A whole new week is at hand. I know I know, some, if not most, people bemoan a Monday. Not only does it signal the demise of a weekend, it offers a new beginning, another chance to balance life – and that’s nothing to wheeze at.
Saturday at our local farmers market was great, a day slightly cool but warm enough to wear a newly knit scarf without a jacket. The market has moved from ten years on a crowded parking lot onto the street with a wide promenade giving vendors and customers more room to mingle and enjoy the wide array of people encountered and a dazzling amount of locally grown produce, meat, dairy foods and even wine. This week’s band was a local Celtic favorite Cairde na Gael. This band is as good at a farmers market as they are in a smokey little pub. A jig, a reel, and the sweet clear voice of Kelly Lamb – what a combination. Our customers will attest to the fact that I find it hard to stand still while Cairde na Gael is ripping a reel.
The debut of our Oklahoma Fiber Partnership Yarn was met with enthusiasm and I was quite pleased to see the people who appreciated knowing the dyer and the fiber farmer were all local folks. Thankfully I have more fiber at the mill already, more llama yarn was brought home from Country Garden Farm yesterday and I’ll be picking up fiber from a new source near Welling, OK this week. (more on that to come)
Sunday was, of course, Mother’s Day. I’m looking forward to next Sunday when Hillarey and I are taking the afternoon/evening to enjoy some time together. My daughter is amazing and getting to spend time with her is always Mother’s Day whether Hallmark declares it a holiday or not. We’re talking maybe sushi or just sitting out in front of the coffee shop and talking. Regardless it will be time enjoyed and appreciated.
Chris and I met with my siblings, their families, my parents, and my brothers in-laws at a restaurant in the town where my folks live. It’s a big day for dining out. I love my mom, really I do. But I’ve got to say I don’t expect to repeat this type of event again. For an asthmatic – it’s sheer misery. I thought I was prepared by using my daily inhaler upon waking, and carrying my rescue inhaler. The cloud of excessive perfume was more than two inhalers can control though. I made it through lunch with only one escape outside for fresh air – but my chest was on fire, my breath came in gasps and gulps, and my voice sounded like a porn star (or what I assume they’d sound like if you called one up – which I haven’t).
I love living on our farm. The fresh air, the peace and quiet, occasionally catching the sound of the bells from the monastery nearby – all good. Yesterday on our way into town we were dive bombed by a turkey vulture who missed our windshield by about twenty inches. What a freaking ugly creature, but an exhilarating experience nonetheless. Today we drove the Jeep to be serviced at a place between here and Tahlequah and on our way back a wild turkey crossed the road in front of us, with a quirky awkward gate, her long neck stretched out and bobbing ahead of her body.
The trick to life, for me anyway, is finding the right mix. Finding a bit of the city that speaks to what I believe in, and enough open space and wilderness that satisfies the deep need for solitude that I crave. I assume this “mix” is different for everyone, for people are as unique in their needs as they are in their appearance.
I’m curious – how do you find the right mix that keeps your life balanced? What is that mix? What do you find yourself craving when you feel out of balance – geographically or socially?