I Know How Kitty Feels LOL

From failblog.org

 

The Feel Of A Day

I was wondering today, as I often do, precisely what it is that makes

the  feel  of a day vary?  Much the same way in

which time seems to flow by differently.

Fact and science tell us that it is the same number of hours in each day.
The weather may prove to be exactly the same on two days that feel different.

And it's rarely tethered to any significant events, challenges, or crisis.
Nor to any enjoyed specific activity or occasion.

Oddly, I sense it more on average sorts of days.

A day will simply feel differently than others - akin to a subtle flavor variation in food. Time will seem to fly or stall or be 'just right' based upon a scale I cannot pin. Yet, at the risk of overusing a single word, lol the feel, the tone, of a day or the flow  of the hours therein varies.  For no reason I can grasp I can clearly delineate the change of essence (if that makes any sense at all).

The feel of a day, the sense of how time flows alters in
my world. It's a fascinating, curious, mysterious

part of the days as they stroll by me....

Is it so for you too?

A Farmer Parable

A  Parable



Long ago the story was first told of a farmer who worked his fields.  He had little money and only a single horse for plowing. One afternoon his horse ran away. Everyone who knew him said, “what a horrible thing to happen.” The farmer replied, “we’ll see.”

Several days later his horse returned accompanied by two wild horses. Everyone who knew him now exclaimed  “What a lucky man!”  The farmer replied “we’ll see.”

Later in the week the young son of the farmer attempted riding one of the wild horses but it bucked him off breaking his leg. Everyone shook their heads and said “poor fellow!” The farmer simply said, “we’ll see.”

The day following the accident, the army arrived in the farmers small village seeking to draft recruits. Upon seeing the son had a broken leg  they passed him by for recruitment. Everyone said “such a fortunate young man".

The farmer smiled and, as he always did, said yet again “we’ll see.”

                                                                             ~~~~~
I've always loved this parable. It reminds me that life, luck, and destiny shift and alter. Things are seldom exactly as the appear - what may seem to be a disaster is the seed of an answer. What may seem perfect in fact isn't.  Reality dances.

Above all life isn't static, but instead a journey.  Flexibility and perspective are everything.....

Monday Muse-Day Is Back! Number 3

Slightly early lol but I wanted to be sure to have it here awaiting your visits on Monday

 

Four random pictures

from the homestead, picked today
Do they whisper something to you?
Will you share here what they say?!

Just a bit of wool gathering, a bit of fun really :-)

 

If you'd like to join in, share a single word

(the first that comes to mind or otherwise)

that you think of when you see this picture montage....

Just One word.
(or more if you prefer)!!!

 

Perhaps a single word from a book or poem title?

Or one word snipped from a memory, or an impression, or emotion.

Easy Peasy - Just One Single Word.

 

I hope you'll join in and leave your "word" in the comments

on this, the next Monday Muse-day !
(PS Subscribe to comments to see everyones word, including mine

which I leave later in the week so as not to influence anyones first impression)

While I Studiously Avoid Politics Here...

This is a happy place for me (and hopefully for you who visit also, lol)

Thus politics and policy, amid my opinion on such, rarely make an appearance here.

This however speaks, I believe, to an issue which has no sides ~ or all sides.

It has been making the rounds of the internet - sadly with no authorship information I can locate -  as

I would LOVE to give credit to the intellect that drafted this!

No doubt one could easily slide this I'm about to share into a dark and argumentative place.

Please don't (at least not here, lol)

My point of view on this is this:

Since I was old enough to grasp and direct what my physical being needed or preferred I've stood strongly on the side of it being my choice to dictate the scope of all pertaining to my physical being.

Needs to be met, such as: hot, cold, tired, hungry, in pain.

Emotions occurring, such as: happy, sad, angry, frustrated.

Illnesses to be treated ~ or not.

To have children ~ or not.

To have a glass of wine or a beer ~ or not.

To consume healthy food ~ or not (rather often) lol

To consume twinkies ~ quite often (note: good with beer, lol)

I hold dear the concept and application that this little bit of real estate

comprised of water and bone, flesh and insanity should remain withing and under

MY control, my direction, as after all I abide and exist within.

I feel quite strongly that I am best qualified to choose my options.

(which at times differ from even those I love and who love me not to mention the world at large).

So you can imagine I'm not inclined to casually sign off on ANYone or ANYthing that slinks towards curtailing my ability to choose and direct my own rung of choice and destiny upon the ladder of life.

With that preamble (and one last request to read/view in the spirit shared) I give you

"Farm" Teaches Me ~ Different Meaning Of A Word



The Barn In A Rare Rain

All of my life I have loved words.
They have given me knowledge, insight, skill(s), history, comfort, challenge, stability. I am one of the geeks who can't contain my joy when the new year of 'word for each day' calenders arrive each December! lol  I admit to being one of those who flips thru the dictionary and thesaurus as a recreational activity (yes, really).

I adore the dance of word & phrase, painting visuals with the colors of the alphabet, applied with the aid of pen, paper, typewriter, keyboard. Books written by others are old and trusted friends. Most found filled with notes I've added from each reading. Pages marked during each search for fact, truth or answers to the unanswerable.

Words.

Meanings.

Me.

The way it has ever and always been.

Then came the farm. Nature observed. Reality on steroids.
Not stock market and fashion, but rainfall and rain-fail.

In your face - it's up to you - kind-of-reality.

And initially, a new bevy of words. From tractor technical to crop cultivating. An immediate "need to know" new vocabulary. But with time, as I was receptive and ready the farm began to teach me the more subtle, intricate word meaning lessons...

Take the word brooding. 

PF (pre farm) I (and the world) assigned it a fairly singular undesirable meaning. Catagorized it as a negative word. Akin to moody, depressing, oppressive, even obsessive, dark, difficult.

 

But when the Farm began to speak of chickens - brooding chickens - the meaning altered remarkably.
Suddenly, magically, brooding/broody becomes about goals, dreams, future.  "Farm speak" brooding describing hens that are sitting on eggs in their nest. Things hoped for. Things yet to be.

I understand now that to 'brood' is also: to pay attention, to care for, to aspire to future outcome. Progress. Planning. Working, heart & soul (and feathers if you're a chicken, lol) towards creating your future. Day by week by month by aching back and cup of coffee thru storm and sun as you plan and sometimes as you do not plan.

The farm shows me the lessons of the broody hen. Dedication, tending and waiting with no guaranteed outcome. I may patiently brood my nest of egg-ideas-plans-dreams and have no chicks. Or I may have significant success. Or a mix of some success amid some loss. But there would be no success without the attempt without the brooding. I've learned (and continually re-learn) the efforts must be based on the goal, the dream, the hoped for future outcome. The effort can not be based on controlling the outcome, or any guarantee. The farm continues to help me grasp the truth that life is comprised of goals and gifts amid hard work (brooding). But not on guarantees. Never on guarantees. Life, like nature, is far too fluid for guarantees. Work hard and long with hope and anticipation ~ not with expectation, righteous demand ,entitlement or attempts at dictating outcome.
*Leave the attitude at the barn and farmhouse door*

The farm, teacher that she is continually expands her role in my life education.
Right down to the expanded meaning and life-application of
my beloved

words....

What cleverness and insight walks amid these fields and woods, barns and grain bins. One hundred and forty two years of the past, the present and the future pause while I observe and and learn these lessons from this farm.

Another excerpt from 'the book'  :-) copyright FIDF 2012If you'd like to know when the book becomes available contact me via the blog profile and I'll add your email to the notify list

The Wonderful Time Of The Year

I know for many that rings true of Christmas/New Year, but not so in my heart. The easy contentment and richness of August to September to October, ah yes... The light alters. Every living thing bows and curtsies with respect and appreciation. The fields mature. The breezes and crickets sing oh-so-slightly-differently.  The very last sigh of summer will be audible as she relinquishes her domain to Fall. For me, this cusp of August to September holds the true deep magic within the march of the twelve months. This is where and when the moments of reflection and evaluation occur for me.....

Summer is serious. Speaking ever and always of what must be done. Plan! Do! Grow! Tend! Weed! Move! Move! Move! Paint! Plan! Back-up Plan! Water! Open Windows! Calculate! Close Windows! Progress Progress PROGRESS! "You Can Rest Come Fall" summer chants to me. Winter is hard and harsh in spirit it seems. The line twixt life and ever-sleep is far too thin for my liking. Life and limb require 'ner ending vigilant attention. Spring is jubilant, yet immature, obsessed, unruly. I love her well. But she stands upon the second rung of my heart...

Because these few weeks whilst sweet August ends and September is new ~ Ah, this is the hum of the universe for me. The plateau I rest upon as I survey my year. My heart. My dreams and clever or ill fated schemes. This time which is neither Summer nor Fall holds the earned and gifted moments of easy fulfilled contemplative transition.

Repair sail, reset compass, reprovision. Dream.