All day long, it’s been gray and chilly here on Riverneck.
The same is true on the farm.
The sun would peek out every now and again; yellow sunshine would lure me outside, either here or there, but clouds would cover the sun, and fickle wind would blow, and I’d be chased indoors again.
I had no real work I wanted to do outside other than feeding our animals.
Roscoe, with his expressive eyes and his inquisitive ears, would walk back and forth along the fence line, reminding me where he was and that he hadn’t had dinner.
There is a young Rhode Island Red rooster over in the chicken pen just learning how to crow, and every now and again, he’d let out a croak. He’s learning, and what he lacks in expertise, he makes up for in enthusiasm.
But there was little that had to be done except for taking buckets full of feed to them all and trading out old water for fresher water.
It was a good day, a quiet day.
My Boy is home, our Baby Girls are back in their own spaces, and it was a good day to begin this brand new year.
My mama used to tell me that whatever I did on the first day of the year, I’d do the rest of the year. This day, I did a bit of laundry, I read a bit, I rocked in my chair on the porch, and tonight, I’m cooking dinner for just my Boy and me.
Black-eyed peas and cornbread.
I think the sort of day I wouldn’t mind living over and over again.
Us, peace, a simple supper, a good beginning for a new year.
I ran across a quote today from Howard Thurman, a twentieth-century theologian, who said,
I will light Candles this Christmas: Candles of joy despite all the sadness, Candles of hope where despair keeps watch, Candles of courage for fears ever present, Candles of peace for tempest-tossed days, Candles of grace to ease heavy burdens, Candles of love to inspire all my living, Candles that will burn all year long.
This.
This is as close to a resolution as I get this new year. But what a beautiful thought!
Blessings,
Vickie