Domestic Goddess Still a Goal

I had reason today to be going through some older blog posts. This one from May of 2009 still makes me chuckle. Unfortunately, it's an ironic chuckle indicating how little has changed, instead of one celebrating I'm now a true domestic goddess. 

Although I am happy to report my home is sans ants, and there are no longer dishes piled on the dining room table, but clean clothes. I'm not sure that's in improvement, but at least the dishes haven't been there for three years. That's a bonus.

My Title of Domestic Goddess is in Serious Jeopardy

My title of "Domestic Goddess" is in serious jeopardy.

Truth be told, I'm not sure anyone has ever referred to me as a domestic goddess, but I've always hoped someone would. Frankly, I would have been a wonderful 1950s housewife in so many ways.

I've always wanted to be the perfect combination of Alexandra Stoddard, Martha Stewart, and Bree Hodges. The only problem  is that one of them is fictional, one is well-staffed and other is married to a man who made it unnecessary for her to make a living when she got started, and I have none of those things working in my favor.

Despite these obstacles, I have persistent fantasies of welcoming people into my spotlessly clean, well-appointed, completely renovated Victorian home where the fresh citrus scent of my homemade cleaning products lingers in the air. (Of course I'm wearing pearls in this vignette.)

I'll serve freshly baked scones with berries from the garden and my homemade lemon curd. The linen napkins will be pressed crisply, smelling of sunshine and just a hint of the vanilla rinse I put them through. People will ooh and ah, and I will bask in all this appreciation for my domestic prowess. After a lovely gathering during which we'll gather around the piano in the music room for a couple of songs, I will retire to the sitting room off my boudoir with a nice cup of tea. I'll lie down and rest with a good book or do some delicate handwork.

In reality, of course, I'm working all of these hours. And, if you drop by you're likely to find a paint can lying about because my renovation now stretches into years, and nothing in my house is spotless. Not even close. "Sanitary" is the most I hope for. While I love handwork, I find it more expedient to buy pieces at sales than to spend the time making it myself. And my piano is so out of tune I wouldn't even let a child bang on it for fear of ruining their budding musical talent.

Today is an example of the startling difference between my real life and my fantasy life.

I've been working all weekend to eradicate the ants who insist on taking up residence in my kitchen cabinets. No matter what poisons I use, and how much silicone caulk I smear over tiny cracks here and there, they persist. So, the dining room table is covered with the dishes that have already been through the dishwasher, and both sinks and the counters are full of things waiting to be washed. Alas, it is not the scene of someone who has been testing which tomato variety makes the best marinara sauce.

Between running the dishwasher, I've been cleaning in my home office. My home office is such a disaster area that I close the door when company is coming, and yet it's where I spend most of my time. It's a wonder my fingers have not been crushed by an avalanche of things careening onto the keyboard. And the top of the desk is one of the better areas.

Today I sat in the floor and started sorting through the piles. While doing so I found a fuzzy piece of Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal. I don't even recall when I last ate that for a snack, which means this has been there for some undetermined, but lengthy, amount of time. Although one might think you could gauge timing by the amount of dust, much like rings on a tree, I declined. Instead I decided to use the archeology method and take note of what was near it. It was nestled between a green and white speckled breath mint, the remains of a roll of Wintergreen Lifesavers, and a French Franc that is no longer legal tender. None of that was helpful.

I don't think domestic goddess types have grungy cereal underfoot. Cereal they don't even know about. And I cannot blame children or pets, as I have neither. The responsible party would be me. The shame of it all. This is not how practitioners of the domestic arts conduct themselves.

Of course, I have a full time job that pays for the house which is the stage for my domestic goddess-ness. Unfortunately, it takes the time I could spend whipping up chocolate mousse for dessert to top off the gourmet dinner I would throw together in between planting the herbs, polishing the silver, and planning my next dinner party complete with engraved invitations and matching place cards. (I also own no silver - mainly because it requires polishing - which would take time I don't have.)

Don't get me wrong, I can hold my own with the average, every day, domestic goddess wannabe. I can write a thank you note with the best of them, and my handwriting is more than passable. My homemade lemonade is made with freshly squeezed lemons, a simple syrup and some fresh lavender from the garden. I own a considerable amount of china and can set a lovely table for almost any occasion, complete with fresh flowers in a glass flower frog.

But, I believe on the domestic goddess tally sheet that cereal of unknown origins lying about on the floor undiscovered for some extended period of time, negates a nice thank you note. If only I had a scone to fortify me. But who can cook while waging war with ants?


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State Fair Season

The Kansas State Fair has wrapped up for another year. There's something I love about the rituals we have of riding the train, visiting certain booths, and making the rounds.

Time to move on to other rituals for other seasons.

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Sea Lions

The Kansas State Fair had a sea lion act this year. This was just too cute to not share. What more needs be said?

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Good Fortune and Friends

These are two of my favorite people on the planet. That's Greg on the left and Mark on the right. The three of us have known each other for decades. Decades. Hard to believe, but true.

Like most relationships, we've had some ups and downs. Greg and I were a couple for 12 years and, although not seamlessly, were able to move back to being friends with a relatively small amount of effort. Indeed, we are the closest of friends now. I cannot imagine my life without him in it. He is family.

And so is Mark. The three of us found ourselves in a town where we didn't have connections with others, that wasn't exactly opening its figurative arms to us. But, blissfully, we formed our own connections. We became family. Not the sort of family like we were all fortunate enough to grow up with, but family nonetheless.

All these years later, after more rides on the train at the Kansas State Fairgrounds than I can count, we are still family. These are people I know I can depend on.

If you find yourself with a couple of those people in your world at age 50, I think you should consider yourself fortunate. And I do.

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Carbon Paper Hunt

I've been on the hunt for some carbon paper - preferably the more vintage kind. I put the word out on Facebook, and Miss Joy responded almost immediately that she might have some. A few days later, this treasure arrived. I'm still so in love with it I can barely contain myself.







Thank you, Miss Joy!

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Visioning Retreat

A few weeks ago I went on a visioning retreat with some friends. This is the fourth time I've arranged a retreat like this, and I'm ready to branch out now and offer visioning retreats for others.

Over the last few years I've experimented enough to figure out what works best. It's a really amazing thing to do. I've watched so much manifest in my own life as a result of the clarity I gained through this process. This year one of the participants starting having things happen in less than 24 hours. Really incredible.

Fortunately, some of my friends who went this year said it was okay to share some photos of the process. The bits of finished collages you see are mine.

I'm eager to see where this goes next!











I love this photo of Andrea. Her body language says, "There, now, it's just right!"






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Boston's Tom Scholz - Guitar Lessons in Zen

I love this photo of Tom Scholz, the remaining original member of the band, Boston. The lights and scene say, "rock star." His demeanor says, "born musician."



We saw Boston at the Kansas State Fair Saturday night, and were fortunate enough to be seated nearly in front of Scholz. From the first moments on stage, it was obvious he was in a state of zen with the guitar. The lights, the fog, the trappings of being a rock star didn't faze him. He was just focused on playing. He played keyboard a little bit, but mostly guitar.



It's obvious he is doing what he was meant to do. And, he has found others to play the necessary roles expected from rock stars, so he can do what he wants to do, and play the music.



A little research told me Scholz first started writing music in 1969 when he was attending MIT. That shirt isn't just decoration, he graduated with a Master's Degree and worked in the corporate world to finance building a recording studio in his basement. There he created demo tapes that eventually led to the formation of the band we know as Boston.



The concert included the hair flipping and guitar playing poses you expect from a rock band, but not from Scholz. He played the guitar and the keyboard, and made music. He left the showmanship to the rest of the band, but I couldn't help notice that others were focused on him, too.



I tried to capture some of those other moments, too, but it was hard to take my eyes off Scholz for very long.

Being in the presence of someone who is living their true calling is always amazing, whether they're a musician or something far less dramatic. They have a passion for their craft that goes beyond what you see.



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Divinity Won Second Place in State Fair

Thanks to Greg Holmes, I know I won second place in the miscellaneous candy division at the Kansas State Fair. He went out today and took this photo. I was at the doctor for a check up this morning and Greg told me to check his pix on Facebook. By the time I got home, I spaced it off.

Sometime this afternoon it occurred to me to send Greg a note asking him to see if I won anything if he happened to be in the building. He wrote back, "Check my photos." Duh!

By the time I saw it, others had already commented on it. It was sweet of him to check on it for me.

It's really cool to participate in it. I would have missed it if I hadn't seen notes on Facebook that reminded me. The other winners look very tasty, too.

Next year I'll make sure I have pecans in the house - and I'll try not to be making it three hours before it has to be delivered - and give it another go.

Thanks, Greg, for delivering the news!
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We Never Know

A third grader in Wichita died a few days ago after a bullet went through the wall of her home, and killed her while she slept. It is a reminder of how we never know what will happen.

Kimbra probably went to sleep that night thinking about the next day, school, her friends, and all the things you might expect from a third grader. It was just a typical day for her, her family, her teachers and schoolmates.

But, then, in an instant, life changed. Her life was extinguished by a bullet from a gun held by a 28 year old man. His life will never be the same. Their families will never be the same. Everyone who knew that little girl, and everyone who knows this man, are forever changed. You can never be the same after something like that. Who you were going to be is changed. This is now part of who you are, even if you're somewhat removed from it. It's always a story you tell, part of your history.

This isn't a post about gun control or anger management, although someone could certainly use this incident to illustrate a concern with regard to either. But I just want to encourage you to say what you need to say, do what you want to do, and remember you, or someone you love, could be gone tonight.

Let Kimbra's young life be a reminder to use the present wisely. It may be all you have.

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Divinity in State Fair

This afternoon I took a batch of divinity out to enter into the Kansas State Fair. I almost missed it.

First I nearly missed the deadline for registering, saying you wanted to enter. I saw someone mention it on Facebook.

Then, I was thinking I'd drop it off Thursday night since the fair starts Friday. But, last night while I was still in Joplin, I saw a friend mention getting her fair entry ready. This prompted me to start searching for info on the details.

I had none.

So, I emailed.

This morning, in the midst of finishing a grant and working on other projects, I realized it had to be there today. By 7 p.m. On a day I was frantically busy.

But, I got it done. I only had time to make one batch, and I didn't have any pecans to go in it and no time to go get some, so it will have to do. The texture was nice.

Hopefully the judges will appreciate the classics.



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Marketing Advice for Authors and Others

"The math of finding your audience isn't linear, and even if you read to only two people, one of them might host a radio show, or be an influential blogger, or fall in love with your book and buy copies for friends." 
     --- Alethea Black, author of "I Knew You'd Be Lovely," published by Broadway Books; talking about promoting the book in the July/August 2012 issue of "Poets & Writers" Magazine


This is a fundamental truth about marketing, that escapes many people who have considerable experience in the field. Yes, numbers are great, but they don't tell the entire story.

If you can get 200 people in a room who will all go out and talk about your book (or whatever), that's wonderful. But the likelihood is that's not going to happen. Just filling a room with 200 people who have no interest in your product is useless - a total waste of your time. The same can be said for Twitter followers or any other marketing strategy you can come up with.

The morals in this story are:
1. Give your all to anyone who makes an effort to see you. If they're the only person in the audience, they still went to the trouble to be there and they are thrilled to meet you.
2. Target your audience as much as possible to find those people who are likely to spread the word about your book.
3. Consider other ways to find your audience - "non-linear" is a great way to think about - and it makes it a wide open prospect.
4. Treat everyone with respect. That blogger who showed up and wants to interview you may well have more people who are devoted and pay attention to everything he does than your local radio station does.
5. Be thankful for the experience. We learn through everything.

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As a side note, I absolutely love "Poets & Writers" magazine. It's completely different than "Writer's Digest." I can tell Poets & Writers is a subscription I will keep up for a long time to come. Click on the photo to see ordering information.






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The Power of Words

A month or so ago I was getting ready to go out for Third Thursday, our local art walk, and snapped this photo quickly to post as a promo on Facebook. It was something along the lines of, "I'm breaking out the fun glasses for Third Thursday. See you downtown." I took it with my phone, sitting in my home office, very quickly, just to have a graphic for the event I wasn't yet at.

To me, it's a poor photograph - you can see my computer screen reflected in the lenses, I'm looking up at an odd angle to see where to hit the phone screen to take the photo since I was using it in a way I ordinarily don't, and the lighting is very odd. I posted it with Instagram (you can see the border around it here) and didn't give it a second thought.

When I posted it, people started commenting how much they liked it. To other people it captured something of "me" that I don't necessarily see. This caused me to look at the photo in a different way, and I see the appeal - at least to some degree. I'm thankful to have friends who help me look at things with new eyes, which happen to be blue and not green, as one might think from this picture.

Within a day or two it was my profile photo on Facebook, and it has continued to grow on me. I wouldn't have thought twice about it if it weren't for other people's comments.

It gives me reason to think about how much what we say, and what we don't say, to people matters. Another's words may lead to something fun like a new profile photo, or they may touch people on a deeper level than we could ever understand. We often don't understand our own power to impact people. And we have the chance every day to do good and to do evil. I pray we err on the side of good.

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Flowers of Silence

Hanging by my front door is a framed postcard I bought in France. Roughly translated, it says, "The words unspoken are the flowers of silence." I have it there to remind me to watch my words as I go out into the world. The old adage about the tongue not being tamed certainly applies to me, although I am much better than I used to be.

These days, as communication happens in so many ways other than out in the world, I may have to make myself another reminder. Perhaps I need one in my office as well. Taming my fingers is sometimes as much of a struggle as taming my tongue - sometimes more.

I know others experience the same thing at times. Sometimes I'm dealing the snarkiness, and sometimes I'm the recipient of it. My initial reaction when I'm on the receiving end is to respond. But, I'm trying to just hold my tongue/fingers and let it go.

One of my rules for living used to be, "Let it go. Let it be. Let it lie." This seems an apropos time to reinstate that rule.

Now, if only I can do that.

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First Generation of Women in My Family Born with Right to Vote

I'm glad some of my foremothers and forefathers were more forward thinking than Miss Florence Hoagland of 55 Monroe Street. I don't know in what town Miss Hoagland resided. I took this at the Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

I am the first generation of women in my family born with the right to vote. Yes, the first. No, I'm not that ancient.

I came along late in the lives of Jack and Mary Lea Terrell. My mother was born the year women got the right to vote - 1919, in case your high school civics class fails you. Do the math on that, and you'll realize that women haven't been able to vote for even 100 years yet.

My mother, my grandmothers, and all the women who came before us had no say in the political process when they came into this world. I understand how special it is that I do, and I take it seriously, Miss Hoagland's objections notwithstanding.

We are all products of our times. Her time and mine are very different. She may have believed her place was to subject to her husband. And that may have worked very well for her, and I don't begrudge that path to her or anyone else. But the part of that equation that often gets left out is that the husband is supposed to treat his wife with respect.

I live in a time when I have no husband, but men in politics expect women to take responsibility for preventing pregnancy from "legitimate rape." Perhaps Miss Hoagland lived in a time when such things were unknown. I do not. Because I do not, I have no choice but to participate in the process, such as it is. I cannot ignore. I will not subject to men who show such incredible disrespect for all women.

Not participating in the political process is subjecting to that viewpoint. I will not. Instead, I will vote, at every available opportunity.

Yes, politics may be a messed up world, but it's the one we've got to work with at the moment. So, the least I can do is make sure I'm participating in the system to the smallest degree, which is voting.

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Around the Corner

In everyone's life, there are times when you can't quite see around the corner. I'm at one of those places.

I am certain it's a bright future. I just can't see around the corner. Yet.

While I'm contemplating what's next, posts here may be a bit more scarce, brief, or wordy beyond belief. Even I don't know. That's part of what makes life wonderful, isn't it?

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David Vidal at Hastings Tonight

David Vidal is playing tonight at Hastings Hardback Cafe from 6-8 p.m. He is from California and has been playing a few gigs in the area the last week or so. I recorded this at Smith's Market last week. I've seen him multiple times when he has come for Third Thursday.

Please, do yourself a favor, and get out and see him.

The cafe has happy hour, with two for one drinks. Come out and support Hastings doing something cool, and enjoying some fabulous music.

Oh... and, of course... it's also free. Although, please, do buy something while there if at all possible. Let Hastings know you appreciate their efforts.

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Change and Learning

Recently some friends and I were pondering the question, "What absolutely delights you?" As I thought about this, two things came to mind immediately, and they are somewhat related. I am absolutely delighted by learning. I have a nearly insatiable curiosity - at least about things that interest me.

I could tell you a half dozen things about the Egyptian God Horus represented in this photo off the top of my head. Because I'm interested in that. Unfortunately, this does not extend to topics in which I do not have an inherent interest.

But I love to pick up those little "tidbits," as I call them, about various things. I'm horrible at trivial pursuit because I have little interest in movies and such. I'd be far more likely to do well with questions about ancient mathematicians than I would about movie actors. Honestly, sometimes when I drive by a theatre, I don't even recognize the names of the movies.

So, learning really delights me. The other thing that definitely delights me is meaningful/interesting conversation. I think it is somewhat related to learning because during such conversation I'm likely to learn something.

As I thought more about this, I began to wonder if people who like to learn also manage change better. It seems like a reasonable jump - people who are engaged in learning and are confident they can learn something new, would feel less overwhelmed by change. I'm not sure this is a solid principle, I'm still mulling it over.

And, of course, whatever conclusion I come to is just me prattling on and has no basis in scientific fact. It's just interesting to think about.

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Keeper of the Plains in Wichita

This weekend I had an opportunity to be at the Keeper of the Plains in Wichita. Every night they light these amazing fire pots.

I am embarrassed to admit that I have never been there before. Yes, I know, it's awful, but I hadn't. However, now that I've been once, I'll definitely be back.

It was a great experience, made all the better by walking around there with a friend and enjoying the fire pots, the cool rocks, (yes! rocks!) and the statue. This is a very important, sacred site, and I will stop and appreciate that much more on subsequent visits when there are fewer people around.

I am guessing I've probably been in the neighborhood of it when they would have been lighting the fire pots at least a hundred times - probably more - and have never been. Shame on me.

Forgive me Wichita. I didn't know it was that cool. But now I do. And I'll be back.

Don't make the same foolish mistake I made. Go!

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Connections

As you know if you've read here for any amount of time, I believe our connections to our fellow humans is one of the most precious things. I've spent the last 36 hours or so connecting with people I really enjoy being with, and it has been amazing.

It's curious how we make connection with other people. Maybe we have something in common - a belief system, a hobby, or just a favorite color. Whatever draws us to another person, if the connection is reinforced, it tends to grow.

I'm so thankful to have opportunities to make connections with interesting people, and so glad to have technology like Facebook to stay engaged even if we can't geographically be in the same place. We certainly live in interesting times.

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Rivers and Me

Tonight I was part of a panel talking about rivers. This is the presentation I delivered. I have posted bits and pieces of it here before, but thought some might enjoy reading the full copy.

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I am a person of rivers.

I grew up in Kentucky, a few miles from the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. If you've read Huck Finn, you know the nearby spot of Cairo, Illinois.

For those of us born to rivers, they are life itself. We speak of them reverently. We fear them. We cherish them. We are drawn to them by a force we cannot comprehend but have no choice but to obey. They flow through our souls. They define us.

We go to the river for strength, for guidance, for solace. We cannot possibly find our way in the world without returning to the river periodically. It beckons to us. We cannot deny its call. We learn at a young age that there's no point in even trying. Not that we want to anyway. The river knows when we are away from it too long. It summons us home.

We gather at the riverside for family celebrations, baptisms, and catharsis. We have rituals, public and private, that are carried out only on those banks.

We learn early the river is dangerous, with currents that take grown men under and let them resurface again only when the life is gone from them. Stories swirl of men who were good swimmers heading to the river one morning to fish, and never coming home again. But that's not reason enough to keep his brother from going the next day. The mystery draws us.

Hindus believe confluences are holy. Those of us born to rivers know that to be true. The river has power we cannot begin to understand. We humble ourselves at its shores.

We take our cares, our worries, our sins we confess to no one, and dump them into the river - metaphorically and literally. We surrender the jewelry from men we no longer love to the currents. We give the left-over love to the waves, to rid ourselves of it, so we can love another. We cleanse our minds by walking along the shoreline, letting the sound of water carry away errant thoughts and feelings. Like love, the river may be dangerous, but it's ever enticing as well.

The confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers is a place I return to when I've lost my way in the world. I have said prayers of thanksgiving and prayers of entreatment from the same spot. I have sought direction and consolation. I will do so as long as I walk on the Earth.

I can't give you the river. I can't even explain its attraction for those of us born to it. It is a constant - our true north. The river demands our attention. And we give it. We have no choice.


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Five Things Writers Do

Writing often seems mysterious, and a bit of a romantic notion - at least to people who haven't actually done it much. Some people are stuck at the romance part of the equation, and rarely venture into the actual reality part.

So, as a public service, I give you:
Five Things Writers Do

1. Writers write.
2. Writers revise.
3. Writers read.
4. Writers write more.
5. Writers revise more.

Bonus Tip: Writers professionally accept critique from editors. It doesn't mean you can never question it, but editors are doing their best to keep you from looking stupid. They are not your enemies. They are your friends. Treat them with respect.



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Life is Full

Life is a great big canvas, 

and you should throw 

all the paint on it you can. 

                          ~ Danny Kaye

Such good advice for life. The time is short. 

We never know how many days we have yet to live, so best to make the most of every one of them. Regardless of how many there are, it won't be enough. the world is so full of amazing places to go, sights to see, people to meet, and things to do. We won't have time to do it all. 

So, no point in wasting a moment. Might as well soak up all we can.

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Taking Action

An ounce of action
is worth a ton of theory.

                                   -- Friedrich Engels

This is something I keep reminding myself of on a regular basis. It's fine to mull over ideas, consider options, and think about what to do next. But, I must remember one of my rules for living; It's almost always wrong to do nothing. I must DO something beyond thinking if I want something to happen. It's such a simple lesson, but so easily lost.

I just recently completed a visioning process, and I do need some time to contemplate all of that. But it must be leading to putting new things into action.

Life is a thrill ride!

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Power to the Pen from Pilot

I'm participating in Pilot's Power To The Pen challenge. You can learn more about it by clicking here.  Essentially, the challenge is to write a blog entry with pen. (This was written with a Pilot G2 - purple.)

You know I love the handwritten word, which is why I have Words by Hand! If you feel the urge to be included in that project, see info here. 

Just to be clear - no one sent me any free pens, or paid me anything to do this. I just did it 'cause it sounded cool!
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Weird Moments

Today I was researching the Wildlife and Wetlands Byway in Kansas. I googled - as would be my wont. I found a newsletter. I glanced over it. And I found myself quoted.

http://www.kansaswetlandsandwildlifescenicbyway.com/pdfs/factsheets/EllinwoodFactSheet.pdf

It was from a piece I'd written on the blog, and it's lovely they found it and are using it. I just didn't know. And guess I never would have known if I hadn't gone looking for information for something else.

They are doing what I suggest clients do - use good things people say about you to your advantage. They just stopped before completing the circle and letting me know so I could promote them.

Life has some weird moments sometimes...

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Old Manual Typewriter

This is my latest purchase - Royal Typewriter, probably made in the 1930s. I asked on Facebook if anyone had one and a friend did. Her husband brought it into town, I forked over a $20, transaction completed.

Someone on Twitter asked if I was going "old school." In reality, I want it for an art project.

But, these things never go quite as smoothly as one might hope.

I just drove straight to Gary's Office Machines, which I had called yesterday to ask about ribbons. He nicely came out and got it out of the car (it's heavy!), took it in, and determined there were no spools in there. Apparently they can wind a new ribbon onto the old spools, (think cassette tapes and pencils) but we need the spools. So, I'm on the hunt...

I have a couple of places to check out that I didn't have time to connect with yet. Until then, it's just riding around in my car seat. I see no point in carrying it inside until I've located the necessary items.

It will work. Eventually. Just not today.

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Visioning Retreat Collage

I spent the weekend in retreat with friends, working on a visioning collage. I've done this three times previously, and this was the most intense one overall. These are a couple of snippets from mine, the theme of which was, "My Ideal Life."

I'm a firm believer in this process. It's quite amazing how it works. I'm eager to see what develops as a result in the next few months.



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Posting Here and There

You may have noticed I'm not posting every day on the blog lately. There are two things at work.

1. My computer is so slow it's cumbersome to do. I need to replace it and just haven't yet. Actually getting a post up is a process that takes longer than it should.

2. I upload photos and life details to Facebook almost every day, and often don't duplicate it here. So, while this was my "chronicle of life" place, that now happens more on Facebook. If you're not connected with me there, please just send me a request and we can connect there.

Once I get a new computer, I'm sure I'll get back into a more regular routine. Waiting on a computer makes me a little crazy, so I don't do it any more than necessary!


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Touch of Grace

It's often the little things that have such impact on how we perceive something. When I arrived at a B and B recently and opened the fridge to store some food I had brought, I was greeted with this. It was completely unexpected, and completely charming.

It was a little something extra the owner left for me. A delightful surprise on a scorching hot day. The tag told me it was fresh and had been prepared with me in mind.

These little things, that took a bit of effort, but even more thought, are what stay with us. It's like the old adage about it being the thought that counts when it comes to gifts.

As always when I stay here, I was charmed by this little touch of grace. We all need more of them in our lives.

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Bales of Hay

I remember when hay started being baled in these large round bundles. It seemed so odd at the time. We were used to the rectangular bales that high school boys would toss up into the truck and eventually up into the hay loft. Some made it look effortless, some labored more, but all sweated in the heat.

These round bales can be moved around with machinery, which eliminates the need for the physical labor. One man on a tractor can do what a crew used to do. They don't require a hayloft, but can sit like sentinels in the open field, waiting to be used. I suppose if there's some rot, it's a minor amount and worth the loss. Plastic coverings protect them in some places, sheds in others.

A friend on Facebook tells me these are going for $175 each in Oklahoma. I don't know if that's the going rate elsewhere or not. I do know it wouldn't take very long for that to add up if you have very much livestock.

Every business has its trials, but farming seems to have more than its fair share.

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