John left moments ago to attend men's meeting at church, and my supper is a frozen dinner that says it requires 45 minutes to cook. So I've time to spare and I've had much on my mind, again. So here I am.
I refuse this time of year to go into any craft store. I don't want to look at autumn and Christmas displays...I don't, but I know if I want something very specific for either season I need to be out looking right now because if I wait until I feel it's an appropriate time, everything will be picked over hard and nothing worth having will remain.
I've been hearing peeps and seeing peeks from various ones about autumn, but no, I'm not ready just yet. That said, John sat down with his phone this afternoon and switched his color theme to black and orange. "It's Halloween!" he declared. He's already started going around singing Christmas songs, too.
Nope. I've gone to look for Westbrook's Summer playlists and I've put on seasonally appropriate music. There's only about five or six weeks of summer remaining. I know full well come September, I will think it's time to go look for autumn decor once Labor Day is behind us and that's soon enough.
John made an appointment this morning with a dermatologist. He's had a spot on his face for a bit over a year and a half. He's doctored it with this and with that and we finally settled on a regime that had it practically healed. He shaved a bit too closely and it got sore all over again, almost cleared, and he scratched it in the night. It's been a source of frustration and yes, of fear for him.
Why fear? His mom died from melanoma that went undiagnosed for too long (she did seek a doctor's attention). By the time someone finally tested her it had metastasized to her lungs and brain. She dieed in her mid-50's.
But John has been worrying and fretting and fussing along with this thing on his face for far too long. He gets very upset if I don't just come into prayer agreement with him that it will be healed ( I have!). In his mind, my saying, "Perhaps you should just make an appointment with a dermatologist," is akin to utter blasphemy. I stopped arguing the point way back, but I can't deny I've been a bit concerned.
When we had lunch out with Andy and Debra, Andy apparently suggested John should have it seen about. Andy's had multiples of skin cancers (he's fair skinned and was fair haired and has worked for years in the outdoors). That was almost a month ago and almost daily John has fretted and worried and doctored and insisted on changing up his treatments.
It all came to a head yesterday when the preacher gave his second sermon on Joshua 1:9 which is the verse base for this month's series on fear and courage. John came home convicted of having given in to fear. When he said this morning at 8am that he guessed he'd call, I held my breath. I prayed that the doctor's office would be open and they were. And they had had a cancellation for tomorrow morning so he's going right in. Still fearful, still worried but we will at least know.
I think the fear of the unknown is probably the most wretched thing ever, especially when it paralyzes us, keeps us from taking a step forward, or moving out of a bad job, situation, mental state, or getting a medical diagnosis, etc.
Now I shall also confess that I have very little patience with fear. I dislike letting fear trap me into doing nothing, which is often the very worst thing we can possibly do. That was part of what I was trying to convey about aging last week. I don't want to be afraid of what lies ahead.
I lived in fear once upon a time. It got very tiresome to say the least. And when I started doing things despite the fear, I was better. Some of the best things that have come to me in the last forty years came from facing some of those most fearful moments and doing it anyway. Nine times out of ten I found that my fears never came true. Other things I didn't fear came along and hurt me that's true, but not the things I'd been lying awake quaking every night over!
All that said, brave and bold as I sound, let us not forget I am the same one who waited three years to use the electric pressure canner because I felt a sliver of fear about using it. So by no means think I am holding myself up as something I am not. I'm just as foolish and silly as anyone else!
I've been working at getting Rufus' fur sorted out. He has very fine silky hair and a very fine undercoat and he gets terribly matted. He's refused to let me touch him for nearly a year and sometime last week he sat down in front of me and patiently let me start clipping. We followed that routine three days in a row and when he'd had enough, I let him go on about his business. I went out Saturday morning prepared to do as we'd been doing. He wasn't having any of it. He got up and walked off the porch and out into the middle of the yard and just looked at me. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't come to me. He'd move if I moved. I said "Fine. We'll get back to it when you're ready."
Well he wasn't ready on Sunday nor this morning. I went out into the yard to do some yard work and he decided to go sit in the woods. I told John he was acted hurt that I hadn't paid him any attention and at the same time kept his distance pretty hard. I told him just what I did on Saturday morning. "When you're ready we'll get back to it."
This evening as I was saying goodbye to John on the back porch, Rufus came strolling up and sat down on my foot. I looked at him and asked, "Oh, are you ready now?" Well I don't know if he was or if it was the thunder I heard rumbling a little bit later, but I got a good bit more of his matted fur off him. I guess his anxiety over thunder is greater than his dislike of the shears.
Getting this matted mess off him is going to take a long time I'm afraid and there are parts I'm not at all sure about, like his ears and certain areas of his bottom and underbelly and about his toes. But if I can get the bulk of it off him, perhaps I can get someone to finish the grooming (a professional) for me. For all that he considers himself very much a rambling country dog he is far too small and too much of the lapdog genetic pool to truly be a country dog. But go tell him that. He'll show you otherwise.
This morning, as I said earlier, I'd gone out into the yard to work. For me, getting outdoors and working in the cool of the day (relatively speaking, it was very humid) is the most pleasant thing. I finished cleaning up the flower bed at the end of the house. I noted that some weeds have made an appearance in the places I'd worked on earlier this summer. It's not out of hand but I'll definitely need to get out there and give it another going over.
I looked over the plants and talked to them. The old fashioned lantana that came from Grandmother's yard has gotten tall and leafed out but not a single bloom upon it this year and I've no clue why not. All in all this year has been a difficult year for gardening. And I'm not the only one saying so. Sam did well enough with zucchini and blueberries but his green beans quit producing as soon as they got started. His tomatoes were a disappointment. He did get a few tomatoes but then they quit. My own are as full of blooms as ever but they are not producing a tomato. Just blooms.
Anyway, I enjoyed my morning puttering about the yard. I was out there far longer than I'd meant to be. I decided to make good on one of my promises to myself and I put a few seeds in the planters. Fingers crossed that autumn crops will do what none of the summer ones did.
After being outdoors I had hardly any energy left to do home things. It wasn't until afternoon that I got busy with my #everybitcounts challenge. I did get a few things. I sat down last night and made out a list of things I could do with what I have at home.
Yes, some of the things I plan to do are using things on hand but they will be in a different form, one that should be more useful and more convenient to use. I'm really enjoying this challenge this year and I'm glad I'm finding ways to add to my home's pantry and freezer even if I don't have a garden.
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