Remember my “Surprise me, God” motto? Well, here’s one: my gardenia plant is suddenly sporting a lovely white blossom–I have never been able to get it (or any other) gardenia to bloom before. But one morning, the flower was simply there, and it smells heavenly, too. I wonder how many other small surprises I’m missing? Time to pay closer attention. And to say thank you, of course.
The current issue of “Mary Jane’s Farm” magazine is out, and it’s one of my new favorites. Lots of wonderful ideas, all designed for the country girl, even if she actually lives in a city. I believe I’ll skip raising chickens, though my current heroine, Tara Kendall of “Big Sky River”, is doing just that. I grew up around chickens, but I’ve forgotten more than I ever knew, so I also picked up an issue of “Grit” magazine, which contains articles on the subject. I remember when “Grit” was a newspaper, sold weekly I think, door-to-door. My brother used to be a purveyor of “Grit”. Anyway, I am glad it’s still around. Mary Jane’s magazine has inspired me to plant a serious crop of peonies–you know how I love them. Gotta find out if the deer eat them, though. Deer we’ve got, in plentitude, and I know they love to munch on rose bushes. I’ve got plenty of room to plant them (the peonies, not the deer), here on the Triple L, but not if I have to put up miles of fencing.
I’ve been reading on my Nook a lot more lately–mostly memoirs. I’ve thought of writing one, but the fact is, I think my childhood was way too good. My parents didn’t drink, beat on us kids or each other, or suffer from colorful mental illnesses that caused them to hear voices, suddenly decide to live in tents and eat out of Dumpsters–not that Northport ever had anything as big-city as a Dumpster :)–or drop us off at the home of eccentric relatives for months at a time. (Which is not to say we didn’t have eccentric relatives. From some of our kin’s viewpoints, we probably WERE eccentric relatives.) I didn’t know how fortunate we really were until I grew up and found out how many people had had a very different experience. So there will be no expose-type memoirs from this quarter–I think readers would be bored to death by Sunday School and Vacation Bible School chronicles and a library that was only open on Tuesday afternoons.
I’m just saying.
So it’s off to work for me, after a quick but heartfelt thanks for all your supportive emails about my God-talk.
God, God, God. And God again.
See you tomorrow–unless, of course, you object to the mention of God.