quiet days

This day hasn’t been at all the way I thought it would be.  I was supposed to take Nettie for a doctor’s appointment and then for blood work.  Monday is always laundry day, and there was a bed to wash and remake, lots of family laundry from the week and then the weekend at Church Camp, and stuff was still sitting around from where I had dropped it when I got in from Denton.  We had some company last evening, and I had gone to bed without unloading and reloading the dishwasher.  Cups and glasses and plates and bowls and containers of all sorts sat around on the cupboards.  It was a mess.

I dragged myself out of bed this morning.  My alarm had gone off around 5:15 and I luxuriated in the comfort of my smooth sheets and quilt before realizing that time was fast slipping away.  I gathered my stuff and came on downstairs to where Certain Man already had his cup of tea and was snoozing away on his recliner.  I shuffled around, feeling like a sloth, and changed the first load of laundry into the dryer, read my Bible, and finally got Cecilia up and on the potty while I made the bed and laid out her clothes.  Everything felt like a monumental effort.  I showered Cecilia and by then, Nettie was up and at’em.  Finally, Cecilia was dressed and at the breakfast table.

Then Certain Man came flying in from the chicken house, muttering about cross augers that weren’t working and tossing back over his shoulder, “Can you make me a sammich or something that I can eat on the way?  I’m outta’ time!”

So I pulled out my trusty iron skillet, made a scrambled egg and cheese sandwich and poured a tall glass of orange juice.  When he kissed me good-bye, he stopped abruptly.  “You don’t feel good, do you?” he asked, concern clouding his eyes.  That made me want to cry for sure, unfortunately. 

“No, I don’t,” I said, feeling suddenly worse.

“What do you have to do today?”  He asked.

“Well, I need to take Nettie to Dr. Coveleski’s by 8:30, then she needs blood work.  I have laundry, and this house needs my attention.  I’m just so tired and my tummy feels a little bit upset . . .  I’ll be alright.”

He was running really late, so he left then, and I began to think how I could simplify this day.  As soon as the doctor’s office was open, I called to see if I could reschedule Nettie’s appointment.  They acted happy to do that, and didn’t charge her any late cancellation fee.  Her blood work could safely wait a few more days and when her bus came, she happily got on and went to First State Senior Center.  Cecilia had left 45 minutes earlier, so I was finally alone.  I changed a washer again and climbed into my La-Z-Girl recliner and went fast asleep.  I dreamed strange and troubling dreams about shopping at Amish stores and having to go to the bathroom and not being able to climb the stairs out of the basements at Amish houses to get to the bathrooms.  It was incredibly frustrating.  Finally, I got awake and realized that I did, indeed, have to visit the restroom, so I got up, flew to the bathroom, then changed the washer again, folded and hung up the finished dryer load and got back on my chair.

I kept replaying the day before in my mind, thinking about my kids and wondering why I didn’t have more patience?  Why hadn’t I been more cheerful?  Why hadn’t I engaged them more in conversation individually?  Why hadn’t I planned more carefully?.  I had this lingering sad feeling and I just felt draggy and thick and colorless.  And my kitchen wasn’t cleaning itself, either, from the looks of things!

Then Friend Emma called and said that she was coming over.  I looked at this despicable house, and decided that I should at least work on my kitchen while we chatted.  I was still padding about in my house coat and  I decided that I was just going to stay that way.  If I didn’t have to go out, I was going to be comfortable.

While Emma was here with her sympathetic ear and loyal friendship, I stopped feeling quite so sad.  I made some headway on the kitchen, and kept after the laundry.  I stayed in my housecoat, though and just did what had to be done.  Before Emma headed out, she went upstairs with me and helped me to make up the bed, from the mattress up, and things always go better when there are two hands making beds!

And now, It’s evening.  The laundry is almost done, OGN and Cecilia had left over Chicken Corn Noodle soup for supper, things are settling down in the household.  I am still in my housecoat, still extremely sleepy, but I feel so thankful for this glorious, stay at home day.  I baked a butternut squash this afternoon, and methinks I just might make some pie.  It’s the season for pie.  Certain Man came in from the chilly outside and made a fire in the pellet stove and it is steadily burning.  

I’m so grateful for hearth and home.  For quiet days and Autumn scents.  For God’s mercy to me when I’m so undeserving and for the forgiveness of the people who love me.

T’is the season of Grateful Praise.  He is worthy.


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4 responses to “quiet days

  1. I felt tired and sick just reading this. (I was only feeling tired before, but it is almost 10 pm, and I’m going to bed soom. I cut a butternut squash in half today, baked the larger half with butter, cinammon and maple syrup. The rest I boiled with an apple. Not sure what I will do with that yet.

  2. I’m sure you did yourself the best favor today by just staying home and getting extra rest. But your honesty, which is so descriptive of how I feel some mornings, had me giggling. “I shuffled around, feeling like a sloth…”. Just cracked me up!

  3. I loved your line, “I had this lingering sad feeling and I just felt draggy and thick and colorless.” I feel that way sometimes, and it was just so nice to read that someone else has that sometimes.  And I loved that the Lord sent a friend your way.  And, as musicaljean said, you probably did yourself a good thing by staying home and resting.  God bless your day, Mary Ann. 

  4. Hope you are feeling better and perkier tomorrow!

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