Anniversary Celebrations

This is a sort of rare occurrence. Six years ago today I married L and for pretty much the first time since our wedding day, we aren't working on our anniversary.  Usually we are moving cows from the summer barn to the winter barn or doing our monthly milk testing on the cows or plowing fields or harvesting corn or doing something farm-related and there just isn't time to celebrate ON our anniversary as a consequence. Such is life on a farm.

But today is a Sunday. A day of rest.  And I had thought briefly about going out to eat or hiking thru the woods or doing something to celebrate our anniversary on the actual day for once.  But I can't.  I'm at my parent's house, loading my van and getting my kids ready to drive back home after a long weekend vacation. And L is at home...several hours away...

So, yet again, we aren't doing anything for our anniversary on the actual day.  But I've found it doesn't matter all that much because we celebrate our marriage every day anyway.  It's in the small things-the I love yous, the holding hands, the raising of our children, the daily routine that makes up our lives and being helpmeets to each other. So when we acknowledge our marriage every day, we don't NEED to celebrate it on that one day.  We already do...

Sure, we'll probably go out to eat sometime in the future and say, "This is our anniversary dinner." and maybe the next year will go by and we won't have done anything at all.  But it'll be okay either way.

I'm still going to hurry home as fast as I can (or at least as fast as the speed limit, traffic, weather and my children's bladders will allow) so I can give my hubby a hug and tell him how much I love him.

Happy Six Years, L.  I can't wait to see what the future holds for us.

Leaves falling like tears

Last week, a friend of mine S passed away rather unexpectedly.  She had been diagnosed with cancer a year ago but appeared to be pulling through despite seemingly insurmountable odds.  Then, last week, she was gone.  Just like that.  Her passing leaves a very large hole in her family and her community. Many of us have been touched by her generosity, thoughtfulness, and kindness more than once and it's hard to think that this person who is/was so dear to so many isn't here. And while I'm so very sad at her passing (as many are), I'm also happy because as one wise person put it, "Her battle is done."

I've been thinking how, no matter how difficult it seems the last few weeks have been for myself, nothing can compare to what S went thru in the last year.   I've had my days of 'what ifs' and 'why mes', but when placing my troubles next to what S must have experienced, mine are the lesser. And I've been reminded of some pretty strong truths.

~Live life to it's fullest and as if every day were the last for you never know when your time will come.

~To count my blessings and celebrate even the smallest moments.

~Putting others first is so much more satisfying than putting myself above all others.

~No matter how bad I think things are for myself, there's probably someone whose feeling the same.

~Believe and I mean truly believe in miracles.

~There's immense power in simple, honest words and prayers.

~Most importantly, never to give up on my faith for even if everything else is gone, my faith will still remain.  

And I've been thinking alot about S this week as it's Autumn and even the trees seem to crying at our loss as their leaves fall earthward like the so many tears that have fallen. Nature is slowing down and life is going dormant in preparation for the long Winter's rest so it's fitting in a way that S went to her peaceful rest at this time of year. But, while things are easing into their restful winter slumbers, there's that one last brilliant splash of color as the leaves change to their Fall coats.  And that's S to a tee-vibrant, colorful, and full of joy. 

Garden, Garden, where's my garden?

I do this every single year...I've killed supposedly un-killable aloe plants.  My thumbs are only green if I've been painting with green paint.  Things only get watered if the hubby reminds me or if he's kind enough to run the irrigator past the garden.  And my chosen method for weeding usually involves a fully-fueled weed whip. My theory on gardening is to let my husband plow the garden and smooth the dirt as best he can with the tractor, plunk some fence posts in the ground to roughly mark my rows, dribble a few seeds down the (mostly crooked) row, weed once or twice a summer, and pray I get something out of the weed patch I call my garden. (I always picture a sign by my garden saying, "Weedville Population 10,000")

A master gardener, I obviously am not.

So why do I continue to plant a garden year after year? Because there is just something about eating a tomato YOU raised and tended and (in my case) rescued from the chicken's beaks and children's grubby hands.  That fresh-from-the-garden taste can't be duplicated with store-bought produce.  I start off each year with the best of intentions-daily weeding, regular watering, and neatly labeled stick straight rows. And each year, I end up losing those good intentions somewhere after I've planted the seeds.  But I persevere because I'm hopeful at some point I'll get so enthused about gardening, I'll ENJOY pulling those weeds and I'll be HAPPY to dig in the dirt and I'll NOT kill every other plant out there.  And c'mon, who doesn't love those juicy red tomatoes picked straight from the vine, those sweet cobs of corn plucked from the slender stalks, or dig those fist-sized spuds from their dirt home and know "I did this. I GREW this."?

And every year I do a little more. This year, I got an extra weeding in there.  Yep, I weeded a whole THREE times...A new record for me. I downsized the size of my garden and I weed whacked the weedy section before it could go to seed so I prevented at least this year's crop of weed offspring from adding to the population boom.  Another new thing for me.

And the African Violet on my window sill is going strong even after a year and a half of semi-neglect...

Hmmm...There might just be a hint of green in these thumbs 'o mine after all.