When donkeys attempt to murder chickens…

…remember that tossing extra hay into the trough is a good distraction.  I am not sure why the donkey named Taz decided that chicken stomping was his main goal when I walked up the hill to get the horse her mash and make sure everyone else was close to ready to tuck in.  Perhaps this whole daylight savings thing is messing with his mind as much as mine.  I think I alternate years when it comes to sleep zombie type suffering after the daylight shift.  Last year I remember being mostly fine…oh wait.  I was teaching in China.  They don’t do daylight savings over there.  No wonder I haven’t been quite so terribly impacted the past two years.  Jet lag, yes.  Daylight savings slump?  Nope!

I forget that this daylight savings slump has caught me this year.  For the past three days, I have woken up wondering why on earth I am so tired.  I have no patience.  I should be spring cleaning, but I never got around to fall organization, so to get any spring cleaning done, I have to go back and figure out what I should have had done in the fall.  Moving away for a few years means that when one moves back, there are messes to be dealt with that one did not make.  Since I am the only “one” I am talking about here, I think you get the idea.  Daylight savings time has not inspired me to get things more organized.

Actually, that is not true!  I have started to organize my earrings in one of the two small jewelry boxes I brought home with me.  I thought I would be staying longer in China, but I didn’t think I would ship much back, so I didn’t buy big things I expected to keep. My friend convinced me to ship things back in her shipment (which lead to a road trip to Canada to pick things up…but that is another story), so I could have gotten one of the beautiful jewelry chests that one can get made over in China.  But I didn’t decide to ship until too late.  In any case, my earrings, which have been sitting around in the shipping boxes since I got home last June, are now mostly unpacked.

So, one thing is more organized, but I still feel as if I understand Taz’s urge to stomp things.  I am now typing at a desk we found at an estate sale for 17.00.  The drawers are still empty because, now that the desk is finally in the room after the new floors were installed…WAIT!  That’s why I am so much more unorganized than I feel I should be.  We just remodeled the house and are still finishing up closets and base boards and such.  WHEW.  I mean I know I have been sluggish and grumpy, but I didn’t think I was that far behind on organizing my life…

I actually probably am that far behind.  Despite the remodeling excuse, I am just having trouble figuring out what kind of life I want going forward.  This whole transition with mom’s end of days, being out of work, using up savings, etc is pretty much a great time to refresh reality.  I just don’t like the idea that the refresh won’t include my mom.  Maybe that’s why I’m not pushing to move forward and get on with things.  The more I move forward, the closer I am to leaving mom behind.

Since I got all weepy when I typed that, it’s probably closer to the truth than I really want to think about.  On the plus side, mom’s still busy saving the world despite the fact that the new meds she started mean she can only stand up for about five minutes at a time.  Her auntie fell last Friday and has been home alone since getting back from the hospital. So, mom, being the sort who never just sits around and waits to be asked to help out, invited herself to auntie’s house to sit and chat.  Auntie is 95 years old, and has been on a walker since she broke her hip in a fall a year or so ago.  This fall didn’t leave anything broken, but she is in terrible pain.  Mom, the one who can’t stand up much, is there organizing things, keeping auntie company, and generally being herself.  The person who always jumps in to get things done.

I need to get something done.  The trouble is, to get anything done and really moving, I have to make choices I don’t want to make.  So, I organize earrings at midnight.  I type words here.  I am grateful for the sound of frogs on the farm as winter warms to spring.  I scatter wildflower seeds on a hill I wonder if I will get to see in bloom.  Will anything bloom?

Just writing

Amy of Hummingbird Hill View All →

I’m just someone trying to figure out how to juggle ten acres, work, a mama with stage four cancer, and a whole lot of grumpy. This blog started out as “Grumpy Gal’s Guide to Gratitude,” but since all I really keep typing about is the garden, I figured I might as well own it! So, thanks for joining me as I try and figure out how the heck to kick myself in the booty and get on with life.

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