I spent all day yesterday being late. I hate to be late and it was just one comedy of errors after another and the more frustrated I got, the later I became. At one point I was stuck in traffic knowing I was going to be 45 minutes late for a big meeting and I just burst into tears...and then I realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation. Nothing at all.
So I turned up the radio and sang my heart out. Every great song written in my lifetime came on during that 45 minute traffic jam and while I was mortified to walk in way late to a mangers meeting, I was a bit calmer. Only a bit, but it was better than nuthin'.
That feeling off lateness...that out of control feeling, well, it's been the whole course of this week. I just can't seem to catch my breath...though tonight, Thursday, I got a lot accomplished. The laundry is pretty much done, supper was cooked (a simple pasta with broccoli and italian sausage, eaten on the run...Alex is at the firehouse tonight, Michael has church choir and Brian went to a band concert at his old school. What's that mean? I was home alone in a very quiet house...) and I've got our meals planned for the weekend.
I guess I'm not as unorganized as I thought.
I have been day dreaming about Europe lately. Not so much of the places that I'll go...but the places I'll be. I am just craving that lifestyle right now...the one where we work hard, take a siesta, work hard again and then all meet up for a long supper, with wine, eaten with all my favorite people. We've all heard that saying about those in other countries...that they work just as hard as we do; they just know when to quit.
It's so true.
But I think what is really happening is that I'm missing my garden and the people that I love most in the world gathering in it. It's not a big place...my garden, that is, but yet it is. It's just...special. And now, especially this week in my constant hurried state, I am in need of what happens in our little garden.
It grounds me. I am reminded that in spite of the fact that I live in the midst of more materialism than you could ever imagine, that that's not what my life is about. That it is about something money cannot buy.
I guess what I'm saying is that I'm tired. And I'm just a weirdo when I'm tired.
So with that, I'm going to curl up in bed with my newest Country Living (the only magazine I subscribe to anymore) and a big mug of tea. I need to count my blessings...and there are many. There's a reason for my unsettledness and I know what it is...and it's up to me to change it. My prayer life has been lacking this week because I've just not made it a priority.
It's a domino effect and by today, they'd all come crashing down one after the other. Time to stand them back up again. Time to say 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' and 'I need' and even an 'I want' or two. Time to ask for help. Time to just turn it all over to my Father.
He's just standing by waiting for me.
Is there anything more comforting?
The above mish mash of pictures are (mostly) from my phone this week:
1. My Great Grandfather. I'm fascinated by his life...and that of his family.
2. The toll road on the way home from working in the field.
3. IKEA. Breakfast there rocks.
4. Camelias, floating in bowls of water. So pretty!
5. Made for me but sold to others.
6. The company car gets a shower.
7. Hour 2 at the table. Love, love, love fruitcake!
Happy Friday, everyone!