Turns out I am a cold blooded, vicious killer......

The first week of being 50 has high-lighted an odd but notable new awareness of my ruthless side.  Of course I've got one, at least one.  Some need to be curbed and some need to be encouraged.  One, though, has been honed to an actual skill.  That's right, I said it.  

Life has a way of wearing you down.  It smoothes the edges of your nerves, especially if you are a mother, or spend much time with adults who are *not* adults.  Life numbs you to many things in life that by the time you are 50, you don't even think twice about anymore.  

"Oh, sweetie!  It's okay if you missed the potty!  I will just clean that right up.  It happens to all of us.  You still did good"............"Oh, you 'forgot' your homework for the 4th time this week and want me to just run home and bring it to you?  All right, but this is the last time!"..............."You punched another hole in the wall?????!!!!!  Well.  You know how to fix it."............."Yes, that is a dent in my fender.  Fix it?  Why????"...........

I am seriously telling you to take heart.  By the time you get to 50, I am promising you that you will take all of the above examples, and countless others, with a grain of salt but no second thoughts.  It's very relaxing.

But some things you will not become numb to.  Some things will make you dig in your heels, stiffen your spine, grab a weapon and literally kill things.  Living things.  You will fight to the end, some things, and you will still lose, but you will. not. care.  The battle simply must be fought.

The flies are thick, and I realized the other day that I have turned into a cold blooded, vicious killer.

I always thought I could be one but now I know for sure that I not only *can*.  I *am*.

Like a professional cold blooded, vicious killer, I go on killing "patrols".  At least 3 every day.  Morning, noon, and night, I grab the fly swatter and stalk my prey down like the maggots they are.  I stalk sunny places like window sills and splashes of sunlight on floors.  One by one I kill them.  I swear, some of them come back to life.  I can remember a time when if there was a fly in the house it was just one or two, and I would grab a tissue to clean up their dead bodies and deposit them in the trash.  Then I would go on with my life and think of such nastiness no more.  THOSE DAYS ARE BEHIND ME NOW.  I did not watch the clock or go on "killing patrols".  Now I do.  I guess that's part of being old, or grown up, or something.  I am just reporting the facts here, I still do not know any secrets of the universe.

I don't know if it's the cows or the beautiful but stinking tree next to the house that showered us recently with so many lovely petals, but the flies are everywhere, all the time.

Lately all I have grabbed is the fly swatter, no tissues, delivering death blows, like a professional cold blooded, vicious killer; without remorse.   Then--(and this is probably the point of admitting you need help, for any cold blooded vicious killer, not that I need any help)---just letting their bodies lay where they fall. 

 I give them no respect.  I think no more of their dead bodies than dust in the wind.  Their dead bodies are nothing to me.  NOTHING.  I have a machine to suck up the carnage and I know how to use it.  I am the proud owner of a shop vac also.  I got this. Just the last part of the job for a cold blooded vicious killer like myself.

***throws back head, throws arms to the sky, and laughs like James Earl Jones*** 

Like any professional, cold blooded, vicious killer,  later there will be a cleanup patrol, destroying all evidence. 

Like a professional, cold blooded, vicious killer, after I have chased down and killed all my prey, delivering death blows right and left, I just grab the vacuum and suck them up.  There are quite a lot, and, horror of horrors(!), some are not completely dead.  You can tell when they sense the snout of the great vacuum-to-the-sky getting close.  They twitch, their disgusting little legs move.  I sneer at the quivering little blobs.  Perhaps I just stunned them, or broke a wing or something.  The little vermin still live.  So I SMASH them once more, really good.  Their guts smoosh all out and leave disgusting marks on my refrigerator and all I feel is powerful and happy that I have bleach.  

And I am a cold blooded, vicious killer.  Life has turned me that way.  I have no remorse.  I even take pride in my work.  Knowing that this job will not end any time soon does not discourage me.  It's just what I do.

Just one more facet to 50.  Thought you should know.

**also my cousin says that I can go to the feed store and get an automatic fly killer spray thing that automatically squirts like those automatic kind and I will not see a live fly again in my house.  Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it?  I am going to explore this possibility.  You may want to explore that possibility yourself, before you end up a cold blooded, vicious killer like myself.  But that may be a required standard that you have to pass before you die.  I feel better for it, at any rate.   Just sayin.

Reflections on 50.........

I think back on the last year and all the changes it has brought.  We moved, new jobs, new friends, new vehicles.

The boys have 1 more year of high school, prom is coming up, they have become mechanics, or at least serious apprentices, and they walk more like men than boys now.

I am a grandmother for real now.

Children are such handy gauges for us to measure life with, and I have recently found myself in long conversations with all of my children, (both real and acquired) that started with "Remember when......." and went on and on.

I used to feel I was drowning in children when my house was full of them and they spilled over into the yard and trailed up the street.

Life comes in waves, and eventually you realize you are the beach.

This beach is watching another wave on the horizon, there are more children in it, among other things that I cannot make out for certain, but I can't wait for those days of love, simplicity and noise to pound on me again.  The things they say, the things they remember, the things they will not listen to and have to learn anyway.

I think this last year has been a time for me to heal in ways I did not know that I needed to.  Life has slowed down and I have had time to be present in the last years that I will have "children" at home.

During this time my older children have become fully grown adults, and are now able to marvel that "19 years ago......." and fill in the blank with what seems like just a few months ago.

I can't tell you how great this has been, to be present as they got to this place!

This tree, next to my new house, is I believe a grandfather to the nicely shaped but sickeningly scented Bradford Pears that are everywhere now.  It doesn't have the pretty shape, and I think has much deeper roots, but the blooms are the same.  The berries in the fall are different.  We have been wondering what kind of tree it is and almost cut it down.

It has taken us this long to figure it out.

It has been glorious to look at and horrible to smell the past few weeks.

Flies buzz like crazy in this tree during blooming.

It's kind of scary when you sit and listen to them.

I didn't know why we let it live until last week.

She's old.  She still looks great but smells terrible.  But that's the way nature designed her.

Last week, with all the rain and wind, she started losing her petals.

Everywhere we went, we had petals blowing around, landing on us like confetti.

Everywhere we turned, our paths were strewn with petals.

I felt kind of like a bride, but knowing all the things brides still have yet to know, and I laughed out loud.

The petals did not smell bad, just looked pretty.

And I thought it a charming addition, despite the buzzing of the flies.

That is how charming I found it.

And I thought that I was definitely following a path, even if I did not know where it would lead, and that it was good and right.

We have been confetti'd, every way we turn.

It's made for a magical time.  One day it's cold and rainy, we can hear the rain beating down on the roof as we watch the fire.

White stuff in your hair?  NOT dandruff!!  Look closely and you will see petals in the air.

The next day it's warm and sunny, you open the door to go out and white petals are cascading down and blowing around in little eddies on the wind.  They land in your hair, brush against your eyelids, sit on your shoulders, get stuck in your hair, and have lined the path you are about to embark on.

No matter which way you go.

It occurs to me that which path you take matters naught; it is the going that matters.

I have the strong feeling all paths lead to the same place in the end.

More leaves than petals this week.

That tree is going to live.

As must I.

Not to mention an entire new generation of little girls (so far) that have need of magical petal floating in the air and lining their paths. No matter which one they take.

I think I may have been appointed as one of the ladies that points these things out, and sets up tea parties on the lawn.

With umbrellas, and matching rubber rain boots.

This lady may have gray hair, and a long braid.  

This is about all that I need to decide on in the near future.

A slightly better shot of the floating petals.

Everywhere you go, everything has been festooned with petals.

The bulbs are blooming gloriously.

I need to decide what to put in that hanging, petaled, pot.

But not today.  There is no hurry.

White has been added to all the colors, in polka dot shapes

I think it is healing all of us to be here.  We have different family closer, now, and can just run into them, which we are getting used to.

And while we have been very busy, we haven't been tied to rigid schedules.

This has allowed room for trying new things without the stress of whether these things will work out or not.

In a fit of hopefullness, I threw an onion and some garlic that had sprouted in my refrigerator in pots this week and set them outside.

Well, hello onions!

And just look what happened!

I didn't even try.

Sometimes things just work out.

No one knows why, they just do.

Tulips on deck!

The tulips are getting dressed for the show they will put on very soon, and just like at the other house, I have a white lilac in front and a purple lilac in back.  This may sound crazy to you, but those were 2 of the things I loved most about that house, and the symmetry here is comforting and feels right to me.
One more day of sunshine and BAM!  We are going to have lilacs!!
I had to give up a lot, but none the most important things to me have been lost.  What I have gotten in return is so vital and precious to me that I cannot not put it into words and pictures do not do it justice.

The other morning was so nice I just had to run down the road and be by the water.  Water runs freely though out the land of Lindy and white feathers, cascading, trickling, sometimes roaring, but always, always present and moving, the sun shining off the smallest of ripples.  The flowers were blooming, the grass was so green, and there just comes a certain day, I remember from when I was small, that you are compelled to get out and "smell the creek".

"He maketh me lie down in green pastures..........

It's not an elegant phrase, but it's the bottom line way I thought of it as a child, at my most basic and honest self.
In those days, part of almost every day was spent at a creek.  With rock bottoms, endless jewels to be discovered and sorted.  Tadpoles to be watched and sometimes caught.  Crawdad's to have sword fights with once you discovered their hole.  Small fish nibbling on your toes, turtles sunning themselves in the heat of the sun, and the only lotion slathered on us was sun "tan", not sun "block".

He leadeth me beside the still waters......

You see it, you hear it, you feel it, you smell it.
It surrounds you, in every way, and everywhere you look, everything is just right with the world.
There's no other way to put it.  There are no clocks here, the sun and the moon keep the time.
Time goes slowly, and you breathe easy.

I have spent years of my life sitting on a beach just like this.  I am so blessed.

As I turn 50, I find myself recognizing that most basic and honest self more and more often.

It's been a long time since I have seen her.

The person I was long before I became an adult or parent.  My hair is back to what it was before I spent countless hours and dollars to make it look like something it, in fact, was not.

The things that are most important to me cannot be bought with money.

Words get in the way of instinctive understanding.  Can you remember a time when  your thoughts were not formed in words in your head, let alone complete sentences?

He restoreth my soul........

If you can't, you should go back to the places where you were very young.

Or maybe you have to get to be a certain age before you will remember that part.

Life asks a lot of us, at different times, and in different ways.

But it's always in flux, whether you realize it or not.

Eventually, your children grow and have lives of their own.

You love them more than ever, and they bring you joy in ways you never expected.

But now you get your solitude back. Time to dream, time to consider, time to plan, again.

Time to think, or work, or just "be", without interruption or distraction.

I think this is part of the design.

Sunlight on just one branch of a huge and beautiful bush.  See what I did there??

Life is always taken one day at a time, whatever phase we are in.

But I have reached the age where I watch calmly for what comes next and take it in stride.

Gone are the days where I ran around, anxious to please, fearful of disapproval, worried about how it would all turn out.

Been there, done that.  It's over.  It was fun but it's over.

The next phase of my life will be much calmer and more joyful.

Whatever it is.  I'm going to just appreciate whatever it is.

It's a surprise!

I'm just going to enjoy every day and watch it all unfold, like the grass and the bulbs and the babies.

Everything has it's own path, design, and journey.

I already know it will turn out.

It always does.

Days Like This..........

We have been blessed with some rainy, stormy days lately.  I love rain.  I also love storms.  My 50th birthday is looming on the horizon, and I have been watching baby calves come along in impressive numbers, flowers bursting forth, and petals showering down all around me.

Forsythia through a rainy window in March, 2015.  Pregnant cow in background.

One day you get up, and it's rainy and chilly. 

The next day you get up, and it's foggy but the sun is coming out.

The next day it's beautiful and 80.

After that the wind blows everything like crazy and all the leaves you thought you had raked up are right back where I guess they must belong.

I leave that to God, largely.  There is just so many things that I can handle on my own. 

Leaves do not make the list.

I am not even sorry.

This is a picture that didn't turn out very well, but the sun was coming up and the cow's breath was making misty clouds that I could see much better than I got in this picture.

I took the picture just to jog my memory. 

Sadly, you, my friends, will have to imagine it.

I guess maybe you had to be there.

Then the sun came up and I went ahead and looked right into it.
After all, I am 50 now.  Well, almost.
I can do what I want.
I told myself the camera was a filter.
I probably could even have used some kind of different setting.  Perhaps this is the year I will learn about that.
Perhaps not.
We will just have to wait and see!
It'll be a surprise.

Go ahead and look, kid.

It was the week before my birthday, I was just feeling great.

We were headed over to my brother's for the day to cook out and work on the yard.

The boys were driving their own truck with both dogs loaded up, thrilled for a ride, and it was a beautiful day.

I just felt so very blessed, I had no idea why.

The fact that my dad was calling wondering why I wasn't in church and my new-found neighbor/aunt I never had was texting me asking the same thing began to give me clues, though.

My flock.  I would be lost without them.

Unbeknownst to me, my church family had planned a surprise birthday party for me, complete with dead flowers and everyone dressed in black.

It was a God wink to me to find this church.  The pastor's name was Rob Wood.  Those of you from Browning, Mo will recognize this name, carried by one, and carried still by another, unforgettable people.

How could I miss another Rob Wood?

That would be crazy and I can't even go into explaining why.

Those who know, just know.  ;)  It's a Browning thing.

But I digress.

This church, led by Rob Wood, is so laid-back and comfortable, it's more like successful group therapy than church.

I mean that in the best way possible.

If you feel the need to throw something in, well, you just do.

Rob said someone once asked him about what "program" he used to get the congregation to interact with each other, and he just laughed.

It's a family.  You would just have to come and see for yourself.

Highway O. Newton Co, Mo.  Wanda is the name of what used to be the town.  You can't miss it.  Just come see and tell me I'm wrong.

Heck, I dare ya.

Anyway......

Yes, I missed my own surprise party.

That was really disappointing.

And embarrassing.

But since it's not my fault, because I didn't know, we went on with our day.

I would later come home to find these thoughtfully wrapped bouquets on my front porch, where I had just sat feeling so blessed that morning and not knowing why.

Look at the care they took with the ribbons!  :D

But that would all be discovered later.

At this point we were headed to my brother's place with the dogs proudly tasting the wind all the way over.

Once there, I dropped the potato casserole into my sister-in-law's arms and headed straight to the bathroom, where I was proud to have made it without peeing my own pants.

Because, hey, I am almost 50 now.

Comes with the territory. Prepare yourselves now.  I speak the truth!

Within a minute and half I can hear the sounds of a dog fight in the front yard.

My heart is pounding, but what can I do?

Because I am almost 50 now, absolutely nothing but sit there and wait for my poor old bladder to be done and hoping fervently that our next stop is not an emergency room or the digging of a grave for a beloved dog.

Maybe two!!

When I finally get out, I rush to join my sister-in-law at the front door.

We observe my own Shadow and her sweet Patch at each other's throats, with Jack frantically barking.  Jack seems a little unhinged.

Apparently when my dogs came into Patch's yard, he was all like "OH NO YOU DIDN'T"

and Shadow was all like "THESE ARE YOUR MANNERS?  YOU DIRTY CUR! DON'T YOU KNOW I'M THE QUEEN??!"

And Jack was just like "YIKES! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? PLEASE STOP THIS MADNESS! I WANT MY MOM! "

Both my boys had one of our dogs each, my brother had Patch, all the men were straining to hold a dog back and all the dogs were barking and making noises like they were, in fact, killing each other.

At least, that's how it looked to us from the safety of the doorway.

Suddenly, at some signal, my youngest baby just picks Shadow, bodily, up, and she just lets him.

She does not bite off his head, or claw his face into shreds, or scalp him, or anything.

She just lets him pick her up, possibly because she is the queen, and he calmly walks back to the truck and deposits her, where she stays.

It was like a miracle.

My oldest baby follows suit with Jack.

Once again I am so thankful and happy for my brother.

He can fix anything.  He really can.

His presence around my boys, and I believe their presence around him, is a blessing that just keeps giving.

In the most unexpected and surprising ways.

So, it is decided that I will take our dogs back home.

Thank God I peed.

So into the back of the amazing HHR go the dogs.

Shadow is tired.  Jack is staying as close to his Mama as possible.

Shadow seemed a little confused and a lot tired, but still regal.  She made herself comfortable and had nothing to say whatsoever.

Queens do not concern themselves with the opinions of peasants.

At least not once they are safe on a feather bed in the back of their mom's car.

Jack stayed as close as he could get to me the entire way home.  He was a little amazed to find that Shadow let him have the middle.

This is why the "princess" syndrome is a bad idea, people.

Shadow is not, in fact, the queen of the world.

She was very disappointed to find this out but I think she got a good picture of what can happen in the real world.

Live and learn, Shadow.  Live and learn.

I am very happy to have your company in this endless journey of lessons learned the hard way.

Jack has my six.  Or something.  If you have never traveled with a dog sniffing the air behind your head, I feel sorry for you.

So I delivered the dogs back home, told them they were the best dogs in the world, and treated them to a big bowl of leftover stew.  Why not?  Nobody even got hurt.  

I took it all in stride, as 50 year old's do.  We've seen it all before.

  I sang a few bars of  Days Like This, and I gloried in being flexible.

Oh, and on my way back to my brother's for the second time, I saw this little mister, who had recently joined us.

His eyelashes are about 4 inches long and I do believe he batted them at me a couple of times.

I could have snuggled up with him and just lay in the sun the rest of the day, to be honest.

Is he not adorable?

Back I went, over the rivers and through the woods, to my brother's house.  We had a great meal and did a lot of yard work, and laughed about dogs and territories and life in general.

My sister in law confessed she was in heaven.

So was I.

All around us our boys were working.

We went over all her flower and vegetable beds, I got some honeysuckle starts, and many, many leaves were destroyed.

Don't get excited, these are pin oaks we are dealing with, and many 

leaves also remain.

But we do love to burn.

It's how God made us. *shrugs*

Meanwhile, all the bulbs I had been waiting for.....

Early blooms but many more coming.......

Really got to going!  Blooms were bursting forth!  Music was playing!  (Ok, that was just in my head.  I think....)

Every day there are more!

A fairie's view from inside the flower basket.

Within a few days, that flower basket looked full and overflowing.

Purples, pinks, yellows.

Hyacinths, Pansies, Jonquils, Muscari.......

Tulips are on deck.

I still haven't removed the leaves.  We still have some frosty mornings ahead.

So, the crazy day came to an end.

What a day it had been!

I even made it home with a few barrels my brother cut in two for me.

I think I will put vegetables in them on the South side of the house.

I thought, that morning, about the last six months of our lives.

I thought, if someone would have told me last year that all this would happen.........what would I have thought?

I thought about fireplaces, and the twins getting snowed in at my brother's, and having my nephew in our home.

I thought about the night I had to cut him off of pop and hilariously heard "I'm All Out Of Love" blaring from the boys' room.

It had somehow found it's way into a show they thought was "cool" and later that night my nephew complained about it being stuck in his head.

I told him he now knew what it was to have survived the 80's.

Don't believe me?  Just click on the link I thoughtfully included for your listening pleasure.  Ah cha cha.  You are welcome!

I thought about what the next 6 months may hold for us.......

The twins will graduate next year.

I am going to Germany with my brother's family for 3 weeks.

The last year has brought a lot of change, almost all good.

I thought about the people I was so sorry to leave on a daily basis, but how I was so glad not to have that job anymore.

I thought about this crazy, mixed up day, and all that had happened.

Whether I was there or not.

This was just one day.

I thought about how my family would function without me, and how life has a rhythm that goes on with or without us, and what a comfort that is as I get older.

How much I love watching the seasons change and how much better life is when you put those things in your mind

and just let that be your world.

Let the flowers bloom, the babies come, the children grow, and the dogs grow old with me.

I can't wait to see what comes next.

50 is looking awfully good to me.

But the best part?

The best part is that I do get to be here.

My present to myself this year is to be more present in the moments I am here, and to worry less about what comes tomorrow.

Because what comes to tomorrow is still going to come.

Whatever it may be.

My grandmother's would have said this as "No need to borrow trouble."

They would have been right, and I love getting to be the age where I can offer sage advice, knowing it's true whether anyone believes me or not.

There will come a moment, someday, when they will remember what I said and know.

They will just know.  That I was right.  That I knew what was coming, even when they did not, and that I rested sure in their abilities to handle it.  

How much I loved them.  How you can dance in the rain, enjoy the storms, live to see the next day, and live that by the seat of your pants, too.

Life will go on.

With or without me.

Now get out there and dance.  Greet a newborn creature.  Watch the seeds  you have planted bloom.

Make a cup of tea when you hear that thunder and get out to the porch to watch the storm.

You might be surprised how much you enjoy it.