Cloudy Day

This morning I awoke 25 minutes before we were supposed to be headed to work.  That's never good.  We scurried about and with lunch in hand, left the house about 5 minutes late.  The constant chatter from the studded tires sang their happiness the whole way.  Dry pavement but clouds had gathered over head and the promise of rain was in the air.

If you work at a school, you will realize that the weather has a lot to do with the mood of the attendees.  Probably the staff too.  So today started off rather sharply with student movement to detention locations.  Steady as she goes, the day unfolded with bursts of flair ups. 

I will never forget the huge tears that fell on his papers.  The look of... I'm not even sure.  But when the emotion started rolling, I was sure I was in a bad spot.  The words that came out of his mouth were certainly crushing and broke me to the core.  When the dust had settled I checked my soul for injury.  Yep.  There was plenty of that.  Bruised and battered from the angry words tossed so carelessly, regrouping seemed necessary.  I spent my lunch break alone with the one who truly knows me, truly gives me peace and always shelters me. 

The work day ended with struggle.  It was just one of those days.

As we drove home, I shared my day with my "fine figure of a man".  The tears that welled up and spilt over were from the recent bruising.  He knows these emotions.  He feels the pain and heartache right along with me.  I thank God every day that I am blessed to share with my dear husband.

As if to find something that would lighten, we spoke of the weather. 

Twenty percent isn't much of a hope but the figure was enough to convince the rain to collect in the mountains as if converging to dance on the hills.  A dance to celebrate a much needed rain shower.  As if to celebrate the arrival of a baby, or wedding or that of a life.  Once the mountain tops have felt the dampness, they share.  Riding the winds skyline to the valley floor, fresh rain brings a smell unsurpassed to none.

As our little cottage warmed, the smells of dinner filled the air.  The chicken seemed to take a little longer than we anticipated but tax preparation was quick.  As the rain gently washed from the top of the roof, to the eves, to the ground, the sound of liquid happiness made me smile. 

Check, Check

Check. Check.  My "fine figure of a man" always checks to make sure our little home is secure when the evening is done and bedtime is upon.  There's a diligence in his duty that is continuous, never ending.  Always there.  Much like making sure there is wood in the shed for winter warmth.   Today Papa came over to help cut the rest of the wood so the shed could be further filled.  Grandma came with him to enjoy a visit, sit in the red lawn chairs and enjoy the blaring, loud sunshine.  January weather isn't supposed to be so amazing.  But it was and is.

It was a day of cleaning, washing, cutting, clearing and burning.  Bringing things back to a state of clean areas and tidy corners.  The cows thought it was time for another feeding when they saw us in the outdoors.  We just laughed at them and told them to go find some greenness to nibble.  They lost interest and eventually wandered away.

Four geese. Two going East and a little later, two going West.  As if they had been at a neighbors, visiting and going home.  Wouldn't have even known they were there.  Silence.  They aren't usually that silent when passing by.  But today there was quiet in the calm skies.

My sister said she likes her quiet little life.  Made for a thankful moment of reflection.  Settled my heart and soul.  But in the midst, made me miss.  Made me thankful for the man who checks the doors.

At the Cross

As the school year ended, she approached my desk to ask a favor.  She wanted a couple of the crosses that were at his memorial service.  Misplaced her first one, she wanted to make sure she had at least an extra to always keep.  To always remember.  She said she might be moving. She wasn't sure.  Not knowing if I would see her before summer break, I reached in my pocket and gave her mine.  Here, just in case I don't find the others before we are no longer in touch.

Turns out...she didn't move.  

Today she was in my office.  She arrived early but she was far from cheery.  I inquired.  "How are you?"  "Not so good" was her reply as she fiddled with her paper, eyes downcast.  Not wanting to pry, but pressing forward.  "What's going on?"  "I'm just really sad today and grumpy people".  She didn't even know why she was so sad on this 17th day of January.  Here, let me share my sadness with you and I pressed.  I pressed in on her sadness to break the seal so emotion would leak out her eyes and give her the ability to release for a measure of healing.

We spoke of her plans to graduate a full year early.  Of her friend's sadness and pain in watching her momma go through cancer yet again...with a difficult prognosis for life on this earth.  We shared a hug because she thought that would make her feel better.  A hug tightly woven with common loss of a dear friend I call my son. 

I encouraged her to seek her faith and never give up. 
     She smiled. 
I told her that it was Taco Night and to enjoy his favorite meal to celebrate his life. 
     I smiled.

As if in a kaleidoscope of colors, time and thoughts of Sawyer inner mix in constant motion.  But there are days when the movement settles and the pain is in clear view without all the movement and it's easy to get lost in the feel that time is slowly creeping...as if to stand still in the moment.

Tonight was Taco Night.  Pretty sure our household wasn't the only place where the blend of corn, meat, cheese and tomatoes collided and placed a smile of the faces of those who remember and have a whole new reason to eat this yummy meal.

Here's to remembering with a smile~

Foggy Days

Stepping out of our little home this morning brought the awareness of slick surfaces, ground settling fog and light snow flakes.  The snow flakes were most likely freezing fog coming off the trees but it really looked like it was snowing, lightly.  As I drove from our little valley to the main Scott Valley, the fog seemed to lift slightly.  When the fog lifts "slightly" it means that visibility increases greatly.  As I neared Forrest Mountain to make the windy drive up and over, things were much brighter.  Scott Valley living can be very dreary in the winter months when the fog settles to the ground and refuses to leave.  Trapped.  With no escape. 

Usually the fog does not settle to stay in Yreka.  Today it hung around like an umbrella tree sheltering a summer shade garden.  It had it's job.  To keep things nice and crisp.  It did it well. 

Coming home I was greeted by a scene with which I am familiar.  A blanket of fog lapping at the mountain road as if it were a lake shore.  The look of a lake with islands protruding from the depths of the water.  Lake Scott Valley.  The sky above, bright and blue as if to mock the fog below.  It is hard to give up the sunshine and descend the elevation into the freezing temperatures that contain less than a breath of air. 

During these bleak, oppressive times when the thick cold fog hangs for days, the flocked white trees show off their branches in elegant fashion.  The barbed wire fences remain silent.  Frozen in place while encased in the lacy chars of ice.  Black and white photos are unnecessary because those colors are already on display.

There's a harshness about the brutal cold weather that lends to cozy nights by the fire and long January days inside.  There's a coziness about this thick soupy fog that wants to be needed.  There's true happiness from the population of people quickly moving from store to car to home when the fog lifts.  Isn't that life?  When life gets brutal and the temperature of real life goes extreme, we seek the ways that comfort and hold.  Life doesn't always have to shine brightly to be beautiful.  Hidden beauty is always in sight but not always revealed or appreciated by the beholder.

Recent Flocking

The morning air was crisp and cold.  The kind of cold that settles to the insides if you doddle when venturing out to feed the critters.  The mountains were flocked.  White in all their majesty.  Snow with a crisp freeze.  Looking up to the Big Meadows area always tells the tale of the prior night.  And last night was no doubt cold and brutal in the highness of our surrounding hills.  Because the rising sun always hits first on these high peaks, it is such a centerpiece for the day when it is clear.  A particular family favorite, I look not only on a creation but on a spot with many memories.  Some of our best family outings were through those meadows and the cut that sits just below the highest peak in the Marble Mountains.  Hank Wright Lakes sit below this Monument Peak.  Lakes that hold years and years of memories from childhood to middle aged.

Football was on the agenda today.  Watching the 49ers mostly.  My "fine figure of a man" and I went to my parents to watch the game this morning.  We enjoy watching the game with the folks.  The 49ers did not disappoint their fans today with their big win!  After game #1 we went to Grant's parents to watch game #2.  Also enjoyable, but the teams weren't quite as important as the prior one.  So I can definitely say it was a good day of competitiveness and good conversations with our parents. 

My dad said today that the "old timers" used to say the snow flocks the trees in the high mountains, it would do it again in 3 days.  Interesting.  We'll have to keep our eye on that.  Reminded me of something my Grandpa said years ago that if it rains on Easter Sunday it will rain for 7 consecutive Sundays.  I have always kept my eye on that one and ya know.....it always comes very close.

We ventured home in time to create the dinner for Day #9 on our recently started diet plan.  Friends.  Always nice to have people over for dinner.  They willingly ate our diet food that turned out to not be new food for them.  They know how to pronounce Quionia, and but I'm still learning.

It's a new week.  A new Monday.  New adventures, new opportunities.  Somewhere tomorrow a mom will mourn the day of her son's passing.  Somewhere tomorrow someone will loose a loved one.  Someone tomorrow will know that as each day passes they are closer to a loved one who went to Heaven before them.  No matter our trials, sorrow, sadness, loneliness there is hope in the high hills where the trees sing at the coming of the winter storm season because they know that the cold frigidness gives way to meadows gurgling with fresh water and wild flowers.

Where There Are Flowers

Today was a day of many good things. 

The runaway who showed up for school and actually stayed the whole day; probably because we fed her and she was warm.  This girl.  Pretty sure she's seen messy and felt it too.  Her chin showed her anger and defiance but when I looked into her eyes I saw helplessness and heartache.  Maybe.  Just maybe there was a connection made.

Then there was the student who always makes me smile.  He came in late as usual.  With the same nonchalant attitude.  Almost like he doesn't know how to tell time or simple doesn't care what time it is.  He asked me if I had done something different with my hair.  Yep.  Got it cut not too long ago.  He went to class, late slip in hand.  However, he didn't actually go to class.  He went right out the back door, around to his car and off he went.  Never even went to class.  Have to admit.  Made me smile when I found out.

The lunch lady came in at 9:20 a.m. in all her busyness.  She transports food for our students twice a day.  The students always greet her in such a way that she feels welcome.  She understands their attitude and conversation better then most.  As usual, she sprawled out her bags across the back of the counter and on the stove top.  It wasn't long and there was smoke just boiling from under those plastic bags.  Yep.  She almost had a full fledged fire in the kitchen during break time.  I had to admit to her that although she thought the stove was unplugged to prevent this sort of "meltdown", we had plugged the stove in to cook the holiday lasagna and forgot to unplug.

The recent storm lifted on our way home from work today to reveal the mountains of this valley we call home.  Snow.  Finally.  A dusting and more.  Such a welcome sight.  Maybe winter is here. 

The phone rang while skyping our Arizona boy.  It was our Bend boy.  Just briefly, I felt the presence of family in the room.  It was nice and completed my day. 

Happy New Year 2014!

 

The New Year crept.  Slowly.  The quiet morning day dawned with enough brightness to fill a small house.  Void of the smell of coffee or air.  Slow enough to catch a shadow doddling.  The light of the cross so lovingly placed on the shady side of the barn, fading.  As the old year faded out....new year dawned.

 

As the activity of the holiday season caught up with us in full tilt, effort was given to warming our small home, waiting for the coffee to brew and feeding the cattle we call a herd. 

 

Coffee drank.  Problems solved (or at least hashed out).  Food.  We needed food. 

sausage, check.

tortilla shells, check.

cheese, check.

salsa, check.

Eggs......yep, that's the break down.

But wait....we virtually have a farm in our barnyard.

Hello....this is the Bishop's.  Who may I say is calling?

Eggs.....let me check.

Yep.  We're good. 

Come on over.

We have a hot treat for you too.

 

So over to the neighbors I trodded.  Always fun to see their smiling faces.

And yes, the treat was homemade, warm and yummy.

 

Breakfast was good and provided us with enough energy to consider a walk with friends.

The day, incredibly bright, lacking wind and as warm as could be when starting out below freezing.

The view from the top.  Amazing. 

 

 

 

Don't know what they were talking about but I imagine it had something to do with a memory of a place where tall tales are reality and shadows below the stand of trees where a high mountain meadow meets the boulder pile contain the heartbeat of the much hunted.  The stick, meant to extend the reach so the probability of touching the described spot feels possible.  Where the intensity of the story can only be felt by those who carry deep love for the pursuit. Where the trees know the stories first hand and never breath a word.

 

So here's to plans. 

Plans to enjoy wide open spaces while taking the narrow gate. 

Friends and family. 

The daily filling of things pleasing to Him. 

Choosing Joy. 

Happy New Year!

It's a Wrap

 The Epicness of a year end review. 

The breath of life. 

The stillness of photography that lowers the beat of the heart.

Those moments that make up so many memories.

 

If you were part of my life in 2013.....Thank you!

 

As we move into a new year, I know that God holds us in the palm of his hand. 

Whatever is involved with this part of the journey, I choose to be thankful.