First: I did an OOOOPPPs! I was playing around with the template and hit the wrong button. Now I can't find my old one to get back to. So I had to go back and try to clean up the mess. I'm not thrilled with this look, but am stuck with it for now. At least they let me have some say in some of the colors. I don't particularly like their version of green for the background, but it seemed the best of the options for the color of grass which I guess it's depicting.
The previous owners planted them in an odd spot---the right-away between ours and our neighbor's properties for the Township to get to the Greenbelt that surrounds Pleasant Run Farms subdivision. They stood out there-- lonely sentinels against what, I don't know.
After much deliberation, we decided to move them close to the deck. My husband built an elaborate set-up of bird feeders that hung down over the bushes. If those feeders were still up, they would be literally nestled in the branches.
When I moved back up to our home town, the bird feeders were dismantled. The birds and I kept daily company for the year I was laid off work and lived back in Cinci with my husband, helping him deal with the impending death of a man who was more like a twin brother than just a best friend.
I would take trips 5 hours back over here to spend time with my dad. That was the year of Dad's and my trips together and of his 'Bucket List'. When I was off on one of these journeys, M. would tend the birds, but they were ultimately my responsibility.
I spent 10 days back in Cinci recently. I saw my fibromyaligist specialist and the best dentist I've ever had. I finished my second course for my license renewal.
Then I tackled the most important reason I was there---packing up my Grandma's antique glass dishes, my mother's goblets, and my china as well as pictures and all the cow knick knacks (more on those another time).
Mother's china closet is being given to Good Will--another story. It needs to go soon as the walls need painted and the less furniture, the better. Tough job to do--packing up the dishes. Mom did it last time; she's been gone 11 years. I hope 'I did her proud' in packing up this precious heritage. [There's enough bubble wrap in those boxes to start a company!]
I took pictures. I marveled at how tall the Roses of Sharon have gotten. I decided to get close and personal with the camera.
Now as I look at the pictures, I hope that this is the last summer of seeing those particular bushes bloom. I feel so deeply that it's time to move on. I'm more lead by my spiritual side---my faith in my God.
My husband relies more on common sense and practicality, such as: He makes much more money in the city and that money will ease our old age some day, so perhaps he should stay and earn more. His company has asked him twice in three months--the last time was last week---to please reconsider and stay another year. He's told them no both times.
This past weekend, I decided it was time to tell him just how I felt about that proposition. "If you don't move up, I think it's quite possible that will be my breaking point. It's been 7 years. That's enough for me. Since I can't move back as I've wanted to because of the insurance issues, you need to come home." He took me quite seriously.
( I have a great teaching position in the place where we feel our best. In the city, at my age, it would only be by a miracle that I got a job in a good school district where constant prayer or a concealed weapon license would not be necessary to keep me safe. My school benefits are vital as his company has made it plain that they will phase out not only his job, but the entire department. They've made it clear they WILL discard him eventually.)
So I look upon these bushes with mixed emotions. This home and these neighbors have been wonderful, but God did not shut a door up here nor did He open another one down there (for me). I'm in the job where I'm supposed to be. God is opening doors up here for my husband who now has to decide which one and when he will walk through.
On a whimsical note:
Do you ever wonder what a flower would say if it could talk, like in those animated movies?
Looking at this picture, I feel like this flower is bending down looking at its shadow
"Wow, what's that? Who are you? Are you me? How did I get there, when I'm here?!"
Now I look at my shadow and say,
"Come along now, it's time to move on. There's light in another place ready to shine on us."
On yet another note:
I like these two photos also. I was peering down through the bushes wondering what was down there hidden in the crevices of dirt, branches, and fallen leaves---- just as I wonder what the future holds for my husband and me in this new journey of ours.
To everything there is a season, and a time for every matter or purpose under heaven.
And the Lord, He it is that doth go before thee; He will be with thee, He will not fail thee,
neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed.
From my mother's Bible, much marked in--the Authorized King James Version