Yesterday was a dreamy one.

A nearby country town held a town-wide yard sale, so over miles and miles of countryside Tom and I 'saled' through fields and farms and barns and old farmhouses and Australian Shepherd dogs on porches. We've lived in this area for 16 years and we never tire of miles of 1800's houses, all styles, and cute garden sheds and picket fences wrapped around gardens. How lovely that so many people still hold deeply to a respect for the old days and old ways. Many of these farms are well-kept, allowing us glimpses of what we would have seen while tooling around in a horse and buggy in 1900.

We love that.

Our favorite yard sale was at the decrepit farmhouse of two little old ladies, sweetest things ever, who had priced all their cool old stuff so cheaply... a quarter here, fifty cents there. I would take pictures of what we bought from them, but Tom and I are headed out this morning for another town-wide yard sale at a different country town.

We stepped into dark, dusty barns and inside an aging Victorian and into garages and gazebos. So much stuff and we wanted to hurry to see it all, but Time out in the countryside slows one down. Perhaps it is the silence.

We ate lunch at the most old-fashioned diner, probably served food there 50 years, where our waitress reminded us both of a young Flo from Mel's Diner. Or Fannie Flagg. The food was cheap and great and the waitresses called many customers by name, names like Mr. Walter or Mrs. Evans. I sat there sipping my decaf, listening to Life in that place, smiling.

And after hours and hours of tables of old treasures and dusty brown and green books we traveled home and arranged our new finds in our own house and barn.

Happy sigh... How nice to still have days like that one, trips to places where many people believe no longer exist. Let them think what they will while Tom and I keep enjoying our travels back in Time.

So here's a picture of one of my latest unfinished projects (which are many). But at least I did begin, so I'm giving myself points for that. I had just a bit of masking tape left, I'd been procrastinating seeing how stripes would look and so finally I pushed past my inherent laziness and--as Nike encourages--I just did it.

And I like the stripes so far. I plan to paint only the back wall with stripes, for it makes rather a bold statement and, I believe, would overwhelm the kitchen if all the walls were the same.

Just do it... just do it... Push past that laziness. That's my song of this Springtime, my first Springtime down on the farm. Oh, there's so very much to do, but I'm trying to work smart, not hard. I'm trying to do this year what will make next year simpler, especially out in our yard.

So far, so good, but oh... I'm so very far behind on my emails and comments here at my blog. If I owe you something, please be patient with me. I've never before been a farmgirl in Spring.

**********************

Ew. Ew. Ewwww! (Gross Alert.)

I just came in from mowing our lawn where, unfortunately, I accidentally mowed over what was probably that same snake I told you about here. Argh. I absolutely hate it when I kill an animal, even a snake. And to top it off, by the looks of its guts (I told you this was gross), it was probably pregnant. So of course, I feel worse. But alas, as Dr. Phil says, guilt implies intent, and I certainly didn't intend to rip that poor snake to shreds. Besides, she had at least 15 minutes to hide under a rock or beneath the pallets (where she was just inches away).

Sigh. I hated to have this opened-up snake lying there for Tom to take away when he comes home from work, so I mosied over to our neighbors' barn where I knew Rob (we'll call him) was working. I told him the problem, asked him if maybe a cat or wild animal would just cart the snake away or would it just poof! disappear. He said he wouldn't mind carrying it out to the woods for me. What a sweetie! I must have said thank-you twenty times.

And I know... one must expect these sorts of things when one lives on a farm. But still, I feel dreadful... Poor snake--but at least its end was quick.

Some of my blogging friends are experiencing depression/melancholy/the blahs and I feel sad for them. I also feel deja vu when I read their words for I remember having those same sorts of weeks and years back in the 80's and 90's. But the good news? God set me from from depression and He can do it for anyone.

But now, for me, there are just occasional moments of melancholy and I've learned to--as Barney Fife would say--nip them in the bud. As in gardening, it's one thing to pull up a tiny weed, but quite another to yank and tug a huge monster weed which has been allowed to grow a long, mighty root.

If I feel sadness or a discomfort within this skin, if I've lost my joy and contentment, I immediately begin asking myself questions:

What sorts of thoughts am I thinking? What am I concentrating upon? Too much of one thing? Too much of a negative thing? Am I wallowing in self-condemnation, being way too critical of myself--or others?

Am I holding a grudge toward someone or resenting God, even? Has my heart grown impatient? Am I gossiping? Am I obeying my convictions?

Am I holding onto the past, am I trying to live there? Am I holding onto a fear of the unknown future? Am I worrying about anything or anyone?

Am I eating right, or am I eating the sloppy way I used to in my carefree 20's? Am I taking my vitamins and getting enough sleep? Am I working too hard? Have I taken time out for fun lately?

Am I mistreating the people in my life? Am I nagging my husband? Am I ignoring him or my friends? Do I owe a lot of emails or apologies?

But usually? Usually, for me, the problem lies in one place. Often when my peace has vanished it's simply because I've gone all out-of-balance and I've been desiring something else more than I desire God. My hunger for things or activities or my own way has become greater than my hunger for more of God in my life.

When my minute-by-minute relationship with God is tight and right, then all else amazingly falls into place. When I'm close to God, when I've got a grip upon His strong arm, I can never wander away more than a short step before He pulls me back... before He brings me back to center... before He restores and refreshes my soul.

My hourly hunger for Him, for me, is the key. For He is Light and Goodness and Joy-- and it's inside His presence where I want to remain and dance and celebrate all the days of my Life.

**************************

Psalm 16:11
"You will show me the path of life: in Your presence is fulness of joy; at Your right hand there are pleasures for evermore..."