and late nights in the hammock… and of course, not running kids around like a Tasmanian devil. I miss it. But I don’t. There’s plenty right here for me to enjoy, even if in a coat and shoes. I can’t be wishing away another day. I’ve done far too much of that.
Looks like most of the country is frozen, but we have highs in the low 60’s coming soon. It sure got cold last night, and will again tonight. That wild wind was yelping like a Yankee. I found the boomerang (that had been stuck on the roof all summer and fall) laying in the yard this morning. Must have caught it just right. I guess boomerangs really do come back.
My hens seem cold so I’m going to spread out a bale of hay for them today. I like to think I know when animals are cold, though my husband says, “They’re fine: they’re animals.” (He is most sensible) Tru is like me in this way, so when she feels cold she mentions how sorry she feels for the cats (who are darting indoors each time the door is cracked open). I felt cold for my kiddos in Kansas City when I looked at the temps there last night. I just hate the idea of anyone being cold. And when I’m cold, I’ll be sure to tell you to put on a sweater or socks. It drives me mad when my kids don’t wear socks on these chilled wood floors. They say they don’t feel it. I guess I’m feeling the cold for everyone in my family, near and far. Empath forever.
I’ve been gaining some strength back the past few days. I think I’m detoxed out, for the most part. I am either drinking milk kefir, water kefir, or kombucha. My skin is where I first physically see the benefits of releasing toxins. It is our largest organ, after all. I’m softer and more hydrated, and my skin seems soothed. Whenever I stay on the ferments, I find there’s a glow that comes with it. A healthy glow. It’s good incentive to stay consistent.
I have a lot being soothed under the surface, too. I have an incredible fella who prays over me at bedside in the dark of each morning. A man who has loved me through the worst and yet still believes the best. The debt of love I owe is gospel great. I don’t know why God gives good for bad, other than His nature is goodness itself. All of that warms me inside, and feels like a quilt tucked under my feet, or a steaming mug in my hands. There is consolation for the heart who will be consoled. There is soothing for the guts that are stripped. And it is a process. Good Lord, is it ever a process. I wonder what will boomerang back, having never really been lost, just stuck?