Prairie Fog
The biggest sky on Earth is open water. You need to leave the curves of Earth to find a bigger sky than a quiet ocean. Prairies and deserts are fighting for second place in the Earthly Big Sky Contest. My current perch on the southern tip of the North American Great Plains is atop one of the higher hills which roll the plains into the surrounding ecosystems. The air on this hill carries far more dry breezes than humid ones. Fog and morning dews arenae rare here, but they be far from daily occurances. This morning it was a shock to my senses to wake in a literal fog so thick that I could barely see the windmill frame some 100 or so feet from the kitchen window. The first of the workers arriving for day 2 of installing the doors and windows surprised me when his black and gray truck rolled out of the fog bank at the top of the long slope of the driveway.
YS and I were already heart deep into the GK dilemma when that truck rolled out of the fog bank. No new crisis. My son often pulls all-nighters on his web design. It's much easier to stay focused without the day-time interruptions of a young family. Our web design talks segway naturally to, "How's the family?"
At present, the other grandparents are struggling a bit with the pressure of taking care of both GKs in their cramped, 4 adult, 3 bedroom duplex apartment. GS is still enrolled in the same kindergarten class and all are agreed, so far, that keeping that as stable as possible is a good idea. The current notion is for GD to spend some time here so the other grandparents can focus on GS and his school. The original plan for that was that I would do a six hour taxi run to pick up GD while her big brother was in school. The longer I chewed on this plan, the more vicious my flashbacks became. The insecurity of continually returning home from school to find the foundation of my life had shifted while I was busy being a good girl at school is with me still. It sits on my heart like a family tradition worth breaking.
The revised plan is for me to break up that six hour taxi drive with a day or two of grand time at the urban homestead with the goal of delivering GS back to the other grandparents Sunday night. Is it too much to hope that happy farewells between the siblings could be a by-product of the revised goal. GS might be waving a happy farewell to Daddy, as well. YS is talking about coming up here as a single father, as well.
Sorting. . . Small steps, big faith and lots of prayer.
Replies
Gentle hug sweetie..... First I have to say how cool it would be to have a windmill that you can see and have outside of your home..... That's great
I hope that they do a good job on the doors
I am so sorry to read about the strain that your grandchildren are going through..... They are with family and they know they are loved
I am also sorry to read that you're going through terrible flashbacks sweetie.... I can't imagine how horrible that would be.... Another hug.... I would try and be cognisant of the fact that they will be destabilized for sure however they won't go through anything like you did.... They are with family who adore them
You and your family remain in my prayers......xo
Hugs, love & support, Arfie.
My favorite memories of mornings where I felt peace and serenity always were of hills cover thickly with trees boxing in drowsy farms and villages that every morning were draped in a fluff quilt of fog regardless of time of year. From Europe to the US, I have always felt most at home if I live in areas that get thick blankets of fog. But that’s me.
Hugs & love!
I am on the verge of accepting my flashbacks as a gift in need of training. Are these flashbacks here to punish me in doing on to others better than was done onto me? Dunno. . . For sure they hurt less when I don't fight them. The sooner begun, the sooner done. Or so I pray. Just praying. . . . Back up prayers appreciated.
The morning dews and fogs are among the draws of river valleys in my wandering ways. A mountain river valley is nothing short of awe-inspiring. The Andes Mountains still lead my personal pack on that score. Is that a cloud or a fog bank? Quien cuida? Just roll with ^it^.
But every inch of our great globe seems to have a wonder to behold. Here beneath this big, drier prairie sky, this morning's fog was a pleasant surprise. Well. . . The literal fog was a pleasant surprise. Still sorting the metaphorical fog. Put the yaddah to the blah and the blah to the yaddah. It's a thing I do just because I gotta. Onward through the fog. . .
peace to you arfie. xx
Triple hugs and backup prayers ~