A Good Life To Live

The rain on the tin roof is the only sound of the morning struggling to dawn through heavy, black clouds. When I checked the weather last night, I only saw brief interludes of light rain forcasted. I didn’t expect this monsoon that we’re getting. Luckily, the rain brings warmer temperatures which is always a relief from cold blustery days and nights of remembering to leave faucets dripping so the pipes don’t freeze and we’ll still have water in the morning. Too many past winter mornings were met with just air sputtering out of faucets and the ensuing panic of just how to source water for 5 horses and a herd of goats…not to mention the house and its inhabitants.

In the bad old days I met every challenge with an I-don’t-know-what-to-do-attitude. And also fear of failure, and a fear of disappointing, and enraging the person I shared my life with. I could usually incite disgust and hatred by simply waking up in the morning, but often, I could spare myself somewhat by hiding upstairs, or out in the woods until he had left for work. Round bales of hay made good hiding places, as did the pig pen, or the cluttered garage. I did not understand at the time what emotional abuse was. I am still not sure I understand how someone can create such trepidation in the heart of another without actually physically harming them. Although there were often threats of harm or death or violence.

In the old days, I might have carried that pain of rejection and failure around with me like a worn out badge of courage, but I had already spent the better portion of my adult life “getting over” something. I was ready to stop being a victim, and start being the creator of my own experience.

Last night while pulling hay off the round bale for the horses, my mind slipped back down that slope into a conversation with the person who used to share my life. Those old feelings of helplessness and futility, guilt and shame washed over me. It’s been a year and a half of living on the other side. Most days I don’t even go there. I’m not sure why I did last night. I know we can’t always have perfect thoughts. But the thing I was able to do. The thing I wish everyone could do, and everyone CAN do, is to recognize where my thought train was heading, and stop it. In its tracks. Years ago that wouldn’t have been an easy task. Now, it is much easier, and the most important thing is that I am AWARE of what my mind is trying to do to sabotage me, and I can halt it. Some people call this negative self-talk, the devil, or satan. Certainly, giving a name to it can help identify it, and rectify it. But, I think what often happens, in the negative, devil-talking-to-us-circle-to-no-where, is that we feel guilt for switching our minds to better feeling thoughts. I know I used to. Try it sometime. In the middle of beating yourself up for not being able to be the best you can be, stop, and start thinking about the flowers you want to plant in the spring, or that new puppy you’ve got your eye on, or how good a hot tub would feel right now, and notice how you feel a little guilt, like you are avoiding the problem. And you are. For good reason.

There is absolutely no reason to think negative thoughts. Ever. Even when the world is falling apart, it does no good to think of all the ways the world is falling apart. That will never make it stop falling apart, but only ensure that the falling apart will continue. Instead, we have to focus on the solution to stopping the world from falling apart. We have to focus on how the world will look when it stops falling apart. And it will stop falling apart. Immediately. Did your lover just leave you? Well, it does little good to think of your lover leaving you. He or she can only leave you once and then they are gone…unless they come back…once they’ve left, there is nothing to be gained by thinking of their absence, but everything to be gained about thinking how much better life will be now…now that there are no arguments, you can come and go as you please, there is no more jealousy, you can finally be free to be yourself…and then perhaps, when a new state of mind is achieved, one of fulfillment and contentment, another lover will appear who is also fulfilled and content, and will be a great match to your new vision of yourself.

I didn’t think I could ever live without my partner. I didn’t think I wanted to. And I don’t blame the abuse. Or him, or his childhood. Not most days anyway. But I also don’t blame myself anymore. I am no longer envious of others marriages and partnerships. I have my own life to live and I’m the only one who can live it. I stopped measuring myself against other people who were deemed by society to be more successful than me. I am who I am…a 50 year old woman pulling hay off of round bales for horses in the rain and making soap at midnight. I have a baby goat in a playpen in the living room, two dogs who sleep on my bed, and a grandson with leukemia who doesn’t let that dampen his outlandish imagination one bit. In terms of richness of life, I am richer than I’ve ever thought possible.

Some people might look at my rusty old farm house or my falling-down fences and outbuildings and feel pity for me. They might see all the work I have to do and run away as fast as they can. I used to feel overwhelmed and in despair, trying to do it all alone. Feeling lonely. But once I realized I had control of my thoughts, which control my emotions, which control the way I look at life….I realized, I had no reason to feel any negative feelings or emotions at all. Not one of them ever served me to the good. Not one…except to help me sort and sift and decide what I like and what I don’t like.

And I like my life. I like the rain. I like catching new born baby goats on clean feed sacks in a 4 by 6 goat shelter. I like squishy mud and big rain puddles. I like dirty horses, and tarping round bales. I like hauling wood, and building fires. I like making soap in a cluttered kitchen, and writing in the morning while the rain is beating down on the roof. I like fixing up this old house and making it into a warm home. I like coffee in the morning, and a hot shower at night. I like playing games with my grandson in front of the wood stove, and listening to my dog snore while cuddled up to me at night.

I am in charge my life on this five acre piece of dirt on this backwoods country road, 40 miles from Walmart. And that, my friends, makes me a very happy woman.

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Happy New Year 2017!

It’s the third day of the new year. I’ve spent these last few days fixing up an upstairs bedroom for my daughter. It feels great to finally get to the point of clearing out the whole interior of the room, which has been used for storage for the past 7 years. I have been working on it for a year and a half now, but with such a small house, and part of it being used for my soap business, there never seems to be a place to put extra stuff that is not in use, but also needs to be kept. We have thrown away, given away, sold, or donated about half the contents of the house. We are getting there, slowly.

New Years eve Ciara, my smallest goat, kidded 3 weeks early with a still-born doe kid. I am not sure what prompted her to go into an early labor and delivery, but she seems fine now. No milk yet though. I was hoping for milk because I’m having to buy it now to make soap since all the girls are dried up prior to kidding season, which should start in 3 weeks.

I did not make any New Years resolutions because I really could not think of anything I wanted to change…except everything, but it’s a gradual process, like fixing up that upstairs bedroom, and eventually the whole farmhouse. I’ve done six other rooms in the house so far. In the past I would only look at the work still to be done, and feel overwhelmed, and depressed, and then not do anything at all productive. Now, I look at the small parts of each project, and concentrate on those…a little each day to completion.

One thing I did decide to do for New Years, based on a challenge from a friend, was to change my diet to paleo/primal. I started on the last day of the old year and so far have stuck to it. Easily. I have managed to add a few unwanted pounds over the past year and would like to say goodbye to those. I tried WW, but I stayed constantly hungry and I hate tracking what I eat. With Primal eating, you don’t track, but you eliminate all grains, most sugars, and most processed foods. Replacing grains with healthy fats is something I’ve done before with good results, so I hope to see those results again. Adding in more veggies is always a challenge too.

This is day 4 and I feel great. The second day I did not feel very good but now it’s going much better. The best part is that I am not hardly even hungry. Yesterday I only ate one time. I was going to eat again but I wasn’t hungry, and didn’t feel like it. So I didn’t. I still need to find a paleo-friendly salad dressing (without canola oil or sugar) that I like. I could not find a single one at the grocery store when I looked.

Well, it’s raining here this morning, but the horses and goats still need to be fed. I have to carry hay through the rain to put it in their shelters…another project I am working on…hay under the same cover as the animals.

I wish you all a wonderful new year! If you have any delicious paleo dressing recipes, please do share!

My Etsy Soap Shop

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Interior

A Christmas Blessing

How has your Christmas been going so far?

I can honestly say that this is the very best Christmas season I have ever experienced. And not because of presents or gifts, but because of a change in my thought process. The best gift I have ever received was the gift of a good study habit. Nothing changes unless we make the effort. We do the work. We can sit still and let things just happen to us, or we can decide to see everything in a new light of creation…everything that went before has helped make me into the person I am today, and being able to be thankful for that, instead of feeling victimized, has been truly freeing and uplifting.

I have been able to be serene and calm enough to recognize God’s workings in my life. The hints, suggestions, happenings, etc.

I have always struggled with feelings of not feeling worthy of happiness and  success.

But just recently, someone from my past contacted me. From more than 30 years ago. Someone I really cared about. Someone who I had influenced way more than I would have ever thought possible. And they said that I was a nice person. That I was nice to everybody. Thirty years ago I was nice to every body? And that made we wonder where the unworthiness came from?

When I think about it, I think of how, over the years, I have often been so totally disconnected from my inner being. From the God inside of me. And of course, at those times, I did not realize that my disconnectedness was what was causing my fear, my depression, my anxiety. Trying to please people who despised their own selves and who could never love me. Who could never trust me. Who could never be happy with me.

But, this is not a sad post. It is a HAPPY post. I am praising God today because of the revelations. I will not live in the past, but choose instead to expand and live fully in every moment I have left on Earth. Sometimes our pasts can remind us that we were always worthy. That we will always be worthy of the richness of the life that we were gifted with.

I plan to go forward and make the most of the time I have left. How about you? Will you allow this day to be the day you move forward, instead of backwards? What is on your gratitude list this morning? If you haven’t made one yet, I suggest you do.

Peace be with you.

 

 

 

 

Calm

My Dog Smells Good

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“My dog smells good”. This statement is at the top of my list of positive affirmations, blessings, things I like, list for today. In fact, it is the only thing on the list at the moment. …But wait, let me add a few more.

My pony’s little whinny is so cute.

My house is warm.

I woke up without a headache.

I am in excellent health and physical condition.

I love my dining room curtains.

Positive affirmations are not new to me, but recently, I’ve taken them much more seriously. Normally I go to sleep thinking about problems and wake up thinking about the same problems, or even more problems.  Recently, however, I have been waking up in the mornings and writing lists of things I like, things that are going well, or what the solutions to problems might look like. For instance, instead of complaining to myself about the mud everywhere right now, I am concentrating on the solutions to the mud problem, and seeing the new mud-free version of things in my mind.

I was driving in the rain yesterday, in a run-down area of town, and I realized that in the past, I had tried to do everything from a place of lack. I identified as a victim of various things, spousal/partner abuse, poverty, low self-esteem, lack of friends, etc. I was listening to an audio book while driving, and when I heard that we are all born worthy, and have nothing to prove to anyone, my life kind of flashed before my eyes. I drove past piles of trash in yards, broken windows, and dilapilated houses. I saw people walking down the street, with pain on their faces. I could see that same sense of lack, that same sense of unworthiness that I had so often felt, an unworthiness that husbands/partners/bosses, were only too eager to agree to, and point out to me, and I wanted to stop the car, get out and shake them, and tell them how worthy they were, and that this sense of worthlessness that they were feeling was not what they were born for. I wanted to tell them how like attracts like, and the more negative things they kept their focus on, the more negative things would show up. I wanted to tell them to focus their energies on all that was good in their lives, and what they wanted their lives to look like, instead of what their lives actually looked like. I wanted to tell them that you cannot expand and attract more positive things into your life, when all of your energies are focused on your lack. It is hard to learn to think differently.

So very hard.

We are not trained from birth to focus our energies that way.

And so we often trudge through life feeling worse each day, as we grow older and our dreams remain unfulfilled.

Some days, when money is tight and there are other problems, its really hard to focus on our blessings and maintain a positive outlook.

On those days, the lists I have been making have totally changed what could have been a bad day, into a good day.

Yesterday I was getting ready for a Chrismtas party. Usually I make sure the dogs are outside when I get in the shower, but I was in a hurry and forgot to put them out. Tonya, my pit bull LOVES a bath, and  when she heard the water turn on she immediately ran into the bathroom and jumped in the tub. Her feet were muddy, and she needed a bath, but I didn’t really want a dog in the shower with me. She, however, had no intention of getting out, and the thought of a wet dog dripping mud all over the house wasn’t a good one, so I let her stay in the shower and I washed her too, even though it was a much less pleasant shower with a dog trying to catch all the water flowing out of the spout and the shower head. But, we both managed to get clean. Which is why she smells good today. Which is one of the things I’m loving about the day already. A nice clean dog.

Since the dog is clean, I’m washing my sheets and blankets too. And feeling really good about the day already.

I hope you are enjoying your day also, and if you are not, I recommend making lists of all of your blessings and all of the things you would like manifest into your life. Writing them down will give you more and more ideas on how to make them realities. I could go on, but the horses are calling me to get their breakfast. NOW!

So I better get to it!

Anita

 

Conundrum

Another Rainy Day

My dogs just ate my lunch. It was a huge bowl of piping hot, thick, chicken, lentil, and vegetable stew that I had fixed and then sat on the dinning room table to eat. I remembered that I needed to call a wood cutter to order a load of firewood, and turned my attention away from my food a moment too long. Both dogs are sound asleep now, having ate their own bowls of food as well as mine.

It is a cold, wet, grey day outside, but I’m enjoying it. Inside the house it is wood-stove warm, and there is a pan of chicken roasting in the oven. This morning I dressed warmly for chores, and with no wind to speak of, the softly-falling rain gave me inspiration…on where I need to create walkways to the house, which gutters need replacing or removing, and just where to put the loads of gravel in the horse paddocks.. I also realized I am just about out of firewood, hence the need to order a load.

I am no yard expert, but today seemed like a terrific day to over-seed grass in the mostly bare yard around the house. I know I might not appreciate the thicker grass come summer time, but having grass in the yard is preferable to bare dirt, so that’s what I am going for.

There are dozens of tiny birds resting in the trees right outside the front door in the rain. I wonder where they go at night? And do they get cold? I hope they don’t eat all the grass seed I just put down. But if they do, I still have seeds left in the bag, and I will seed again…and be happy to have grass AND birds, come spring of the year.

 

 

My Friend Tonya

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It’s Sunday morning. A cold Sunday morning. Tonya, the pitbull, loves cold mornings because I bring in wood for the fire, and she likes to decorate the house with it. While I am sitting at my laptop doing my morning writing, I keep hearing drops onto the old wood floor of the living room. I shrug it off for awhile, thinking she is playing with some of her heavier toys, like her tire, her five-foot stuffed snake with the plastic head, or her big kong. But nope, when I catch sight of her running past me with a 4 pound log of wood in her mouth, the Pomeranian jumping joyously at her heels, I decide I better investigate, and find she has moved each piece of firewood to a new location.

Two big chuncks are on my bed, one piece is on the bedroom floor, and the rest of them are scattered around the living room. I ask her what in the world she is doing, and she looks proud of herself, then when I give her my displeased look, she sulks off for a moment,  until she thinks I’ve forgotten about her mess, which is usually about 10 seconds, then comes back again ready to play.

When I let them outside, Tonya jumps onto the milk-stand turned dog sofa sitting beside the front door. It used to have two dogs beds on it but Tonya chewed them up so badly they had to be thrown away. Tonya ran out the door, immediately grabbed the board off the milk stand she had un-nailed yesterday and threw it on the ground…happy to have found a chunk of wood to play with once again. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I don’t know if anything could set a day right better than the antics of happy dogs at play. Even digging in the yard, there is something contagious about their enthusiasm and love of life, and of us, even when we are not at our best. Even when we’re grumpy, or mean, or look a mess first thing in the morning, our dogs look at us like we are the most wonderful human in the world. And to that dog, in that moment, we are.

Tonya is in training to be a therapy dog. That was my intention when I got her as a 6 week old puppy. A dog whose breed is often stigmatized unfairly. A dog that is often guilty, unless proven innocent. A dog that I could relate to.

I didn’t set out to change the world’s perception of pitbull dogs, but rather, to prove to myself that the lies others tell about us, that we tell about ourselves, are just that, lies. And to be happy, we just have to…be happy. And no matter what someone has said about us, what lies they’ve told: “you’re not good enough”, “you’re a cheater”, “you are ugly”, “you are worthless”, “you are a dumb-ass whore”, “you make me sick”, “you are one of those horrible people”, etc.  We are reminded that a statement does not equal truth, even if it is directed at us, or our dog, even if our dog is a pitbull. Untruths have no bearing on who we really are.

And then we can breath again.

ps. Tonya has her own instagram page @myantoniathepitbull

Sacred

Of a Smokey Stove and a Cold Morning

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I might say, it’s a wee bit cold in the castle this morning. The chimney is a little clogged but the clean out cap is solidly rusted on…thanks to a chimney sweep who removed the old, cumbersome chimney cap and replaced it with a new version that never kept the rain out, turning the chimney pipe into a steam heater, solidly gluing deposits of burned wood to the sides of the pipe. Summer dried the deposits out and loosened them, and gravity made sure they all fell to the bottom of the pipe, effectively inhibiting the flow of smoke up the chimney.

We have a fire going this morning, but it’s a bit smokey upon opening the stove door. A chimney sweep is being sourced at this time, after my failed attempts at removing the cap as well as the entire lower pipe piece. None of the pipe moves without moving the stove, and I am no match for a 1000 pound wood stove.

The clogged stove pipe reminds me of a few interesting insights I’ve experienced lately, being less focused on my personal problems, and more focused on things that make me feel good, like a clean sink, a swept floor, that sort of thing. It’s funny how that happens. It’s always unexpected, and only happens after you take your focus off the thing you are trying to figure out.

Kind of like a clogged chimney, where the heat and smoke don’t flow freely, and when looked at, back up out of the stove door as soon as it’s opened. When we look at our problems, and focus on them, they clog up our minds and our bodies, making us depressed, anxious, and a bit crazy. But taking the focus OFF of our problems and the things we DON’T like, and focusing instead on the things in our lives we DO like, even little things, or anything else, besides our problems, we clear the way for solutions and answers to flow freely to us, uninhibited.

So, I play games with my five year old grandson with no guilt at all. In the grocery store, we pretend we are crawling through the ductwork in the ceiling, at home we play genies and gems on the computer, get excited over new pokemon we’ve caught or hatched, animate the dogs and stuffed animals, and make up new dances and short plays…

Everyone should have access to a five-year old child. We could all throw away our prozac while constructing an imaginary world that is a lot more fun and less problematic than our “real lives”.

And that is all.

Construct

My Neighbors Dog

I’ve always wondered if people who live next door to writers ever walk a little tighter line for fear of being portrayed negatively in some some novel, or magazine article, and lately, maybe even a facebook post. Sometimes I grin mischievously to myself when I think of the “relationship” that landed me out here in the middle of no where, away from friends and family, only to dissolve under the pretense of love gone bad. There of course, was never any love. Love does not go bad. But when I sit down to novelize some of the craziness that went on here before he left…my brain shuts off and my computer freezes up. The past, I realize, no matter how awful or even how glorious, is best left where it is, and not regurgitated, longed for, worried about, or dreamed of. Sometimes though, it kind of shows back up unexpectedly.

One of my neighbors, whom I’ll call Mr. Bagsly, has a dog I’ll call Dog, since I don’t know his name, or even if he has a name. Dog does not like me. I don’t know why. I put food out for Dog every day. Dog visits morning and night, and sometimes all day too. My dogs do not like Dog. I don’t know why. He is nearly a permanent fixture here. He even poops in the yard. My dogs bark at Dog whenever they see him. Mr. Bagsly kept Dog tied up for years, now that Dog is free, I don’t think he knows what to do with himself.

When I come out of the yard fence, Dog will lunge at me like a wolf. Dog scares me. Dog hides behind the truck near the garage and when I come around to get grain for the goats in the dark evenings, he is often laying there, like he’s waiting for me. I think Dog might want to attack me, but he never has. So far.

Mr. Bagsly used to run down the road with a leash whenever Dog got loose and catch him and bring him back home. Now, Mr. Bagsly never tries to get Dog to come back home. So Dog stays on this farm a lot of the time. But no matter what I’ve tried, Dog refuses any kind of affection. He will not even take meat leftovers out of my hand, or dropped on the ground. He refuses anything I offer.

This “thing” I have going on with Dog kind of reminds me of the “relationship” I had with the person who used to live here. I tried everything humanly possible to befriend that person. I went out of my way to do things for him. I tried every way I knew how to show and prove I loved him. But, like Dog, he never trusted me and never grew to love me. Never. In the 15 years I knew him, he never once told me he loved me. He never once trusted me. He never once was happy with me or happy to be with me. Ever. And I always blamed myself. I constantly worked on myself to make  myself more lovable, more gentle and kind, more understanding, more patient, more worthy.

Some days I think maybe he and Dog are onto something. Maybe they know secret things about me that “common idiots” like my my friends and my own dogs, are too stupid too see. Some days I want to put a bullet through my head and just get the hell out of here. But then I remember, because I’ve done so much work on myself, that we attract people and conditions into our lives that we are a match for. For example, when we are able to be happy and joyful and connected to God, no matter our current circumstances, we attract happy, joyful, God/Source centered people into our lives.

Esther Hicks says that to attract happy circumstances into your life, you first have to BE happy. Our culture has it backwards. Society tells us that when everything is perfect, THEN we’ll be happy. It’s a very hard way of thinking to break. But, our happiness depends on…us being happy.

And about that dog. I really don’t care if Dog likes me or not. I realize he probably has suffered trauma and abuse at the hands of his owner, and is acting the only way he knows how, and it has nothing to do with me.

Nothing. To. Do. With. Me.

Culture

Liminal

Today WordPress’s one-word prompt of the day is “Liminal”.  Merriam Webster defines Liminal as: 1) of or relating to a sensory threshold 2) barely perceptible 3) of, relating to, or being in an intermediate state, phase, or condition: in-between, transitional, as in the liminal state between life and death.

Whoa, doesn’t that just describe me and this farm most days to a T? I don’t think I’ve ever had a day when I could say, “okay, this is it, I’m where I need to be, now it’s time to get down to the business of living.” Instead, most days are spent trying to figure out how to get over the next hurdle; what to do about a partner who wants to end a relationship and I have no where to go, finally ending the relationship and then finding myself the sole owner of an old, run-down house I have no money or knowledge to know how to fix, watching the hay supply get smaller and smaller with no funds to buy more, watching my grandson get sicker and sicker, and then finally being diagnosed with Leukemia and all the horror that treatment entails.

As I watch  myself in the mirror every day getting older and older, realizing I can’t stop the train of aging, I teeter in the Liminal state of one day looking in the mirror, or perhaps passing that certain birthday, where I will actually be old enough to be “old”. And dreading that day, while looking forward to it at the same time. Old people don’t have to worry about all this liminal stuff. They can wake up anytime they want, take some meds, go back to sleep, watch TV, play with their great grandkids, go for a walk, fall down, pee in the bed, spit food all over their nurses, and finally hold their breath long enough that they die.

The End.

I don’t know if anyone ever gets to the place where they can say “I’ve arrived”. Except maybe when they get to Walmart, that’s kind of hard to miss, and you certainly know you are there. And maybe this great lostness, and unknowingness we all feel at some time or another, is yet but another really good reason to just to super nice to each other all the time, and help each other through our liminal phases. After all, in the end, we all travel the same road into eternity…or maybe some of us head south while the rest of us tarry on towards the much cooler north, but maybe that’s really the only state of non-liminalness that exists…the state of finally being with our Lord. Thinking about it that way kind of takes the pressure off down here, don’t you think?

I wish you all a less liminal, beautiful Sunday.

 

 

 

 

Liminal

It’s Too Dark To Exercise!

Even though I did no feasting over the Thanksgiving holiday, (I know, dieters everywhere are hating me right now), I feel sated. Full. Stuffed. Over-full. Like I need a 10 mile run. Times 10. With shorter winter days, it’s getting harder and harder to find a safe place to get outside for exercise while it’s still light.

When I lived in the city, I often ran in the dark on well lit streets or at the gym. Living in the countryside, down a narrow back road with no hint of a street light or sidewalk or even a place to jump off the road when a car full of drucken teenagers or a farmer late for milking comes barreling down the road, unless you count the ditch.

And I’m not a fan of night time, country roadside ditches. They are full of road-kill stew…only not the edible kind…rather a mixed brew stew of opossums, deer, racoons, dogs, cats, vultures…and any other kind of  vehicular homicide varmit victim, with broken glass and paper wrapers thrown in for good measure, or maybe seasoning. Nope, especially after a rainstorms when the ditches are full of water and the “stew” is much more stew-like, and even more gruesome. Nope. Can’t go there.
Where I live, in the middle of no where, the only gym in town, a ladies-only gym, opens from 10 am to 4pm. I mean, who can actually use a gym with hours like that? And so, the satiation factor seems to be growing, increasing, maintaining a wider girth, etc. Luckily, I live on a farm where there is always free exercise to be had, although not quite the kind I’m wanting, and I rarely have junk food in the house…or if it does manage to wiggle in through the doorway with my daughter or my grandson, it’s soon gone, and then there is none any more.

So today, I’m thinking up a plan. One to beat down the satation feeling just a bit, and increase the feeling of being a lean, mean, (I’m actually nice, but nice doesn’t fit here), farming woman machine. Something I can do in the house, but not a treadmill. If I ran on a treadmill in the living room, me and the treadmill would soon be under the house, probably with the house on top of us.

Must. Think. Of. Something. Else.

Happy Saturday everyone!

Sated