Harvest

"...he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast."

So I've been feasting every day. Because this earth will only spin a few more times before my time is up and there's no worse waster of that time than a constant frown and a "wounded spirit" that none can bear.

Been harvesting gooseberries and I have to tell you, that's one not so easy to prepare fruit. Not the easiest to harvest, either - tons of tiny little ones tucked here there and everywhere on the vines, amidst occasional thorns. Of course this country girl can't seem to go long without scratches, bug bites, burns and cuts marring her arms so who can distinguish where the thorns have been? Once they're harvested either you can toss them into a big pot, cover with water, boil and then rice out the juice, or you can tediously de-stem every single tiny little berry, cut off every bad spot and after many hours perhaps you'll make a decent pie or two. Then about half the people you feed it to may like it. So I've taken to selling the fruits of my labor and so far have made...zero dollars. :) But a lady's supposed to come tonight and buy some. Not holding my breath.

Yesterday, between pitting cherries, slicing strawberries, peeling peaches, stemming gooseberries I picked and failed to sell last week, and finally, briefly escaping from the house for a brief visit with Colette, I had little time to ponder anything. But today I've returned to the verse I see as the theme verse for my blog: Proverbs 4:26, which reads "Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established." So I've been trying to ponder it and whilst doing so keep getting told I'm doing  it wrong. That I'm looking at the wrong things or seeing it the wrong way or coming to the wrong conclusions or interpretations. Shockingly, at age 33 I have my own mind now, my own beliefs and theories and ideas. Innumerable seeds have been planted in my soul over the course of my life. Some rotted away, some bravely shot up only to get choked out by weeds or withered away for lack of care, but still others, quite a few, pushed roots deep into the soil, shot their heads to the sky and, in this new life, begin to bud. Often I feel that these blooms when they open, must hide themselves, else they be seen, but not really seen, and misunderstood. But then, what purpose do they serve? But also, what excuse have I, if I've learned nothing from all the places I've been, people I've spoken with, things I've seen and heard, church services I've attended, books I've read, songs I've heard, movies I've watched, etc. etc.  An idiot, I'm not.

So I wonder when I'll be ready for harvest. Because for me, harvest time means cutting the gorgeous flowers free from stem and displaying them for the world to see, each bright petal another means of brightening someone's life. But others will look at the same arrangement and take offense, even see me as a threat because I think differently or dare to claim that I can be right and so can they. Hmmm...perhaps I should shut up now as I've probably already begun to make people feel this way. Enough of that I guess - homework and housework and childcare call loudly. The house awakens from naptime and back to work we go.

Blessings, V