So lately, ol' Debra is feeling every one of her 50-something years.
I'm puttering in my garden each day and mowing the lawn most days and you should see me collapse upon the couch during my many rest times. And even with my simplistic "inch by inch" style and the myriad resting times--still--I reach the end of my days barely able to move.
But it's the good kind of tired.
It's the type of tired I dreamed about on winter afternoons before the window while staring out across snowy fields. In my mind I yearningly pictured myself pulling weeds and planting seedlings and sitting upon the sunlight of my Debra-made-and-boy-it-sure-looks-it garden deck.
And now it's all taking place for real. The sunshine, the garden, the pushing around of my orangey wheelbarrow and the lolling on my garden deck which feels like a pier to me. And while it's all happening I catch myself complaining about the weariness which accompanies it. But! Immediately I remind myself that I asked for this. All of this--the farm, the big garden and meadows--for whole decades. I waited thirty-five years for all this work. So no complaining allowed.
No, if I'm going to murmur anything, let it be words of gratitude that I did not live my whole life without experiencing farm life and the work which comes along with it. The farm and the work are inseparable, bound together, so it behooves me to be grateful for both.
In other news.... At a yard sale this weekend I found a 1955 issue of the Niagarian, a yearbook from Niagara Falls High School. Don't you enjoy looking at old yearbooks? I own even older yearbooks, from the 30's and 40's, from a different local high school and I enjoy finding familiar last names from our area then searching online for any information I can find. For after all, the rather frustrating thing about gazing at old yearbooks is seeing all the fresh, happy faces of those teens and wondering how their lives turned out. I mean, I even create stories for some of the girls who look as though they may have been kindred spirits, but alas, my make-believe stories are just that. Make-believe.
Remember that bookcase Naomi gave me? I decided to put only my vintage teen books in it as well as my collection of retro high school yearbooks. Fun, indeed. Makes me feel young to behold such teen 'vintage-ness' in one place. As a teen I longed for those same books, but settled for the copies at the local city library. (So, alas, we're talking another long-held dream-come-true here.)
"And let the peace of God rule in your hearts ... and be thankful."
"And when the people complained, it displeased the Lord: and the Lord heard it..."