Learning how to undo

When I can't hand stitch like before, nor can I use my machine daily (or I SHOULDN'T use it daily), how do I fill those minutes previously spent DOING....

Oh, and we learned recently that according to the chickens, rice straw is NOT the same as wheat straw. Mostly in that wheat straw contains tasty little kernels of wheat, lol, while rice straw is merely, well, straw. Once we can acquire a bale of wheat straw, the hens will be happy. They LITERALLY were clucking and complaining vociferously when we put out the new straw....

 

Nadia and Owl permitted me a few shots yesterday afternoon....

But back to the topic at hand, ahem. I'm definitely a Do'er. I have lists, I like to be busy. Not that I don't like to relax, but relaxing at the end of the day used to mean sitting with a trove of English paper piecing or hand-quilting and I was happy as a dustbathing hen. Today the chickies found a new place in the sun to dig and dust themselves, all eight cloistered together like they were lounging in a dirt-sauna.

A Barnevelder, Nadia is our most independent hen.

Hens like doing; if they're lounging, they might be bathing or preening or pecking at the ground for a tidbit. Otherwise they're pecking at the ground for a tidbit, HAH! Rare are the moments they're vegging out, now there's a concept! Same goes for me. Or it did until my neck/shoulder made me halt forward progress at my normal speed. Thank the LORD I can type with impunity, oh my goodness. But evenings have altered; I read more, and a lot of that is Scripture in nature, smiley face. I'm reading through the next installment of The Hawk as well, two to three chapters a night, and previously all revisions occurred in the morning. Well, most revisions. In 2024, I read two to three chapters late in the afternoons/early evenings when I first undertook the major re-hash of that saga. Perhaps in that action, I opened a door that now I'm walking through most nights. Because most nights I find myself wondering how to fill the hours till it's time for bed.

Maybe I need a lesson from the hens, who do NOTHING when they are laying. Today four of them chose to lay on what we call The Shelf, a record! Photo courtesy of my husband.

Undoing is a vital part of being; it's sitting still, resting in the quiet, not plotting how to achieve anything tangible. It's taking stock, breathing deeply, allowing peace to flow not because I've earned it by this or that chore. Yet it's a hard lesson for me, long used to filling the end of the day with...filler. Hand-stitching isn't evil, but my concentration in the midst of it is tied into exactly what I'm doing. Could I filter out those detail-oriented notions? My neck and shoulder aren't going to care; repetitive motion does them in. I could try that tonight, which is a few hours away. The time change seems to make chock-ful days even more chocky, lol. It's almost four in the afternoon, where has this day gone? I wrote more than half a chapter this morning, that certainly sucked up a fair amount of the day. I did a load of laundry, made the bed, ate lunch.... We ran errands after lunch, then I read over what I wrote, made a few corrections, then thought, I'm going to write a post about undoing. Oh my goodness, I need more than a post, I need a freakin' class in taking it easy!

Chickies!

Or maybe more importantly, I need to close my eyes, breathing deeply, allowing peace to flow. So much upheaval, so little peace it seems. Meanwhile, here's a bit of my being a writer, not sure how that figures into this entry, but I wanted to include it, in part that early this morning I wasn't sure I would/could write something. And a few hours later, I did. Was that undoing? I don't know. But as Kim is finding peace, maybe I will too....

 

 

Twenty minutes later Trevor arrived, then led Jamey to Lora’s truck, another bit of Deadfern gossip being relayed to anyone interested. In the parking area Kim stood with Sailor, on his phone with Tom Rivers, informing Tom that indeed a female mechanic had fixed the problem, and that as always, Sailor and Kim stood behind all their employees’ work. Sailor said that emphatically in part that Tom was very hard of hearing and that Raymond was twenty feet away, grousing into his phone, trying to find a tow truck to haul away his vehicle.

Gazing at Kim standing confidently beside him, Sailor half-listened to Tom. If anyone needed proof that something had occurred last weekend, Kim’s buoyant stance, as well as her chipper tone on her own phone, would relay that things on their end of Murdoch Avenue had altered significantly. Sailor was grateful to have missed Raymond’s tirade, what Dennis called it, yet a husband wished to have seen his wife give a total deadbeat the dressing-down Raymond so deserved. Kim had wanted to haul Dressel to small claims court for the bounced check, but Sailor had advised against it, assuming Raymond would try again one day to use their services. That it happened to be after Kim was healed….

“Well Tom, you come over, have a look at Beulah, and if you’re not satisfied, there’ll be no charge.” Sailor nearly yelled that, wanting to further piss off Raymond.

Kim giggled softly, then turned toward Lora’s truck, what Trevor was using that day. Sailor inwardly wondered if Jamey knew all of Trevor’s history, but the love lives of his employees wasn’t his concern, especially that day. “All right Tom,” Sailor said. “We’ll see you and Dinah before lunch. Yup, always nice chatting with you.” Sailor shoved his phone in a back pocket, briefly closed his eyes, then cleared his throat. “Kim, write up an invoice for Tom Rivers please.”

“Yeah?” she said, now facing Sailor.

“Yup. Tom says so.”

Kim nodded, smiled, then quickly glanced at Lora’s pick-up, where inside the cab Trevor and Jamey still sat. Sailor wondered if Jamey was hoping to outwait a tow truck driver, or if she just needed time with…. Sailor shook his head, but stared at Raymond as he did so. If Jamey got mixed up with Trevor, it was none of Sailor’s business. Was Lora aware, Sailor briefly pondered as he followed Kim to the garage, Raymond still swearing into his phone.

Jordan and Dennis were under the hood of a newish SUV, its owner on his phone. Sailor didn’t know the man, and he approached the vehicle as Kim went into her office. The man sneezed, then ended his phone call. “Uh, you the owner?” he said to Sailor.

“Co-owner,” Sailor smiled.

“Uh-huh,” the man muttered.

Sailor didn’t respond verbally. There was something uplifting about Kim’s healing, if only now there was another voice in the shop proper. Sailor shoved his hands in his pockets as the customer did the same, then the man spoke. “So, I, uh…. I just wanted to get the engine checked. Light came on as I got up the hill.”

“It happens,” Sailor said. “Jordan and Dennis will give it a thorough inspection.”

“Uh, sure. Okay, I mean, thanks.”

“You bet.” Sailor smiled, then walked away. He wanted to speak to his wife, yet didn’t want to appear as if trailing after her. His phone pinged, it was Rickey. Sailor rolled his eyes, but didn’t read more than the first line. Then Kim texted, and he headed toward the office. That too was new.

If Kim needed him, she hollered. Maybe there had been enough yelling, Sailor considered. “Yeah?” he said, reaching the office doorway.

“Come in, and close the door please.”

Sailor did so, then sat in the customer chair. “You okay honey?”

Kim nodded, then sighed. “I’m sorry about, I mean….”

Sailor shook his head. “Don’t be. Ray’s an asshole. He deserved every bit of it.”

Kim frowned, then nodded. “I just, I couldn’t help it. Literally,” she added. Then she stood, approaching where Sailor sat. Kim knelt in front of him. “Everything’s really different today.”

Tears rolled down her face and Sailor brushed away those pooling at her jaw. “You see what you’re doing?” he squeaked, wanting to cry along with her.

“I know,” she giggled, wiping her face on her sleeve. “I might even be able to get up by myself.”

“Honey….” Sailor had much to tell her, how grateful and proud he was, how shocked. And that for how thrilled he was by her continued good health, he still didn’t….

He didn’t believe in God. Why did that even matter, he wondered. Did he want to believe? Jordan did, or he believed before and this solidified his faith. Sailor rolled his eyes as Kim again giggled. That too was noteworthy, she never giggled. She might laugh at a really good joke, or smile if Lora happened to have something nice to say, but…. “What’s so funny,” he had to know.

“This, today, life.” Kim sighed, then slowly went to her feet. She gripped the desk for support, chuckled, then sighed again. “I need to ask you something, but it might make you mad.”

Sailor stood, grasping her hands. “Honey, I love you. Whatever you need, just tell me.”

She stroked his face. “I wanted to rip him a new backside, Raymond I mean. But I couldn’t use those words.” Kim trembled. “I don’t wanna make it garage policy, at least not today, but if you, if you could not, if….”

She didn’t want him to swear anymore. Sailor shivered, not that he had a foul mouth, but at times the words emerged. Dennis was the worst; would he get called into the office next? Sailor blinked, then gazed at Kim, guilt on her face. The flip side of Raymond getting his ass chewed off, Sailor realized, but he nodded, kissed Kim’s forehead, then pressed his brow there. “I love you baby. I’ll do the best I can.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anything else?”

Kim backed away, a smirk on her soppy face. “Go see if Jamey and Trevor are making out.”

“Can you say things like that?” Sailor teased.

Kim grunted, then tapped his shoulder. “I love you,” she murmured.

“Love you too,” Sailor said, caressing her cheek, her tears like fire along his fingertips. He exited her office, but didn’t the close the door behind him.