CRACKER BARREL!

Is the place to go when you need blackberry cobbler and to do your schoolwork while your friend reads. Some silly program I need to do an assignment will not work from the house. I think maybe the connection hiccups and then the program fails. So Julie reads and I type and wish I was able to be somewhere that was home and relax. Blackberry cobbler, continuous supply of coffee and watching it rain makes this work for now.

fall down, get up again, fall down, do it again...

I can't stop. I'm used to not stopping even when it feels like I can't go on, but it gets a little tiring. It has always been difficult to keep going, but now it feels improbable at times. I can make it work though. Improbable is not impossible.

Boo Bear has been reading books based on greek/roman mythology lately. He announced I was the goddess of the improbable. (I am wondering when he learned the word improbable.) I can get up again. I can do the improbable. With Someone's help, I can do the impossible. (There should totally be an eleventh commandment... Thou shalt not limit God!)

I keep going. I can't stop. Life goes on and I go with it and things get better and worse and sometimes they seem too bad to handle and sometimes they seem too good to believe, but life goes on.

So about the hole... and the coffee...

My son, he gets this idea in his head to add a 'wetland habitat' to our property. Nevermind the lovely creek we have in the very back. Well, he starts digging this hole, and I catch him at it.

After some minor negotiations, it is agreed he can dig a hole, but not where he is currently digging it. I show him where I would actually like to put a pond and he proceeds, with his sister's help, to install said pond. Not bad work instigating and seeing a project through for a nine year old.

I did NOT specify the old hole needed to be filled in. So yesterday, I am dressed for work and I have a coffee mug in hand, I head out to the back yard to inspect the grapevine before leaving for work to make sure we did not miss any grapes when we picked them. My right foot goes down, past where the earth should begin and twists in the aborted pond hole, my left knee gouges out a hole in the earth next to it and I end up with a scratch on my right palm from a rock. In my left hand, my coffee cup remains, planted firmly in the ground.

I did NOT spill my coffee. You can see where my priorities are.