Labor Day

Here where I live, schools re-open their doors tomorrow, the day after Labor Day. Just one other old-fashioned thing here in New York state (I hope my blog has changed some of your minds about our state. Much of New York is lovely old farmland peopled with lovely old-fashioned folks. Honest.)

And so tomorrow--for me--Autumn begins. I like a long, extended Autumn so I start mine early, always on the first day of school. You can do that if you wish, tweak calendars a bit. Some people say they are individualists who don't follow crowds, but still, I watch them follow calendars, something I veer from as much as I can.

An amazing time of year, September. Today I watered a couple orchard trees then stood out in my garden and ate warm, meaty cherry tomatoes. I mowed the lawn in an autumn slant of light and just 78 degrees and then waited for Bob The Milkman who brought orange sherbet!

I painted bookshelves upstairs this morning, white, so they brightened the 'Reading Room' up there. And painted the window trim white, too, all the hours listening to The Waltons, episode after sappy, sentimental episode, crying in all the same places.

What a day, this day! Even though Tom worked nightshift and slept all afternoon and we couldn't have a picnic like the whole rest of the Country (well, Louisiana people are having no picnics either and I've been praying for them since early morning) still, my first Labor Day down on the farm was magical. What else do you call labor which feels more like play than work? If this isn't real, please don't tell me. Sometimes I wonder-- am I here or do I just believe I am here?

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You've never seen our upstairs Reading Room--and because it is currently so dreadful--I will show you only a corner:



That's McCartney on the chair. She and Lennon sleep there all day and then play noisily outside of our bedroom door all night.


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Right now I am reminding myself of my own advice. I've been finishing painting and decorating our upstairs guest room (finally) and before I get totally sick of decorating, I need to stop. Move on. Realize when enough is enough.

Or just stop and take a nap.

I spent way too many years leading an uncomfortable life, sitting upon 'dead horses'(activities which, for a time were alive, God-ordained for me) and expecting those dead horses to carry me along as they previously had. Other times I hesitated to move on because I was too emotionally involved/attached/wrapped-up or getting too many pats on the back.

But God doesn't ask me to do anything for a high approval rating. No, He asks for my obedience because it will accomplish His perfect plans. Or simply because He's testing me in the area of obedience:

Will I obey even though what He's asking doesn't appear to make sense?
Will I go when I'd rather stay?
Will I stay when I'd rather go?
Will I say no when I'd much rather say yes?

All those lessons! But once we can release our own agendas--that's when we are led to the best place. His places. The perfect places He meant for us to be. 

And how exciting to lead that kind of life--and to not fear it.

Today's Project

On Thursday I tweaked my left wrist while moving that new bathroom cupboard around, so it's been in a brace-thingy, taking a break of sorts. Yet one more detour in the road of accomplishment. Sigh.

But today I did paint the above shelf and hung it on the wall of our guest room. I like the added touch of color and warmth, what with all those white walls.

Much has gone smoothly since moving to our tiny farm. Much has not. So please keep that in mind when I tend to write like Pollyanna on speed.

But I will try to share a bit more often the glitches and problems Tom and I experience, because it's important that you not confuse our Healing Acres with a perfect sort of Shangri La. It's not been perfect--and oh my, the lessons I've learned! Yet it's those lessons which make it worth the bother, hassle and great annoyances.

But always I'm thankful for this one thing--that when my head lies back upon my pillow each night, it's the good and wonderful things which rise to the surface and make me smile before I sleep.


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