Some days I’m better at collecting words and typing them from old journal entries than writing new words. Today is one of those days.
September 26, 2009 (a mish-mash of words and thoughts)
Choice. There’s always a choice.
Deb’s corn bags are wonderful. A couple minutes in the microwave and they radiate heat to achy parts like magic. Deb makes these bags using field corn – perhaps imported to Massachusetts from Iowa? :)
The moment is the safest place to be, breathing in and out.
I told a friend I LOVE fall because of the change. She laughed at me, “It’s the same every year!” Aha, so it’s safe change.
Occasionally, I call Dad in the middle of the day… and he always answers his cell phone. Last week I caught him while he was feeding the cows in the timber. I got to hear the cows!! Of course, they were vocal because he had stopped mid-chore to talk to me, so the conversation didn’t last long. He was getting butted left, right and center. It was good to hear the cows. Going to the farm with the boys is ritualistic. We do a hunt for all the tractors, see if they have an orange triangle on the back, sit on the tractors with their uncle. Dad takes us in his pickup truck for a drive to the timber to see the cows. In the spring this meant looking for tiny clumps of fresh clean fur – baby calves. Spring break 2010 in Iowa? I want to kiss the black dirt and the dusty gravel.
End of journal entry.