July mornings must be practicing and getting ready for August mornings. The past two mornings have been foggy ones. The fog burns off as the sun breaks through and in August we begin to keep a count of foggy mornings because the folk lore is, foggy mornings in August equal snowfalls in winter. It is an inexact science because some areas are foggier than others. A drive down the road tells that story, but it is beautiful as the fog lifts yet lingers on the tops of the mountains and gently lies in some of the valleys.
How did I celebrate a good eye exam? By going to the Mexican restaurant and having chalupas. It wasn't so much the food as the restaurant leans to the dark side, not evil, but lighting. With dilated eyes and a bright sunny day, the choice was easy. I was hoping to make one stop on the way home but even with sunglasses, the best decision was to come on home.
Yesterday, a friend showed me her time lapse photography of a Monarch butterfly breaking free of the chrysalis and through metamorphosis becomes a butterfly. After emerging the wings on the butterfly look to grow right before your very eyes. All this wonder happened in her very own garden and she has seen this process more than once as the spring and summer goes by. When I got home I Googled it up to learn more and it is fascinating reading.This week in our own garden the butterfly bushes and the pollinator plants we planted in the spring are full of butterflies. This week I saw my first two Monarch butterflies. In Houston, I don't think any caterpillars ever crossed my mind as being good. They were the enemy of our plants and must be eradicated sooner. Here, I do research on the bugs and the like before declaring war on them. I can say with confidence that fruit flies are my mortal enemy because they cause havoc in this bountiful season of produce stands.
Nathan and Andrew came yesterday to chop up the fallen portion of the maple tree. We also discussed the fall plans for the backyard. I loved seeing Nathan's face when he saw how good the flowers are doing in the side bed by the driveway. The black eyed Susans started out as three small plants last year and they have flourished and taken over a good portion of a corner in the flowerbed. The queen Anne lace has just about played out in that flowerbed but the ones right behind the porch are still blooming. I asked Nathan why the tree split from the bottom and his interesting answer is this, with all the rain we have had since last year, the established trees have taken in about all the water they can hold. July is typically a dry month here and so far we've had two major thunder showers along with a few moderate ones. The maple tree had taken in all it could hold and thus the split happened as it expanded from within, something had to go.
It dawned on me last night that both of these phenomenons of nature, of God's creation, have been taking place in this creation named Nancy. It does help to have married into the name, Monarch. There is transformation and a shedding off of things that can't and aren't maintained because of growth, internally and externally. With God's Word there is always transformation when we allow it to dwell and reside in and with us. I am looking at these changes through the eyes of moving and decorating our home here. Many things that I thought were important to the house when we first moved have found other homes. I thought every bedroom should have a desk in it because I thought people will want to look at this view and write...no, that's just me, not many guests. Desks have been moved and given away. As a comparison my brother's taste runs mid century modern which is a sleek and minimal look. My taste runs in, cram as much into the room that it can take....it might be a short duration or it might be a long period of time but eventually, room contents begin to thin out. I think that is what's happening now internally and externally in me. Over the course of my life I have crammed this and that into my heart and spirit and have kept all this stuffing compartmentalized fairly successfully. But some of this has to go.... Living a much simpler life with more fun distractions is making the disposal or re-purposing easier of the junk I needed to live life in Houston. So much of what mattered there isn't even a blip on the screen here. Likewise, things that matter here might not make a dent on the top ten list of things needed to live in Houston.
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Once again the forecast is for rain this afternoon. We received a little shower but nothing measurable in the rain gauge. Semi tough night with Buddy but better than other nights. She has stopped sleeping in our bed which in one way is kind of sad and yet, it is freeing. She hangs tight in the winter to keep her little paws warm but there must too much warmth in the summer.
Yesterday afternoon I spent a good amount of time reading a Blue Ridge Parkway book, things to see, things you might miss and how to schedule out time. They offered advice on a 14 day trip beginning in Washington DC to long weekends or just a day trip here and there. The book even takes you beyond the parkway and into the Smoky Mountain National Park and into Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge.
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Fri-Yay, Thursday got away from me and I never got back to the post. I also had to let this set for a couple of days and let good sense overrule hurt feelings. I took out the portion of this post telling about a phone conversation and the resulting hurt, then anger and then finally some calm. As a rule anything that has a spontaneous burst of hurt and anger is transference from hurts long ago and rears its head unexpectedly. I have the choice to respond or react. This time I reacted and my impertinent response made some work for me. I have to think that this friend's digs at things that are important to me here or about a change in me due to living here has to come from a wish that I was still a running buddy in Houston. Knowing that the aftereffect of digs or bullying me to do what they want will be a bit of distance in my future emotions and response to them, I try not to take the Roy approach and just be done and move on. The transference happens from being told in childhood that things I loved, writing and creating, were things I was not good at and would NEVER be good in doing. I believed those lies for too long. So sometimes when I least expect it, after hearing what I consider to be a dig, I react but love those times when I respond, being in control. Hopefully the next time will be response.
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