Quality of Life

“We give thanks to God always for all of you, remembering you in our prayers, unceasingly.” (Thessalonians 1:2)

I have some important decisions to make here at The Herbal Hare Homestead, decisions that have me back in therapy. But that’s a good thing. Because they are decisions that I keep procrastinating about, decisions that may require some information before I can truly make them. And I’ve been spinning my wheels for so long, I don’t know which way is right.

Sound ambiguous?

It’s nothing compared to the ambiguity in my head.

I had my first fully-fledged panic attack a few weeks ago, complete with a tight chest, shortness of breath and I alternated between tears and rage. I came close to changing direction on the way to work and heading to the emergency room until I realized that, as I took a few deep breaths, the symptoms went away almost immediately. However, not taking any chances, I have since gone to the doctor. The doc did an EKG on me (electrocardiogram); the EKG came back with no concerns. He also ordered a stress test, which is coming up in about two weeks. I had one last summer and it came back fine; hopefully, this one will, too. But it has made me realize how unhealthy my current stress levels are. I keep talking about the books I’ve been writing, the homesteading plans I have, etc. and, if I keep running at this uncontrollable, breakneck speed, I’m not going to be here to realize these dreams. Or to enjoy them once they are a fait accompli.

And that’s just not acceptable.

Because, if I am not here to enjoy these dreams–or even to enjoy the journey towards them–what’s the point of having them? More, if my current stress levels are having such an impact on my life, then am I really living? As far as I know, though I do believe in reincarnation, this is the only life I am guaranteed to live. And there’s no way in knowing how many days this life is numbered. Only God has that answer.

I’ve been hearing myself over the last few weeks. I’m snappy, irritable, tired all the time. Poor Mom! She’s suddenly become roommates with Grumpy from the Seven Dwarfs. That’s not fair to either of us. Again, not really living. And life is way too precious to waste being stressed out and miserable.

So, while I go through all of the health procedures to ensure that this isn’t something physical, I am also back in therapy. And this is the smartest decision I’ve been able to make in a long time. After hearing everything, my therapist has me back in for regular visits every two weeks with some “homework” in between. I actually felt much, much better with just one visit; I am looking forward to the next one.

As for the results? I give them to God; I’ve been neglecting Him a little lately, too. Also unacceptable. And He’s let me know with a panic attack. Time to stop, put aside the “little” things and remember what’s most important. I’m giving thanks for that anxiety/panic attack. Rock bottom can be a blessing; the only way to go is up and back on top.

May God bless you & keep you!

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Away To Me!

“When David saw the angel, he said to the Lord, ‘Look, I am the one who has sinned! What have these sheep done? Let your anger be only against me and my family.'” (2 Samuel 24:17)

Nope. No sacrifices being made here. Just a lamentation (maybe I should’ve chosen that book from the Bible for my passage instead…) after a wonderful Saturday spent with one of my best friends at the annual Connecticut Sheep & Wool Festival.

Wonderful because of the company. And wonderful because this is a beloved event that neither my friend nor I want to miss. In the last 8-10 years or so, I think we’ve missed one. But, don’t quote me on that, because I’m not even sure about the one miss. It’s all things fiber: yarns, fabric, spinning, weaving, knitting and, of course, the myriad animals that produce these fibers–sheep, Angora goats, alpacas, Angora rabbits. One year, there was even some silkworms! How cool was that? While I confess that this year was a little short on the animal attendance, still, we love this event so it was a good day all around.

Lamentation?

This event feeds that internal hunger, that innate desire to cultivate and create a life that mirrors this event. Not so much as regards the fiber production; I’ve got that down already. While I don’t have my own loom yet, nor the walking wheel I hope to score “Someday”, I’m learning spinning, weaving, knitting and there’s a dyeing demonstration coming up at the end of the month at work that I hope to be allowed to help with. So that’s happening. And, as I continue to work with fibers in the 19th century, I am confident that I can pull this knowledge into the 21st.

My lamentation is the border collies.

Sure, I can go out tomorrow and adopt a rescued border collie. And that’s not a bad idea. But my dream, my desire, is to work with border collies, to train them to herd sheep. And, before the armchair experts come out of the woodwork, yes, they should have an internal instinct to herd. However, if they haven’t been trained, or sheep broke, as it is often called, their instincts may tell them to go after the sheep, but they may just as easily run them down as gather them up and bring them home. That’s why they need training. And it is my fondest wish. These dogs are amazing.

It’s in the “Someday” bucket.

I sure wish “Someday” would finally get here. But, until it does, praise God for what already is…and the dream He’s placed on my heart.

May God bless you & keep you!

Wry Neck in Ducks

“O God, my heart is ready to praise you! I will sing and rejoice before you.” (Psalms 108:1)

One of the new ducklings has something called wry neck. I’ve been raising ducks since 2010. That’s not an incredible amount of time but still, this is the first time I’ve encountered wry neck. I tried getting a better picture but Whimsy, as this little darling has been christened, cannot hold his/her head all the way up. It lists to one side. (Not sure if that comes through entirely in the photo below…)

There is also a picture of Whimsy in the background (right) in this photo:

Whimsy eats and drinks okay but, according to every source I have read on this condition, the problem is vitamin deficiency. So I made a trip to the feed store after work on Sunday and picked some up. It’s really easy. The vitamins are in powdered form and get added into their water supply each day. And it’s totally safe if the other chicks and ducks consume some of the vitamin water. It’s only been a couple of days and I am already seeing less of a list and an easier time getting around. Again, it hasn’t seemed to inhibit Whimsy’s ability to eat or drink but his/her balance does get thrown off from time to time and he/she spooks more easily than the others so I’m hoping for some significant improvement soon! (He/she because Whimsy is still covered in down so not real easy to sex him/her yet.) Keep Whimsy in your prayers…and cross all fingers, toes and anything else you can think of. Apparently, it is a common condition but it hasn’t been for this worry wort of a homesteader.

Praising God for a new learning experience and praying His will is also a speedy recovery.

May God bless you & keep you!

Taking Heart

“Be strong! Be courageous! Do not be afraid of them! For the Lord your God will be with you. He will neither fail or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)

Some days the alarm goes off and it’s all you can do to keep from shutting it off, rolling over and committing to spending the day in bed. Not because you’re ill or seriously sleep-deprived, but because some little guy with a pitchfork is sitting on your shoulder telling lies: You’re not good enough. You’re wasting your time. No matter how hard you work and strive to do otherwise, you will never succeed…or get ahead of the game.

You’re in this alone.

This last one doesn’t frighten me overmuch. I know I am not truly alone; God is always with me. Some days though, it is hard to remember this fact. Not because I don’t feel the Lord’s presence in my life but because, despite my faith, there is a part of me that caves under the onslaught of the adversary’s attack. I start to believe that maybe my life would be better if (fill in the blank). Yearnings escalate. I sink into despair. That little hamster running on the wheel that is my brain just turned into a T-Rex. Inwardly, there is a protest that, if I gave into it, would find me hiding under those covers.

I had just such an anxiety attack yesterday on the way to work. I wanted to turn right back around and head for home. Where it’s safe. It’s known. It’s familiar.

My work place is familiar. No real step out of the comfort zone there. But anxiety, depression, low self-esteem are many of the tools the adversary uses to trip us up. I disobeyed the wowzy wowzy woo woo voice and carried on. The day would begin with or without my presence.

But I’m glad I showed up.

Newly-acquainted friends from my church showed up with their children for our homeschool days and I got to chat, find out I’m not such an oddball after all with wanting to grow my food, raise honey bees or goats; they do all three. There’s a common interest in herbs, too. Rather than spend the day solo in the herb garden (though I fairly love it), I got to spend the day helping my supervisor and another co-worker create a new vegetable garden for our charter school kids to work on as a project. What a great blessing to be able to share gardening (and learn some gardening skills) with so many eager youngsters! Later in the day, a trio of lambs escaped. I got to help round them up and even carried one back to his/her Mama. Such joy! His/her bleating nearly broke my heart but the little kisses I planted upon his/her brow had every ounce of love in my heart being given. And the look on his Mama’s face as I drew near the sheep pen with her baby was classic. I pushed away the dark reminder that said lamb may one day become a roast or a pile of chops; today is when we need to be living. And, God willing, this one will escape such a fate. But that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about bringing the whole herd home with me where such a fate would never be theirs (yes, I have it bad). The rest of the afternoon was spent with my co-worker digging a new hot bed for early plant starts–a good skill to learn for a would-be homesteader.

All in all, it was a productive, happy day and one I would have missed if I had given in to those ol’ devils: anxiety, depression, low self-esteem and even panic that rode with me for much of the hour’s ride into work yesterday morning. I once read a book by author Susan Jeffers entitled, “Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway”. That should be the battle cry for anyone whose ears are being filled with the adversaries lies. I know, oftentimes, it’s easier said than done but I am enough. I am good enough. My time is well-spent. I am a valuable asset. People do like me. And, through that hard work, one step at a time, I am succeeding. I am never alone. God is always with me. And He will never leave me.

Or you.

Invite Him into your life today; you won’t regret it. Take that Mr. Pitchfork.

May God bless you & keep you!

An Unexpected Gift

“There is a right time for everything: A time to be born, a time to die; a time to plant; a time to harvest” (Ecclesiastes 3(1-2)

This is actually one of “those” posts again. The cycles of life and death are never more apparent than when working the earth, working close to the seasons, as one does as a farmer or homesteader. I have been eagerly anticipating the birth of a few ducklings as Dixie Duck has been setting some eggs over the last few weeks. She hatched one yesterday morning. I found the tiniest but most perfectly formed duckling lying on the floor outside of the nest. I wanted to weep. After all this time, with Dixie and I both worrying and waiting and, again, eagerly anticipating.

A stillborn.

It is surely one of those “Why?” questions I hope to ask God someday. I know I’m not supposed to question His wisdom, His plans. But seeing such a tiny life that never got the chance was heartbreaking. Moments later, I also said “Goodbye” to Connie, my New Hampshire Red hen. Truly, Connie was only 3 years old and should have been in the prime of her life. She snuggled down in the hay the night before last, tucked her head under her wing as always and simply went to sleep. I suppose I couldn’t have asked for a kinder end. But I wonder what sort of illness or injury might her stoicism been hiding for she exhibited no sign of either. And there were no signs of having skirmished with either a fellow chicken or even the hoof of a goat.

(Miss Connie is in the lower right corner of picture)

I’m going to hold in my heart that she went to care for the little one, Little Duckie, as I christened his/her remains, on his way to eternal rest. So little and cute, he/she needed someone to care for them. And Dixie, being the only female duck on the farm, elected to stay. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Of course, I also said “Goodbye” to a human acquaintance this week, too. A gentleman who used to greet people at church and also serve as an usher was found on March 21st on the floor of his home. He had suffered a coronary; his 86 (I think; give or take) year old father found him. And my heart goes out to him. I worked with Don at the dealership (the father, not the son); we also share the same parish. I can’t imagine the pain of losing one’s child, no matter how old (Stephen was in his early-60’s). To make matters worse, his mother recently broke her hip. My heart, my thoughts and my prayers go out to this family. When I see the loss and the struggles of others, I often wonder what I’m complaining about in my life.

And yet, there were two unexpected gifts during the memorial service for Stephen on Monday. First, the strength and apparent serenity displayed by his mother. Oh, I’m sure inside a storm was raging over the loss of this child she sheltered for 9 months in her womb, raised to be the fine gentlemen so many of us were blessed to know. But the joy on this woman’s face…it was easy to see that the eulogies given by both Father Ben and Father Elson were of great comfort to her. Again, I don’t know what was truly going on inside but, to be able to display such grace outwardly, when all of your world is crashing down around you, is a faith worth striving for.

And, yes, Father Elson. That was the other unexpected gift. If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know that Father Elson was transferred out of our parish back in November. I had been away from church for some weeks due to a conflict with my work schedule and came back with a shock to realize that Father Elson had left. I tried hard not to mind that Father Ben now stood on the altar. And, in truth, Father Ben is proving to be as much of a blessing as Father Elson. However, my heart broke just a little thinking I had never gotten the chance to say “Goodbye” to him and wish him well on his future endeavors. He gave so much to our parish, breathed so much life into it, that he will be forever missed. So it truly was a blessing to see him standing on the altar again, giving this eulogy. His first words were that he had loved Stephen. You could feel the warmth and gratitude such words meant to all of Stephen’s loved ones as it was apparent that he meant them. Though it was a sad occasion that brought him back to our parish for the day, it was good to see him, to talk with him and, yes, to wish him well as he journeys back to India today. Though he was just getting over the flu, his trademark smile still lit up the church and the altar. In finally saying, “Goodbye” in another way, I realized just how much I have grown to love this young man…as a friend, as a brother in Christ, as a priest and spiritual leader in our community. Father Elson is not the reserved and somewhat distant priest I remember from my childhood. He’s warm and welcoming and as down-to-earth as anyone could wish. Whatever parish that receives him in the future will be truly blessed, indeed. And I give thanks to our Father in Heaven for the many years we were graced with this man…and for the new chapter that is beginning with Father Ben. In all fairness, he seems cut from the same cloth.

May God bless you & keep you!

https://www.patreon.com/theherbalhare

Happy 40th, Shaun!

“There are ‘friends’ who pretend to be friends, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24)

I was an only child almost until my 12th birthday. I used to envy my friends, cousins, etc. who had siblings; romanticize my mother’s family of 11 kids and my maternal grandfather’s ginormous family of 18 kids (yes, 18!). I even went to high school with a brother and sister who were 2 of 19. And I thought that was awesome. But, by then, it was because I finally had a brother, who I thought was awesome, so multiplying the number would be even better. Surely, a bit of Americanization there where more, or bigger, is better. Perhaps having a little brother was really so awesome because he was the only one and we were able to form a more loving bond with each other without the extra competition for each other’s time. Needless to say, I oscillated between spoiling him one minute and losing patience trying to keep up with him when the parental units took full advantage of this built-in babysitter the next. My teenage self grumbled with the enforced responsibility; today I miss the friend my brother has always been sharing trips to the Quonset Air Show; visits to King Richard’s Faire and even the perpetual viewing of “A Christmas Story” every day in December and “Short Circuit” the rest of the year.

My brother, Shaun, has made a career in the United States Army so visits are few and far between. He and his wife, and my two nieces, currently live in Tennessee. We’ve missed so much of each other’s lives in recent years but I couldn’t be more proud of him. And I love him more each and every day.

And, yes, Shaun, if you’re reading my blog post this is a bit “mushy” for a “macho” soldier turning 40 years old today. But, always remember, I changed your diapers. And now it’s gone public.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!

I love you, “Little” brother (at more than a few inches over 6 feet, you’re not exactly “little” anymore…).

May God bless you & keep you!

Bass Ackwards

“I am confident in this, that the one who began a work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)

Despite working with computer and online technology for at least a couple of decades now, I still flub up every now and again. Part of it may be that whenever I go to a new site, new application, etc., I am more liable to just start following menu paths and clicking here and there as to read the actual instructions beforehand.

Such is the case with my new Patreon site. I was supposed to build suspense by posting little snippets of its launch on my social media sites, my blog, etc. Well, as I’ve given up social media for Lent, such a climatic approach would be nearly impossible anyway. So, I clicked the “Launch” button almost from the moment I first logged into the site. Needless to say, a quick visit, at this point, would be a little anticlimatic anyway; I haven’t downloaded much yet.

Bear with me; fiction, in the form of short stories, some poetry, some samples of business icons, etc. as well as paintings, drawings, knitted, hand-spun and hand-woven items will appear from time to time. Perhaps even some herbal products as time goes on. I’m still working it all out.

So, what is Patreon? “Patreon is a membership platform that makes it easy for creators to get paid.” We’re challenged to memorize that; I haven’t yet. It’s in a spiral-bound notebook for the moment. (Chuckle)

This menu path should bring you to my Patreon page if you’d like to check it out: https://www.patreon.com/theherbalhare

May God bless you & keep you!

PS If, for some reason, this doesn’t bring you to the site (may have to copy and paste in search engine), please post a comment below and I will check into it. Again, I’m still learning. Thank you for reading my blog…and for your patronage! =)