Well, I hate to admit this, but I spent yesterday in a state of, "poor, poor, pitiful me," which wasn't nearly as lovely as when Linda Ronstadt sings it. As a matter of fact, it was really annoying. When I'm in one of those moods, I start by spending far too much time looking outside myself for a solution: maybe if I took a break from This, or stirred up a little drama with That, or turned a stone over There.
Eventually, I decide it's time to get back in the flow of life, I stop looking out There, I see what's in Here that's not in synch with Life, and then let it go. This used to take me days and sometimes much longer. In the last few years, my 'turnaround time' has shortened considerably, sometimes lasting only for a couple of hours, sometimes no more than a few minutes. Now, if I could just manage to keep my thoughts to myself, my mouth shut, and stay off the computer (do not push send), no one would be the wiser. But, noooo, I have to call, or email, or do something else that's semi-self-destructive, like eat half a rhubarb pie. Similar, perhaps, to the one I made yesterday from my second rhubarb pulling.
Going into the turn, my friend, JB, called from Moab and listened for a minute, possibly three, to my self-pitying rant. Then he let me cry, without judgment and without feeling any need to try to fix it. He listened, knowing I would get it together and that, as always, it was only a tiny blip on my personal radar. Sometimes, it's the simple and real solution of hearing another person's voice, knowing someone is on the other end of the line.
The view from my kitchen window:
The fruit trees:
My place on the river:
The forget-me-nots that line the bank:
And this little tulip-eater, now under yard arrest while Ma gets some yard work done.
Yeah, it's a life for which I'm very grateful.
Oh my gosh, Teresa, your little tulip eater is quite precious...how can you resist that cute little face and the posture? what a babe!ReplyDelete
It's okay to have days/moments such as you had; it's what brings us back to gratitude eventually. About that rhubarb pie...I grew up with a rhubarb patch in our back yard so we had rhubarb everything but now? UGH! but hey, ice cream? rhubarb pie? whatever it is we need!
Just glad you made it to the other side...
and your yard is beautiful!
What a precious thing you have - a friend who knows to just listen! Have to say the pie looks pretty good, although I prefer some strawberries in mine. And I'd love a cuddle with your little felon friend. :) (Will he chase the turkeys?)ReplyDelete
I Find That Time Speeds When Yer Older.Which is not a good thing[of course].The blessing [which i never thought 'till you mentioned it]is that The Blues too get shorter!ReplyDelete
Although......Your medicine would do me no good! Pastry gives me heartburn !Hey~Hoy!
Oh I pulled rhubarb yesterday too. I had some with my cereal this morning. Those photos of your fabulous world and your tulip-eater are wonderful and could surely only make you feel better! xoxoReplyDelete
Tracy, He's my little guy. Love him to bits. And the yard gives me immense pleasure. It's quite the place to Be.ReplyDelete
I went through a no rhubarb phase, but that ended and now I have to show restraint. A lot more than I have.
Li, Yes, JB is a good friend. He knows me and likes me anyway. :)
The turkeys have been gone for a few weeks now, but they'll be back and time will tell. It could be tough for the wildlife to just relax around here, but I hope that will change and they will get used to each other.
Tony, A musician friend once said, about time speeding up as we get older, "Like telephone poles along the highway..."
If pastry gave me heartburn it might prevent such things as The Great Rhubarb Pie massacre of 2011.
Hi Joan! It really is a place that one can't help but feel gratitude, the land, the trees, and that little pup 'o mine. He makes everything better. Thank You.ReplyDelete
I had one of those days too. I wonder what is going on? I had to fill the tub and immerse myself in hot water and cry a river before it subsided. It could be the new baby blues that have me by the hook. I'm not quite sure. Sometimes I get a little martyr thing that grabs me. It's my own fault though. I try to please people.ReplyDelete
Just looking at your photos... I feel better already.ReplyDelete
It's been a funky couple of days but I had a talk with one of my goats today and went for a walk in the rain.
I felt better..., but then I baked cookies. Sometimes life is beyond understanding.
These moments do creep up upon us all, even though, as you say here so frequently, there is so much for which to give thanks. And, at such times, the willingness of a friend to just listen is such a comfort since, when all is said and done, the answer must and can come from within.
The blossom on your trees is absolutely wonderful and the 'contemplation' seat by the river must be a marvellous refuge to which we should certainly wish to escape often.
Sometimes, just noticing what we have, however humble, and taking pictures of it, and sharing/posting them on the interwebs, somehow brings us to gratitude. I look at my realm daily, and don't see what I see (and others) when I put the pictures out there...ReplyDelete
You are not alone in this time of challenge, questions, uncertainitude...many, as am I, are feeling it. There is so much more we see, and others do not, and those that see what we see...where are they? Why not at our doorsteps?
The hearth is warm, yet so many reject the simplicity of warmth, always wanting more. Being cold, but in synch with a program not of their making, embraced without question.
The waiting seems interminable, until we stop, breathe, and proceed without waiting for others...
This is on my mind, I hope it resonates a bit with you.
"The Great Rhubarb Pie massacre of 2011" !!! CRUMBS!ReplyDelete
TERI, Sometimes a hot tub of water is the place of refuge I seek, too. It can be very helpful in getting peaceful and perhaps the primordial sense of being in water feels reassuring. Baths have long been used as a regenerative place. I do wonder when others are going through similar things.... Our connections are so strong, but we often don't feel them in the day to day hub-bub of life.ReplyDelete
FARMLADY, I'm so glad you're here. Having a conversation with animals can be so good. They know about staying in the moment and finding peace there. Cooking and baking away tension is a family tradition, isn't it? It was in my family, too. My mother was wonderful at both.
JANE and LANCE, Yes, the answers Always come from within,and the choices we make in our individual lives are all we can do to ensure peace and stability there. My place by the river is a nice aspect to this place I call home.
TOM, Thank you for your words of encouragement and reassurance. Deeply appreciated. Proceeding because it's the right thing to do.... Your words resonate with me very much. Thank You. Very Much.ReplyDelete
If it wasn't for the blogs I don't know what I'd do, when I don't feel like doing anything else at least I can read about what other's are thinking and doing and that somehow picks me up and as Tom says posting on my blog helps me see what I have to appreciate too. Oh that rhubarb pie, it's been eons since I had a slice; your gardens, oh my what beauty you have there, the flowers and that place at the river, divine; then little buddy, who isn't so little any more, my how he has grown, such a happy guy.ReplyDelete
You are a very special friend, Teresa, even if we only meet here in Blogaritaville, I have to say it's amazing how much I feel I know you from your lovely words here. And pictures. Hugs and blessings from this little corner of the the universe to you.ReplyDelete
I wish I had eaten the other half of that pie. The way to a mans heart is a piece of pie or through their 4th and fifth rib .I live well when eating sweets. Living by myself I have been known to eat right out of that pie pan.I have a real good dessert to make with the rhubarb where you make a batter to put on top that becomes chewy.I had a lady fix it for me many years ago when I hadn't eaten rhubarb before and ate the whole pan, only to find why one shouldn't over eat this plant.Your yard looks lovely and I love the river bench.ReplyDelete
Linda, It is nice to come here to Bloggerville and visit with friends through our writing and photos. Buddy is growing every day. It's amazing. he's such a sweetie.ReplyDelete
DJan, Soulsister. Our connection is very meaningful to me and I'm so grateful for our friendship. Thank you for your kindness.
Steve, I think it was quite an awakening, the day I discovered I could eat chocolate cake right from the pan while standing in the kitchen. Perhaps it has not served me well in other ways... :) Chewy rhubarb topping.. MMmmm
What a fantastic place you live Teresa. It's so pretty. You can tell by the expression on your pooch's face he can't wait to get out there and raise more hell.ReplyDelete
Hey One Fly! Spring showing up yet out there? Thanks for the nice words about my place. It is a bit of paradise. Buddy is a little JD, ready to rock and roll at any moment. Love him to pieces.ReplyDelete
Your yard is a dream with all the flowering trees and shrubs. Makes me miss Minnesota. You've been so ambitious doing all your spring clean up. Most of my flowers bit the dust while my granddaughter was living at my Bozeman house. I had to replace bleeding hearts and I saw that great picture of yours.ReplyDelete
Have a patriotic holiday weekend.
I think we all get on our own pity party once in awhile but it sounds like you are able to pull yourself up and move on ~ and look at the beautiful spot you have to collect your thoughts in ~ your river spot looks so wonderful!ReplyDelete
And I think that sweet face of your pup would make anyone happy!
Have a joyful Sunday Teresa!
Hi Manzi, It seems the yard and its inhabitants turned green and lush almost overnight. It's so pretty and I'm very grateful for it. Have a good weekend.ReplyDelete
Thanks, Catherine. He makes everything much better. Happy Sunday!ReplyDelete
The blossoms are gorgeous...harbingers of a bumper crop of fruit, perhaps? I LOVE your spot on the river. A person could weep just from the beauty of it all. You have immense solitude and peace...sometimes too much? Or am I just projecting? In any case, thank goodness for puppies, friends, phones, and blogs!ReplyDelete
Hi Nancy, No, you are not projecting. Too much solitude can present other problems. People, for all the talk of otherwise, need people. Yes, all those things you mentioned make a difference.ReplyDelete
Teresa, what you are able to do, that is so at odds with the demands of our fiber optic world, is retain your child like sense of wonder. Awe of the beauty of life is in every syllable you write. The price for that is vulnerability and all that implies. The reward is to see beyond the seen.ReplyDelete
Dear Cletis, Your generosity towards me and what I write here leaves me (almost) speechless. I feel a kinship with you within the words you have written here. Thank you, good man, for your kindness. You are there, in My Book of Gratitude.ReplyDelete
Aloha from Hawaii! I found your blog via DJan's and I like your writing. Your flowering trees are magnificent! Surely, they give you peace and happiness. As for rhubarb, I can't say I have ever tasted it. The pie looks delicious, though! Cheers!ReplyDelete
gigi, How nice of you to visit, and to find me through DJan makes it extra special! The pie wasn't pretty, but it sure was tasty. Thanks!ReplyDelete
Teresa, read any of Thicht Nhat Hahn's books on mmindfulness...:-)ReplyDelete
Paul, I am familiar with his work. Thank you.ReplyDelete
I'm sorry you were in a blue funk but happy that it all ended well. Nothing like half of a rhubarb pie and a good old heart-to-heart talk with a friend to set a person straight, again.ReplyDelete
The photos are stunning...Lonewolf is such a beautiful property! That's a pretty pup!
Cheryl, I used your rhubarb pie recipe on your Crafty Lady blog. :) It doesn't look as pretty as yours, but the recipe was so easy, too easy. :)ReplyDelete
I do have a beautiful place here. I try to be grateful for it every day.