March 1, 2018
Here it is March already and I guess the month is coming in like a
lion, at least in the mountains. We are
currently getting rain and then the high winds are supposed to come. Mike was supposed to deliver a load of hay to
Floyd County again today, but it doesn’t appear that the weather is going to
cooperate. I’m fine either way. I can find plenty to do whether I am inside
or outside and I have never minded the rain.
Besides, rainy days give more opportunity for me to write without guilt
that I should be doing something else!
We were busy, of course, at the beginning of the week while we were in
Staunton. We went back a little early on
Sunday, leaving right after church. We
went directly to Verona Antiques to our booth there to try to do some
work. I can only manage the booth at the
Factory Antique Mall because Verona Antiques is closed on Tuesday and Wednesday
and I have the kids for 14 hours on Monday.
Mike doesn’t hesitate to admit that he lacks the skills to really set up
the booth and always comes away frustrated that he can’t get everything in or
that it doesn’t present itself the way he would like for it to. Part of the problem there is that we only
rented half a booth. It was all that was
available at the time and it is a long and narrow space with dividers between
us and the lady with whom we split the booth.
Mike kept asking me to go home early on a Sunday and see what I could do,
so we just made it happen. A new vendor,
a man from Strasburg, was very helpful in motivating Mike to do things that he
would have complained greatly about doing if I had been the one to suggest
it. I was most grateful for the man’s
help. As Mike stood on a ladder hanging
items per the gentleman’s suggestions, I laughed and told him if that had been
me asking him to do that he would have told me to go fly a kite or complained
bitterly the whole time. He grinned and
said, “You’re probably right.” We got a
good bit accomplished, but ran out of time as they closed at five and we had to
be home to watch the girls so that Alissa could go to the funeral of her best
friend’s grandma. Mike went back Monday
afternoon for a few hours while I stayed home to watch the girls. The same gentleman, who has a great eye, took
Mike under his wing and helped him finish arranging the booth. He also bought a good bit of the new items
that Mike brought in to sell for his own booth and he asked Mike if he would be
a picker for him. That was pretty
exciting because that is the part that Mike really enjoys is the hunt and the
thrill of the auction. It sounds
promising but we shall see how it pans out.
The dealers who are in the shop every day are not able to go out and find
the items as readily as we are. We focus
on the buying end and finding the deals.
These folks focus on the selling end of the business, the artistic
display and the repurposing of items to create new products. If we can work with them, they can teach us a
lot and we can be a benefit to them in finding vintage items for less.
The little girls were a handful, as usual Monday. Poor Analia.
I feel so badly for her. I know
that it is a part of life and she is learning to share, learning responsibility,
and learning to cope with things that are out of her comfort zone and these
things are important and part of growth.
We can’t create a perfect world for our children and grandchildren. She went from having me often to herself on
the days I didn’t have the twins. I took
care of her full time for the first three years of her life and she went
everywhere with me. She was the perfect
little partner and rarely gave me any trouble at all. The only issues we ever had were really just
from the terrible stomach aches that she endured (and still endures although
they are more manageable now with probiotic and fiber supplements and a diet
full of probiotics, fruits and vegetables).
Then Aurora came along and rocked Analia’s world. Rory is high energy, advanced, demanding,
vocal, and with a penchant for finding multiple ways to get hurt in one
day. She requires constant supervision
to keep from harming herself in her adventures.
She began walking at seven months of age and now dances in circles,
climbs, runs, eats anything she can fit into her mouth whether it is edible or
not, and never stops unless she is asleep.
Analia has had to learn to share everything and I can’t even seem to
make it balanced for her because of how difficult it is to keep Rory from unintentionally
harming herself on one of her many adventures and discoveries. The other issue is that Rory is so very loud
and Analia has always had sensitivities to loud noises. I wonder if it doesn’t stem from her eyesight
being so poor. When she was small, loud
noises would make her scream in fear.
Even as she got older, the sound of a cow mooing unexpectedly or the
milking machine being turned on, a vacuum cleaner, a hair dryer, even a loud
sneeze would just terrify her. She has
done much better in the last year and I think it is because she sees better now
that she has her glasses but the loud and persistent noise really bothers her
and Rory is loud, all the time. Analia
reacts with a lot of frustration and we have a lot of opportunities to talk about
using our words to discuss how we are feeling, walking away to give ourselves
and the other person space, sharing with others even when we don’t feel like
it, etc. Sometimes I get weary but then
I stop to think about how young Analia is and how different her world is from a
year ago when everything was tailored to her needs and it makes me have more
empathy and patience for the situation.
Even taking care of Little People can bring moments of growth for all of
us.
I was pretty pleased with myself.
After not getting a lot accomplished last week, I started off this week
with a bang, first getting some things done at Verona Antiques and then getting
some shelves down and small items divided up from the kitchen in Staunton. Alissa and Gab would like to work on the
kitchen this summer, putting in new counter tops and painting the cabinets and
the walls. I love Alissa’s taste in
decorating. She has not really been able
to decorate previously having lived in rentals and then being in the midst of
two pregnancies and raising to little girls while trying to get her bachelors
and master’s degrees. Throughout my
life, I have always enjoyed clean lines and easy to care for interior designs
but I think a lot of that was out of necessity.
I never had the money to decorate and wasn’t a person who could take
money away from the budget to buy frivolous things for the house when my
children needed to be fed and the bills needed to be paid. After Mike and I married, we had such
different ideas. Mike doesn’t like the
idea of change and the house was a mix of different patterns and styles from
various decades. Thrown into that mix
was a house full of furniture that came from a beach house after Mike and his ex-wife
divorced and he needed furniture. I
would talk to Mike about painting or taking down the wall paper borders from
the 80’s and he would panic and give me a dozen reasons why it wasn’t possible
at all to do it. Finally, I just started
tearing into things when he was gone for 16 hours a day farming. He would come home and find me standing on a
chair ripping down wall paper borders and the look on his face would be sheer
horror. I would have to listen to him
complain and tell me all the reasons why it was a bad idea, but I would just
bite my tongue (mostly) and keep on working.
When I would paint, he would come in horrified that I had taped
everything up and had the floors covered and insist that a good painter didn’t
have to do that. Channeling my inner Mark Twain, I would tell him to show me
how to do it the right way and he would take over and not want me to touch it
again. I would always pick up the brush
the next day and get a lot done while he was gone for another 16-hour day. Slowly we got a few things done in the
house. I got all the rooms painted and
we got the carpet ripped up and hardwood floors put down in the main area and
laminate in the other rooms (except for one bedroom that still has ugly pink
carpet which Analia loves). But, after
13 years, the walls need repainted, the kitchen needs upgrading, the bathrooms
need upgrading (as they haven’t been touched since the house was built 30 years
ago) and the kids have a lot they can do to make it their home and their
style. I never owned a home, always
living in rentals and moving frequently when married to my ex-husband. Our house in Staunton, while home to me and a
place I love, was never entirely mine, nor was I ever able to entirely put my
own personal touch on it. The octagonal
design, while unique and a structure that many of our neighbors’ envy, just
didn’t lend itself to my personal love of traditional style cottage home. No matter how many changes I made, I could
never make the octagonal home feel like “me”.
I was never ungrateful and never dreamed of living anywhere else until
we started looking seriously at buying a home in Southwest Virginia. I had been
hustled and moved from one place to another all over the United States and
lived in so many rentals before I met Mike that any type of stable home was
heaven to me and our home in Staunton was large, comfortable, unique and had
what I call “million-dollar views”.
Never was I ungrateful for what I had been given and never did I dream
of having anything different but when I began to slowly (and with resistance at
first) give myself over to accepting that we would not farm the home place
(where Mike’s mom lives) for the rest of our lives and that Mike needed a
change since his dad had died, things began to fall into place that allowed
Mike and I to both be able to experience more than we had ever imagined. Our
home in Laurel Fork is absolutely the perfect place for Mike and I to come
together with our preferred styles of decorating and it is the first time in my
life that I am able to pull together everything I like for a great vintage,
cottage/farmhouse feel. Now that I am able to decorate freely to my taste, I
find that the clean lines are a thing of the past, probably something I
practiced out of necessity. I am looking
forward to seeing what Alissa and Gab do with the house in Staunton. Their style adds a lot of vibrant color in
accessories and I think will lend itself much better to the Octagonal design of
the house. The house there was much too
big for just Mike and I and it is good to see it full with the girls able to
have plenty of room to play. Anyway, I
felt great about getting the wooden display shelves down, all the small items
packed to either take to Laurel Fork or sell, and removing the small, vintage
table that Alissa wanted out of the kitchen area. The kitchen and dining room look much more
open, clean, and ready for them to start working on in the summer. I have a few knick-knacks left in the living
room to box up, a coat closet to clean out, and a linen closet that I used as a
pantry closet for canned goods and overflow from the kitchen that I need to box
up. Everything in the main portion of
the house will then be emptied of our things.
(I don’t even want to think about the huge storage area downstairs in
the unfinished part of the basement, the utility room, and the
outbuildings. Those things will probably
take years to sort through as they require more of Mike’s involvement and he
has difficulty getting rid of anything.)
My productiveness continued into Tuesday. I was up early and was able to connect
through messenger with our son in Thailand and talk to him for a while. It is always so good to be able to chat with
him. He and his fiancé live a life there
that is so different from anything with which we are familiar. The country is made up of hierarchies which
means with Marisa being Thai and of royal blood, there are certain activities
they are not “allowed” to do for themselves.
The mindset is something we can’t understand and while it feels so wrong
(and is) for one group of people to serve another, the “lower class” acquire
their self-worth and importance from the jobs they do. Evidently, if Mikey washes the dishes then it
is a huge insult to those hired to do that job.
Mikey is always so positive about his time there but I know it has been
a huge adjustment for him. He still doesn’t
speak the language. He and Marisa do so
much good with their time. They run a
large resort for Marisa’s parents in the mountains and I know them well enough
to know that the locals who work for them are compensated well for the work
they do. Mikey and Marisa spend a lot of
their time, energy and the family money to help those less fortunate,
especially the children who live in poverty in the mountains. Mikey sends me photos of the wild, but
beautiful country and the crazy trips to the cities where driving means you
take your life into your own hands and pray that your angels are watching over
you. Mikey does almost all the driving
for the family. I am just so proud of
him, his heart full of compassion, his approach to life, his kindness to people
and his ability to adapt to such a different lifestyle than that with which he
is familiar. I’m also thankful for the
closeness I feel to him. We can go long
periods of time without talking and not see each other for a year at a time but
it is easy for my heart to connect with his.
He’s a really special guy and I am so blessed to be his step mom.
Mid-morning, I went to Factory Antique Mall
where I was able to completely finish up the inventory in the front and back
booths. When we started with selling
antiques, I wasn’t going to help, but that soon changed, a fact that makes me
smile. I wasn’t interested in adding
another layer to my already full plate, but we have let some other things go,
downsized in some areas, and the antiques have proven to be a shared hobby that
has brought Mike and I closer. I think
we partner well in this venture and complement each other. It is a lot of work but we have a lot of fun
with it. Because I was being stubborn
and refused to comply easily in the beginning, the items put into the malls
early on were not on an inventory list.
We found as time went on that the management of the mall could be pretty
poor at times and a lot of our things just ended up missing. We began wondering how many things just
disappeared. We also found that the
staff often did not write down the description of items sold in a way that we
could decipher what it was when the daily sales report came through. And, with getting bigger over time, we also
needed a better way to keep the records from a business perspective. So, I began assigning everything an inventory
number, but I needed to go back and assign numbers to several hundred items in
the booths that had not been previously tagged. (Another difference in Mike and
my personality is that he is completely unorganized, jumps from one thing to
another, and generally doesn’t have much of a plan. I have to at least attempt some sort of plan
and organization and I do best when I start a job and finish it rather than
jumping around.) Working on an inventory gave me an opportunity to rework
everything, mark down some things that had been sitting for a while, and was an
eye opener as to how many things get “misplaced” or stolen. I’m a pretty visual person and can usually
tell immediately if something is not where I left it. Things get rearranged as people shop and that
is actually encouraging because it means people are looking. However, I am
quick to see if something is missing. I
now have my inventory as well as weekly photos I take of the booth to help me
decipher what is gone. This week I
walked in and noticed a trunk looked very empty and a small table looked
bare. The trunk had previously held a
large pillow I had made out of a flour sack and it is now missing, I looked and
never found it, so more than likely, it will be another loss for us. The table had held a large, enamel bowl and
with a little searching, I was able to find and retrieve it from another booth
where I know it was unintentionally misplaced.
The end of the month sneaked up on me and I realized I needed to get
some checks sent off to my grandma. I
sat in the parking lot at the post office and wrote out a month’s worth of
checks for her “tithe” money and for her caregiver and had to send them
priority because I had waited so late to do it.
Grandma would give all her money to the church and to other charities
and to friends and strangers if she could and for the most part, I think she
has, but that is a story for another time and place. (Before we realized her struggles with
managing her money, I think she gave away a huge portion of the savings my
grandpa had left her) My grandpa always managed all the money and always made
sure she had what she wanted. She didn’t
have to do any of that until my grandpa passed away. She laughs and tells how she had a job for a
short while as a bookkeeper when she was still a teenager and how they fired
her because she couldn’t learn to keep the books correctly. My grandma’s heart is huge and her love for
people is amazing. I doubt anyone could
be more giving than my grandmother and there is no entity she would rather give
to than the church. Now that I am
managing her money, I make sure to send her checks so she can put a little bit
in the collection plate each Sunday. It
would break her heart to not be able to do that, plus, I am pretty sure she
would think it was a sin not to have a check in every week. I tried to encourage her to stop sending
money to charitable organizations other than the church and to stop buying and
sending gifts to everyone one she knows for multiple occasions. Her heart is huge and she just isn’t able to
understand that money is limited because we need to pay for someone to help
care for her on a daily basis.
After the trip to the post office, I picked up a big bag of dog food
for our three dogs. I miss having my
dogs with me all the time. I miss
Spencer especially. He is my number one
farm hand, always by my side. The kids
and grandkids want me to leave the dogs in Staunton, especially Spencer, as he
loves the children so much. When we
transition to Laurel Fork permanently, I would love to have him here, but I
think he will be happiest staying there, so we will see what happens. He will still have animals there to watch and
he has the kids who love him so much.
Meanwhile, it feels lonely not having a dog always at my heels.
I also got a lot of cleaning done in the house in Staunton on this
trip. It is just so hard to keep things
clean there with all of us in and out so much and with the little girls always
making messes but I was happy with the amount of work I got done towards
cleaning. I have pretty much admitted
defeat on the windows and glass doors of which there are many in the Octagonal
house. Little girls finger prints and
mouths are always on the inside and the dogs nose prints are always on the
outside. They are cute though, always
checking each other out, the dogs looking at the girls and the girls looking at
the dogs. The minute the door is opened,
girls and dogs mix and everyone is smiling.
Mike filled the round bale feeders and brought square bales up for the
mini horses and two pet goats. I spent
some time outside in addition to feeding just to enjoy looking at and being
with my jersey girls. I have missed them
so much when we are away.
Tuesday evening was five hours of babysitting while Alissa was at
class. It is always an adventure when my
grandma calls at the designated time in the evenings and I am watching the
girls. Analia always talks to her and it
is funny to hear their conversation.
Rory decided to “talk” this time and just chattered away and laughed and
laughed. It was really cute. I think my grandma really enjoyed it. I was exhausted Tuesday night. Being exhausted after babysitting is become
the norm for me. I slept well and then
awoke at my usual time to get a few things done on the computer before anyone
else wakes up. I usually don’t write in
my journal anymore until I get to Laurel Fork, but I do take time to answer
correspondence, pay bills, make orders, or do other things I need to do when I
wake up before the rest of the house. I
was always a night owl until the last ten years or so when I learned to really
enjoy the quiet time first thing in the morning. It is now my favorite time of the day. It is really the only time I am completely
free from distractions and whether I am out milking my cows in solitude or in a
quiet spot with my computer writing, those moments when most of the rest of the
world are sleeping seem tailor made for someone such as myself.
Wednesday morning, again I was able to really feel accomplished as I
continued to clean, pack, and load the car for our trip back to Laurel
Fork. We had talked about staying an
extra day but when it came down to it, couldn’t wait to get back home to Laurel
Fork. Alissa will be on spring break
next week both at her job at Blue Ridge Community College and with her classes
at James Madison University. That means
Mike and I have opportunity to spend less time traveling back and forth between
Staunton and Laurel Fork in the coming week and get some other things
done.
We stopped in Dublin on the way to Laurel Fork and I had a Greek Salad
with grilled Salmon. I made a call home
while we were driving. I like to use my
time wisely when we are traveling and I needed to touch base with the parents
in Missouri and check on them. I am
thankful that they are in good health for the most part, active, and able to
live life the way they see fit. My
immediate family and I are all very independent and while we all love each
other dearly, we do our own things and don’t spend a lot of time communicating
or visiting one another. We have always
been like that. My dad rarely asked for
help, didn’t have a lot of friends but the ones he had were good people and
loyal to him, minded his own business and expected everyone else to mind
theirs, spent a lot of quiet time alone, cared deeply, worked hard, was
sensitive to the comments and judgments of others, and gave his life to
sacrifice to make sure that his family was taken care of even when the chips
were down. I think I ended up being a
lot like him in many ways. Since I lost
my mom when I was seven, I really don’t know how much like her I am. Folks who knew her say I remind them a lot of
her with my love of animals, my non-judgmental attitude toward people, my
desire to find the positive and to be an encourager, my gestures and even the
way slant my letters backwards when I write in cursive. However, I think I am probably more like my
daddy than my momma because she was outgoing and loved being around people and
was comfortable with such. I am sure, as
the only child of a Baptist preacher, being around others just came naturally
to her and she probably welcomed the interactions.
Arriving in Laurel Fork just before dark, we unloaded the car. I had packed it full of mostly Christmas
decorations that had been stored in Staunton.
We carried them upstairs and put them in the back of one of the deep
closets that goes under the eaves of the 1930’s Cape Cod style house. I am thankful for the deep closets and
adequate storage space in this house. It
doesn’t begin to compare with all the space we have in Staunton, but I am glad
that we can downsize and yet have room to store the things that are most
important to us.
March 2, 2018
Definitely, March has come in like a Lion! Wow!
We had wind gusts of up to 60 miles an hour last night and the high
winds are continuing into today. As we
sat in the living room last night the wind coming down the hollow sounded like
a freight train. I slept well in spite
of the wind, awoke after daylight to make my coffee and heard the hum of the
whole house generator. We checked
Appalachian Power online and found that the electricity in our area had been
out since a little after 3 am with no estimated time for power restoration. I am incredibly thankful this morning for the
generator that is keeping us supplied with electricity this morning.
I worked around the house yesterday morning and then fixed our big meal
for the day earlier than usual. After
eating our home raised New York Strip steaks, homegrown veggies and Angel
biscuits cooked in my cast iron skillet, we left the house around 3 pm to pick
up a load of hay at the neighbor’s behind us.
They got 16 large round bales of cattle hay on the trailer and we made
the trip over to Floyd County again. A
man who buys hay from us in August County (3 hours north) has cattle at his
sister’s farm in Floyd County as well.
He buys hay from our neighbor in Carroll County and pays us to ship it
for him to Floyd County. By the time we
get the hay loaded, make the trip, and return home, it is a 3.5 hour trip for
us if we don’t tarry. The highlight of
the trip for me was passing a fairly large farm with a sheep and seeing four
Great Pyrenes at work. When we passed
the first time, two of the Pyres were lying down “resting” but you could see
they were still alert and watchful. On
out in the field were two more Pyres, in separate locations, sitting erect and
watching the sheep. When we passed them
going home, the sheep were coming in and the tiny babies were running alongside
their mommas. The Pyres were actively
protecting them with no humans anywhere to be seen. I use to watch my Great Pyre work the fence
lines and I grew to love her so much.
She was an amazing dog, a rescue, and the reason I fell in love with the
breed. Never have I had the opportunity
to personally see a group of Pyres working such a large operation together and
it was just fascinating to me.
March 3, 2018
The winds and storms that hit the entire East Coast this weekend didn’t
forget our little piece of the Appalachians.
We are still without power and the Appalachian Power Company estimates
that it will get restored in our area on Sunday afternoon. I have been so very thankful for the whole,
house generator. We were able to
function as normal yesterday. I did laundry,
used the electric oven, played the radio, showered and couldn’t even tell we
were running off a generator other than the loud, consistent hum outside the
kitchen window where the generator sits.
The noise of the generator is fairly loud, not overwhelming from inside,
but outside quite noisy. Because the
generator does use up the propane and we try to conserve as much as possible,
we shut the generator down last night when we went to bed. We kept a fire in the fireplace in our
bedroom and that kept our room warm until we didn’t get up to put more wood on
it and the fire burned down to just coals.
The temps dropped down in the twenties with wind chills in the teens and
the cold began to permeate the house. I
got up just before daylight and coaxed the fire back to life, climbed back into
bed under the covers and grabbed my computer to catch up on journaling. Mike just started the generator and soon we
will have warm water, propane heat radiating through the house, and again be
able to proceed with our day normally even though the area is without
power.
We really have not sustained any damage here that we know of. I have not walked the fence lines behind the
house, but honestly, the fences are so bad back there on the “back forty” that
it doesn’t matter at this point. We have
to patch, repair and redo most of the fence anyway before we can move the
Jerseys. I heard terrible noises last
night even before we turned off the generator.
The sound of the wind gusting and roaring down the “holler” sounded like
a freight train. I was sure that the
roof was coming off our house and that huge trees must be crashing all around
us. At moments, the sounds of the wind
were unbelievable but they were not sustained at that ferocity, thank
goodness. When Mike turned the generator
off and everything went dark, the generator stopped buzzing, the old vintage
refrigerator stopped making it’s consistent gurgling and squeaking, and all the
sounds of modern conveniences were silent and there was nothing between us and
the wind but the walls in this 1930’s Cape Cod type farmhouse it made me feel
both vulnerable and thankful. The moon
shone brightly and we could make out shapes and shadows all around us as we lay
in the dark. The moonbeams literally
sparkled in the stream in the meadow outside our bedroom window. Had the wind not sounded so fierce, it would
have felt like we had been transported to some magical land of fairies, with
sparkling streams, lit by the moon.
In spite of the wind yesterday, Mike was determined to get something
done. He couldn’t work in the barn
without running a portable generator to operate his power tools. It was too windy to work on the fence or burn
brush. He finally decided it was a good
day to hall off another load of scrap metal.
I’m not so sure it was a good day for it, but he did get it together and
we took a load to the scrap yard which is about 45 minutes away. We had metal roofing off the chicken house,
an old oil furnace, old scraps and pieces of equipment left from generations
who previously owned the farm as well as a bunch of appliances that no longer
work that had been abandoned because no one wanted to haul them up out of the
basement. It is a tight turn at the top
of the stairs and I honestly don’t know how Mike got the appliances all out by
himself, but he did. I kept thinking he
would ask me to help him if he needed help but there’s not much I can do to
help on the narrow stairs. He was using
a hand cart. He did manage to really
mess up his back. I am hoping it is just
pulled muscles and not something more serious.
We did all right with the scrap metal and made a couple hundred
dollars. I’m most excited about just
getting the place cleaned up. When we
were almost home from the scrap yard we passed a neighbor’s hay field and saw a
few of the resident wild turkeys. They
seemed really put out by the weather and were running against the wind across
the field.
I had put a roast in the oven and it was ready when we got home from
the scrap yard, and I thought Mike was going to come in early because of the
weather but I was wrong. Instead he
started bringing buckets of dirt down with the loader and putting it around the
house to build up around the house and slope the ground so the rain water runs
off. I took the wheel barrow and brought
in a couple of loads of wood to keep the fire going. We had cut the heat way back and were trying
to heat with the wood and fireplace as much as possible since we were running
the generator and using fuel in that capacity.
March 4, 2018
The electricity was out most of the day yesterday and was scheduled to
be out until Sunday (although we were happy to see it come back on earlier than
expected). We had the generator off all
night on Friday night, turned it back on long enough to heat water for showers
so we could get ready for the day. We
decided to just turn the generator off for the day and head to our regular auction. We arrived home from that auction around 3 pm
and the power was still off. We had
learned of a new auction in Dobson, North Carolina that folks were really
building up to be a big deal so we went.
I wasn’t impressed. There was
nothing “wrong” with the auction but I think I had already had my quota of
interactions for the day and by the time we walked into the building and I saw
the crowd of people there, many whom we know superficially from other auctions,
sales, and antique related encounters, my anxiety level started to
escalate. We started walking around
looking at the merchandise and I felt like everyone was pressing in on me in
the large warehouse they were using. The
building was used as a feed store and then it had antiques and vintage items
piled everywhere. There were a couple
hundred chairs in the middle of the floor and almost everyone was full with people
standing around the edges. It didn’t
take me long to find a chair in the back and try to hide as well as I could in
a crowd. The auctioneer was fast, which
is fine, but it takes a little while to get in rhythm with a new
auctioneer. I listened intently as he
“cried” the auction, as my Shenandoah Valley born and raised husband says. (Mike’s dad learned to auctioneer and was
known to “cry” a few auctions in his day.
Mike loves an auction, no matter what is being sold.) After a bit, I was able to keep up with the
bids but the items went for a lot more than what I was interested in
paying. Mike never raised his hand
either. A friend we are just getting to
know came in a bit late and sat down beside us and he and Mike talked the whole
time. We ended up leaving early and I
was more than ready. By the time we got
home, I needed peace and quiet. The good news is that when we got back to the
house, our power was back on. I had
received a notification message from Appalachian Power stating it was back on
shortly after we left the house to go to North Carolina. We had the switch turned off on the
generator, so it was not running, but we also had the breaker off to the main
power line, so we had to figure out how to get that back on but then we were in
business. This round of being without
electricity and using the generator was a hands-on crash course for us to learn
how to turn the generator off under a load, turn it back on manually, and then switch
everything back over to auto and reconnect to the main power source. Next time maybe we will remember and not have
to read the book so much. It was
actually very easy, but Mike kept asking me how to do it and I kept doubting
myself and re reading the book to make sure we were doing it correctly. I did absolutely nothing yesterday other
than go to auctions which for an extrovert means a really awesome day out with
friends, like the one’s Mike knew already and the ones he just met two minutes
ago. What that meant for an introvert
like myself is that making conversation with people I don’t know makes me
tired. By the time I got home, I was more exhausted than if I had run a
marathon and promptly fell asleep on the couch while Mike was talking to me in
a spite of the fact the temperature was only 55 degrees in the house because we
had turned the generator off all night and then after we showered turned it off
again for the day to conserve fuel.
March 5, 2018
I was so edgy, nervous, anxious and irritable when I woke up yesterday
morning. I have experiences several days
like this in the last week with anxiety so intense that it made me feel like I
was having a heart attack. I kind of
laughed it off but did mention it to Mike, that I if anything happened to me
assume it was my heart. I was awake long
before Mike, which is our normal routine.
In Laurel Fork that means uninterrupted quiet time for me to write while
I drink my coffee because the minute Mike wakes up he starts talking and then I
have difficulty concentrating. I have to
laugh at so many differences between. I
would rather wake up two hours before everyone else so I can have two hours
without speaking. Mike starts talking
almost the minute he gets up. When Mike
did get up, I told him “I’m warning you now, I am anxious and irritable and if
I am short tempered or cry don’t take it personally.” He said, “It sounds like to me you are making
an excuse.” I laughed and said, “Yes, I
am making an excuse.” He asked me if I
needed to talk about something and I told him that I really didn’t know why I
was struggling. In spite of the dubious
beginning, the day actually picked up for me from there. I tried to get past the anxious feelings and
church was a distraction. I’m very
comfortable there. There is only a small
group that attends and with a lot of them old enough to be either my parents or
grandparents, they just make over Mike and I and are so happy that we are
there. It just feels comfortable to me,
which is more than I can say for most churches anymore. We had a potluck after the service and
enjoyed visiting and eating good food.
When we got home, I had dirty dishes to wash but instead went
outside. I know myself well enough to
realize that time spent outside is better therapy than anything for my
soul. I grabbed my camera, something I
don’t always do when I walk. I was happy
that I did because I wasn’t more than a few steps past the barn when I looked
ahead and saw movement. It was the flock
of turkeys on the edge of some brush.
From where I was I knew I could either go completely a different
direction and not startle them or try to move to their right to get them to
move to the left into open pasture in hopes of getting a good picture of
them. I had the benefit of being
downwind and while they are typically spooked easily, my plan to move slowly
and quietly downwind from them worked as they headed into the pasture instead
of seeking cover in the trees around the springs. They moved at a steady pace and I was able to
get some photo although the sun was bright in my face and keeping me from
actually being able to see what I was doing.
After I managed a few shots I followed them. They had a head start and of course traversed
the sloping, mountainous pasture land with ease while I huffed as I walked up
the steepest part of our pasture. I
could see them ahead of me until the topped the hill and I assumed that they
knew I was there and had kept going and sought shelter in the woods. Instead, when I reached a certain point where
the land table tops right before becoming wooded, I found myself surrounded by
turkeys. They startled me as much as I
startled them, so convinced was I that they would be hidden safely in the
woods. There was a rush of movement as
these big, wild birds quickly took flight.
I grabbed my camera from around my neck and tried to focus but all I
could do was start shooting photos and hoping something turned out. I could see the birds in front of me flying
across the meadow and into the wooded area across the road as I heard the
remainder of the flock behind me flapping their big wings and gaining altitude
quickly to fly over my head. It was
truly an inspiration moment when one feels privileged to witness untamed beauty
first hand. How could I feel stressed or
anxious at that moment? How could I feel
anything but perfect peace and gratitude for being able to absorb such beauty
and witness nature so intimately? After
a slow-paced walk, I started working on the yard. A winter’s worth of fallen sticks and leaves
as well as some larger branches blown off by the high winds littered the yard
and it won’t be long until we will have to begin mowing. I raked and cleaned for several hours
discovering that my Hostas were beginning to peek up from the dirt, and the
already tall daffodils were close to blooming, even though they are in a shaded
area of the yard. Signs of hope…..signs
of life….signs that the harshness of winter will soon be past were everywhere,
and the honest work of clearing off the yard forced me to give myself over and
relax my mind as I pulled the rake over the steep incline, clearing one little
section at a time. My pile of leaves and
sticks got higher and higher and Mike asked me what I was going to do with
them. I laughed and said, “You are going
to bring me the skid loader and I am going to fill the bucket up with all the
debris so you can haul it off somewhere.”
He kind of rolled his eyes in that “Tammy has it all figured out her
way” look but I could tell my plan made sense to him. We filled the large bucket and stomped it
down, filled it more and stomped it again, and just when I thought we couldn’t
possibly get more in there, Mike tapped it down again and we had bucket packed
full and a good start on cleaning the yard.
While I worked on raking leaves and cleaning up sticks and limbs, Mike
had been moving dirt and filling in low spots around the house to try to slope
the yard away from the back wall of the basement. He did a great job. I am not sure how many buckets of dirt he
ended up bringing in and then patiently shoveling and raking and getting it
sloped just right. It looked so pretty,
all that red, mountain dirt raked to perfection. Then he seeded it with grass and covered it
with straw. If we can get a good stand
of grass there, that section around the house will not only be beneficial to
keeping water away from the basement, but it will also look much better now
that the holes and low places are filled.
We were tired but content when we came in the house and happy for a
Sunday that we didn’t have to be on the road.
Mike asked me to start a fire and I had that blazing and supper warmed
up by the time he got in the house and showered. After eating, I made my nightly call to
grandma, took a long soaking bath, and crawled into bed.