Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Welcome back to me, by me.

I have not written in weeks. And you can tell by the way this blank page is intimidating me. But the words, and their subtleties are vying to get out. So, I must persist.

Why I have not written is a mundane, yet lofty reason. Mundane because I was studying, and lofty, simply for the reason of being able to do something I can do, better. Not for any externally observable qualification. Yesterday was my first test, and it has been a fair score years since I had to write tests. Under the added stress of not knowing whether the Wi-Fi would hold up to be able to get, and submit, my test. But it did, and I am thankful for it.

And there I have my theme for today. Seeing at is Sunday, it would be appropriate to spend this time in the Church of Thankfulness.

There are a very many things for which I am not yet at an altitude of thankfulness yet. Impending tourism company COVID loan relief repayment being one of them.

But there are a very many things I can sit here and appreciate individually, and collectively, for the serenity (and scenery) it brings to my heart.

First, thank you Alanis Morissette.

Thank you for the Wi-Fi for yesterday. Note, yesterday, not today, because today it is off.

You see, as thankful as I am, I still have a rich vein of caustic sarcasm running through me.

Balance in life is what I call it, and it is another thing to be thankful for. After all, how can you appreciate the dawn, if you have not made it through the night.

The presumably patient sewing lessons of Mother. While the sometimes-tedious row upon row of sewing and finishing off seams take up time, the joy in handing two more babies their personalised octopi stuffed with well wishes from the heart, make it worth it.

Octopi in the making – if your favourite colour is yellow, and you are reading this, you should expect it in the post this week. You know who you are 😉

Ziggy made it. While my big boy Boerbok goat no longer comes crying for his weekly bottle of milk on a Sunday, meaning I do not see him often, he is a well-adjusted individual within a social network of happy goats.

My ~~peanuts~~. Ground nuts, sounds so much more authentic. They are now dried, and though take up lots of volume in the process, makes eating each individual nut all the more appreciative/appreciated. I would think now is an appropriate time to thank the heavens on behalf of the fieldmice too. (See – caustic vein and all that)

This fresh cup of good filter coffee.

The first of the day is always, always reason for thanksgiving. No caustic remarks for this one, unless you are on the wrong side of that first cup.

And the award goes to…. The farm. Even saying it, fills all the gaps between my atoms and negative/positive ions to the brim with a peace stuffed with cows (including No-No), Daisy & Valentino, Mable, Ganamede (the new young bull) and number 18 (the “experienced” borrow bull from the neighbour), with goats (Kruispad Cecil and his papers, ewe X, Cecil X and his fellow young gun rams who have been dispatched to green pastures with their own herds, the twins, the triplets and their always pregnant moms, with chickens (the gifted Hank, Mrs Hank, Hester and Hanna as well as the 20 well trained boy & girl chicks, the staff and their horses and horse carts and love for the animals and Agri produce, and now I need to stop before I mention the successful vegetables and related produce I have been marketing. For that, there is a separate page.