Another one bites the dust

 

"Another one bites the dust", I thought as I heard my tea cup crash to the floor off the coffee table. It was the second full cup of liquid in less than an hour to be casually and very intentionally given more than a boost of gravity. Lochlan looked at me with glee and apprehension after doing the deed and then let out a distinct and absolutely infuriating cackle. There haven't been a lot of casualties, but I am perpetually on guard as we may be slowly eeking our way to a full-on chaos war if Lochlan chooses that path for this season. So... I pray a lot. We address each incident as it arises. We redirect (which really doesn't work for him). We keep our valuables (or at least fragile items) in storage. And, we adventure... a. lot. Days turn into weeks of adventuring. Adventuring-out-of-necessity could be worse! :-) 

Over the many weeks, we have been plugging away at our to-do list in between school and other responsibilities. We're trying to knock out one big project a week (installing a bridge over our Grand Canyon, replacing a fence line, etc.) and then a handful of smaller projects where we are able (installing a door handle, measuring to replace broken blinds, etc.). 

I'm pretty much absolutely worn out, but I know tomorrow is another day. And in each day, tomorrow is another day and it is a gift. When we are lost in the day, wandering in the darkness, loneliness or exasperation of a season, renewing our minds with that truth can give us hope and endurance. When I am weak or weary (or both) I know that I am not alone and there I find strength.

I can simply look up to SEE and I invariably find courage when I am afraid. 

My new cabin

My new cabin. :-) I know it's small, but this rustic piece of history holds part of my heart. It's the Forest Service cabin at the top of Kendrick peak, just below the lookout tower. When we were 6 years old, we took our first backpacking trip up Kendrick and stayed the night in that cabin. I have incredibly vivid memories of it. We wandered down to a nearby spring for water that evening and found a bear track; I was obsessively worried that the bear would haunt us with his presence, so kept asking Dad if the cabin door was securely shut. I remember when we awoke the next morning it was cold and we ate breakfast with a view. I've always loved the simplicity of this cabin, the refuge in a wild place. Last week when I hiked Kendrick with Bitty Boo and Paisley the McScottie, I revisited this place and it's memories. 

This week has been relentless. I wake up before the light is up each morning and work until after dark, and then when I look back upon the day, I have difficulty recalling what I actually did. My to-do list for the next few months is truly daunting with projects that must be tackled and completed, but it's the day-to-day happenings that keep me from ever sitting down. I keep looking for ways to simplify; I mean, we live in a one bedroom house so arguably that should simplify things for me. Cleaning never takes very long, though having a garden as part of the house adds to the overall dirt count. :-) I love the tiny space that we call home. I pray often that we may understand and really know how to live large in the small of it all. I do think that we are probably all more inclined to seek the adventure and open space of the outdoors, of the wild places that surround us, and like the Kendrick cabin, our house has become a refuge for us in all the ways. The downside to living in a small home is that clutter is an almost constant threat. We have one closet which harbors our winter jackets, a tiny pantry and no overhead cabinets. So, I'm almost constantly rearranging, attempting to find creative solutions for the items which are non-negotiable but in the way nevertheless. Forced creativity is probably healthy for our souls. 

I have one big project I must complete before the end of this week, so today I'm setting aside all but the most necessary daily happenings to focus my energy on that. However, there is still time to savor the wildflowers which we have growing abundantly around us, in spite of the very real hints that fall is about to be ushered in.