WILLING HANDS

For family and friends I make time. For myself and other strangersI have no time to offer. Yes, I often feel impoverished at the end of the day. Hours gone never to be seen again. Minutes wasted and fretted away... like a handful of ashes. There are many ways to warehouse living flesh. Is this one of them? I've been sick for several days with flu like symptoms. In addition to the chronic discomfort of arthritis it can wear away my cheerfulness and bring me to the slough of despond.

The juncos come before the sun is up and become small shadows whispering to the grass. If I listen will I hear secrets passing between earth and sky. When the birds lift up and quickly scatter do they carry some new wisdom on their tiny wings?

Cedar and I are collecting things for toad housing. Toads have been designated the garden guardians and shall have beautiful ceramic homes.

When I shake this bug I want to have a celebration for Cedar. She helps me with so many things. Someone has said, "Willing hands make light the work." It certainly is more pleasant to share a task with one who does not waste time complaining. There's a song I used to sing with Lottie and Gene C and some of the words are: "That there be no complaining in the streets, happy are the people." Does that mean the people are so happy they find nothing to complain about? Or does it mean the less one complains the more happy one becomes?

We got the Spider man kite up to the end of his string! The wind played a supportive role as did our loud encouragement. "Up, Spidey. Up!" "The wind is with you!" "Don't fall!" "Don't panic!" The kite terrorized Harry the mini-horse and baffled a high-flying hawk.