I let the chickens out today, and much to my surprise it became the best part of my day, for it forced me to stop and smell the roses. You see it had been a good day, a fulfilling day, with much hard work and tasks accomplished.

There was an unexpected, but welcome caller to be enjoyed and fed. A necessary and pleasant visit to admire the current stage of a renovation of unbelievable proportions. The animals and their habitats were tended. Lawns were mowed, hedges trimmed, wood prepared for burning, and sidewalks were swept clean for scooter sailing grandbabies. Then, heavy sigh, when contemplating how to repair a potential breakage in the chicken run, I forgot, left the door open, and therefore provided the girls access to the beckoning moist soil teeming with delicacies, outside over there, beyond the confines of their placement.

Well, I took a seat, because having moved my daughters freedom garden to our new domicile recently, there were pots, and pots, and pots of edibles lined up and waiting for me to win the great grass war of 2015, and I knew that it would only take a blink of an eye for those beauties to uproot her many years worth of winnowing, and besides chicken corralling is not something I am fond of; it takes too much work.

As I waited, I watched the girls scratch and turn the soil. Then it happened, as I inhaled the newly released pungent aroma of the earth, time stood still and opened my senses to the peacefulness of God’s creation. What else could I do, but lean back, pause the looping to do list of my mind, and commence the mental recitation of God’s Glory.

“Praise God from Whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him, all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!”

Thomas Ken 1674

Hum……should I be concerned? I asked for a thankful tree and this is what I got. I do not know why I was caught off guard, really by now I should expect it, because the year I expressed a desire for a new tree topper I arrived home to this.

I suppose it was better than Ahab’s whale that was adorning the front porch, maybe?

At least I could be thankful that it was stationary. I still recall the Halloween I followed my son around with this monster while he trick or treated as Captain Ahab. I also remember my feelings of smug self satisfaction that I had such an imaginative child, that is until he informed me that I would make a perfect whale. The Lord has a really good sense of humor when it comes to smacking down your pride.

But honestly, I think perhaps it is time to don my wolf suit, make mischief of one kind or another, and tame the wild beasts.

Why did I do it? Everything was chugging along just fine. I was walking to work (one time), I was taking all my medications as instructed (maybe), correcting my diet (most times), I was doing my strengthening exercises (allot), and actually starting projects rather than only accomplishing them in my mind for a change, then I had an idea

My family has enough common sense to scatter when I utter those four words together; I obviously do not.  Well, I had this idea, since my small baby step efforts where making such a difference, why not go all the way and accept the help so often offered by others, and being cursed with a lack of moderation I busily made appointments with every management program I had been offered.

So there I was, with my already trimmed to the bone schedule to be able to accommodate my maybes, sometimes, and allots, when what did I do but try and fix what was not broken, for the more hours I spent with the experts telling me how much they were going to help me, and that they had a better way, the less I did.

I could go on and on here about how all these appointments of being told what and how to do what I already knew were using up all the time I had available to do it, but really it was my quirk, that thorn in my side, the inability to do as I should multiplied a googolplex by my fear of failure.

For you see, I had made a fatal flaw, I told others, it was public, they were watching.

Today however, I had an idea, the time has come the walrus said, wait, that’s wrong, the time has come to try a new beginning, and so tomorrow I will start small with the important things, such as praise and thanksgiving that the The Lord has blessed me with another day and then just maybe I’ll make my bed.

I have declared war on my grass, and I refuse to acknowledge that I might not win. However regardless of the outcome, I already have victory in hand, for who would have guessed the therapeutic nature of a shovel.

Ugh…..today is my dish day. Well I am the one that does not want an automated dishwasher. I am also the one that likes to cook large, and the one who tends to make the messes, for much to my families distaste, cooking brings out my creative side.

I can not help it, I open the refrigerator, see the bounty, and it happens, I think what if? I do not really see why they have to get so upset, if it is bad they never have to eat it again, and if it is delicious, they should simply enjoy, because they are never going to get it again, for with an everything in fridge approach to cooking, it is never the same thing twice.

This method of cooking suits me just fine and dandy until it is my dish day, because you see, with seven dish washers there is just enough of a gap to get complacent, therefore I forget to rein in the enthusiasm.

So, it is in these moments that I wish I had not decided to lead by example rather than rule by decree, because looking at my damage today is making the position of queen seem like a really choice duty.