Learn from the way the wildflowers grow...

 {the quote inscribed on a frame my daughter gave us the night before her wedding. 
It is verse from the Book of Matthew, her and Kev's chosen reading for their Nuptials}.

I often like a little order in my Life. Things a certain place or a particular way. 
Dignified.  Refined.  Normal.
To an extent.

Then I love to look at what appears to be unruly Chaos and see the good that can spout from it. 

{My neglected compost bins. But look closely and all around for the treasures that have emerged from my lack of turning and taming the heap:

an eye level pumpkin

and volunteer sunflowers}.

Too much conformity and tidiness is not a good thing.  

It's like that in Nature and Life and Families.

A little freedom to bloom where one lands and changes in the wind promotes creativity and innovation.

{Last years pigs left behind a few mementos from the garden scrapes I fed them,

pumpkin and squashes everywhere they where. Quite organic in the most profound way.}.

 Maybe a few pleasant surprises along the way.

My children now grown, are scattered about like wildflowers.
 Still learning and growing each in their own way. 
Blessed to have their Loves alongside them to blossom how they are intended. 
For that I am Happy. 

I have much to learn from them now in return.

Arrangement courtesy of my mother and her roadside walk.

 

You all already know that it is hot, so I won't mention that.

I arrived back at the farm yesterday morning somewhat dreading the garden chores when my mother, her Ray and my 20something year old niece Amanda pulled up the drive way.

 Reprieve.

I could entertain them and put off the work until later.

Good Plan.

 

NOPE!

 

Amanda was the first to say that she wanted to pick some fresh veggies and learn how to garden.

So out into the heat we went.

Ma and Ray followed right along.

What would have taken me most of the day, was accomplished in a flash.

 

We came in, cooled down and replenished our bodies with water.

Next I got the canner out and prepared the jars, while Ma and Amanda sliced cucumbers for pickling .
All the while we were preparing lunch.

In the background, Ray was telling stories of how his parents gardened and preserved food.

My kitchen was the scene of 4 persons performing their tasks in perfect rhythm.

Generational support at it's very best.

 

A day not long ago. My daughter, grandson and mother.
Three generations enjoying work and laughter.

After the clean up, it was splash time in the pool.

and then naps for all.

  I thought of my husband and sons. Working in a non air-conditioned metal building in the family business started by their father/grandfather.

They would put in a 10 hour day in extreme heat conditions.

No dip in the pool.

No Nap. 

 I knew each would be looking out for the other and working in the best rhythm they could.

Generational support at it's best.

Stay cool my friends.
Enjoy the support of your families however it is offered be it with a hoe or glass of water,
 coming together from various places for a beer and chat after work,
  a call for advice or to brighten a one's day.
It all matters.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



The Learning Curve

By now I had hoped to have baked many loaves of bread from my successful wheat growing experiment. We cut down the beautiful hard spring red and kamut wheat and I winnowed some.

Then stored the rest to process as time allowed.

In the barn.

 Bad idea.
 BAD, BAD idea.

 It seems that all the mice in Page County heard the news of my novice mistake and had quite the grand feast. No doubt laughing at me while gorging themselves silly.

 

So with just few cups of kernels to mill into flour, I decided to wait for just the right moment to bake my lone loaf of bread. Bitter cold temps predicted for the week seemed like that perfect moment.

 

Enter mistake # 2.

As I was showing visiting friends my lovely jar of wheat, we noticed moth-like critters flying and crawling around through the glass.  

 

 

 So bird feed it will be.

Still lots to learn it seems.
I will try again.

 

And keep at it until I get it right.

 

This incident reminded me of the first adult sized sweater I attempted to knit. I was so proud when I finished that second sleeve. Couldn't wait to try it on. Then came defeat and tears when I realized this:

 

Not only is the length off, there's a good two inch difference in the diameter of each sleeve from top to bottom. HOW did that happen???

 

 

The sensible thing to do would have been to rip out the offending sleeve and re-knit, but I was so disappointed and embarrassed with the error that I shoved the whole thing in a dark corner. After a time, when the sense of defeat subsided, I picked up the needles again and went on to successfully knit many, many sweaters, learning a little bit more with each, getting better with time and practice. I've kept the lopsided cardigan as a reminder that mistakes are nothing more than opportunities to learn.

 To try again.

 

It's a good thing to pull and error out of the dark corner of a room, or a barn...or the mind.

And smile at the gift of perseverance and second opportunities.

 

 

 



Follow the Leader

.

 

The Neighbors

 

That's a lot of responsibility.
Hope the big guy knows what he's doing.

And that they are all headed in a good direction.

 Linking with Camera Critters