A Grandmother's Poem

Grandma Doesn't Care by Judith Bond

I got some jam on her new couch,

But Grandma doesn't care.

I lost my toothbrush, dropped a glass,

My old jeans have a tear,

I tipped the cat dish on the floor,

My feet are always bare,

The way I look is a disgrace,

But Grandma doesn't care.

She's very busy, then she sees

The tangles in my hair

She gets the brush, I make a fuss,

But Grandma doesn't care.

When I am grown, and on my own,

When visits become rare,

I won't forget the love I'd get

When Grandma didn't care.

Monday is Wash Day

Somewhere way in the past, some woman decided that her work had to be ordered to get things accomplished.  And some woman decided Monday would always be wash day.  It spread, as so many things do, and for a long time, it was tradition.  I still do my wash on Monday.  Although I don't have to worry about ironing, which used to take up Tuesday and sometimes much of Wednesday, now I only wash on Monday.  If I have a small load I will do it on Friday also to get things caught up.

Tuesday has become my errands day.  It's the day I get out and run around town paying bills, getting groceries, etc.  I try to buy most of my groceries once a week, and only go back for small things in between.

So tomorrow morning, after coffee, because I can't do anything before, I will get busy and divide my clothes and wash.  I clean house in between loads, things like dust, run the sweeper, straighten the living room and bedroom.  

What is your schedule for Monday?   I would like to know.

Until next time.

What I'm Reading

Every year I search out those blogs that post reading lists.  I love to see what others are reading and what they like and don't like.  It gives me ideas for the year.  So I'm listing what I am working on reading right now (I call it work because I rarely have alot of extra time, so it's work finding time to read!).

Right now I have on my night table:

Fiction

An Echo In The Bone, by Diana  Gabaldon.

Non-Fiction

Theology and Sanity, by Frank Sheed

Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace, by Scott Hahn

Self-Help

The Feeling Good Handbook, by David D. Burns, M.D.

E-Squared, by Pam Grout


I'll try to list these at least once a month, perhaps more often as I go through so many.

Widows....and breakage.

I think I can vent here, since no one ever looks at this blog anyway...but I digress. They say when you are widowed, three things break immediately.  I dont' know why that is, but it does seem to happen more times than not.  In my case, it's been 9 things in less than two years.  On a fixed budget, that makes it impossible to replace things.  So I'm paring down, I no longer have a dishwasher, that was about the third thing to break.  I had to have a hot water heater, that went out the day my husband died.  The tires for my care (2) had to be replaced, that was a given.  The washer still works, although it leaks all over the floor every time I use it, I can't afford to get it fixed.  The lawnmower died...I waited until someone turned me in for high grass and bought the cheapest little push mower I could find.  Then the weedeater died...did the same, cheapest version I could find.  The microwave broke.  The car had to be worked on. My brother got cancer and had to travel two hours one way to a doctor, so I helped out as much as I could.  The little cheap weedeater just died again.  Geesh.  Now, it's not like I live high on the hog.  I have a small 900 sq ft house.  I drive an old used car.  I don't have alot.  I get my hair done on average once every four years.  I dont' do my nails.  I don't do pedicures.  I don't do fancy clothes, if I can't buy it at walmart or a thrift store, I don't buy it.  I don't spend on high dollar makeup...in otherwords, I'm super low maintenance.  But still.  My debt is WAY out of control, because I have to eat, and buy gas, and buy toilet paper.  Decided to try to do Dave Ramseys debt thing...my son in law lost his job, they have four kids to feed, and my brother has another surgery coming up in a week (he has stage four cancer).  It's enough.  Enough I tell you.  I'm telling the universe, it's enough.  I need something good to happen in my life.  I don't know what I'm going to do when my washer finally gives up the ghost.  Wash in the sink I guess.

Is it Spring?

It's cold today.  Surprisingly so.  And yet, it is spring in Kansas.  What are your plans for this weekend?  I have so much to get done outside.  An entire ditch to clean out.  A fence to put up, General cleaning in the yard, Cleaning of flower beds, weeding.  Cleaning out the garage, and organizing same.  It will take me years to accomplish all I want to get done.  The fence is the thing I'm working on this summer.  And then a henhouse.  Then a greenhouse and after that, a small garden shed.  Then a patio and add-on to the back of the house for an eventual closed patio/back porch.

Is it spring?  Yes.  Time to go to work.


Until next time.

It's Springtime, Get Your Garden On.

Hi all!

Spring is here, we have gotten the first good rain of the year here in South Central Kansas, and I'm noticing more and more of my bulbs are blooming.  The Daffodils are up, and the Daylillies are through the ground.  

I've gotten my potatoes in the ground and they are getting rain as we speak.  I have one small area I would like to get some carrots in, but at this point, they will wait until the waning moon next month.

 Can't wait to have a yard full of beautiful flowers and plants and shrubs.

I'll be blogging more this year and talking about gardening and decorating the yard, as well as DYI projects in and outside of the house.

Until next Time.

This post is linked up with Lisa-Jo Baker's Five Minute Friday.

Tree

Ready, get set, GO!

When I think of a tree, I always think of that little acorn. 

Such a lowly beginning, having been abandoned by its mother, thrown to the ground, left to survive, thrive, or die all alone, one little tiny acorn.  But through the years, the acorn sheds it’s skin, silently realizing it’s true potential.  The potential to become a great oak tree.  

And so it struggles, sometimes for several years before it finally starts to take root, growing, struggling, finally finding a path through the debris of fallen life, tentatively sending down it’s dreams into the ether of the netherworld, stretching to find that one tiny little nugget of nourishment.  Hoping , waiting  in expectation for that one second when it’s legs reach a perfect spot, created just for it, and then Eureka!  It is done, it has found it’s heart.  The heart of the great tree that is to come, made up of many things that died before it, only left for it alone to nourish the great expanse of canopy that opens to the heavens.  

It is a tree.