Really don’t mind…

…if you sit this one out. I have been writing a lot lately because of the rains! Saturday we were able to do lessons and yesterday (Monday!) some area peeps received OVER 6 inches of rain! I am actually excited about what this means for our mountain, our water table, our river and this beautiful desert. I am also feeling slightly frantic with the inability to tackle the weeds (it is too wet right now, they just bend). My Mum is in a great facility and getting stronger every day. My brother is with her before and after work and I only see him in the late evenings. Quite a sudden change from having the whole family living in my house for 7 weeks and all the regular lessons moved to the weekends so I could be constantly with my Mother!

And with the saturation level here, I have to keep postponing lessons. This sort of situation will put you in either a meditative, get things done mood or a cabin fevered, where is that emergency cigarette frame of mind. I am choosing the former…. for now 😉

I quit smoking decades ago, but in high stress moments, the thought still crosses my mind. I started smoking because of my College. Seriously. I went to college at age 15, did not do high school. It was a Baptist Junior College (I have always been a Buddhist) in southern Virginia. I was pre-Veterinary, going to go to VPI in Blacksburg… I would have been a young Veterinarian! But I ended up in Florida later riding colts off the track for a H/J barn…

Anyway, at that college, the “Men are allowed to use tobacco on campus; the girls are forbidden to use tobacco on campus” that was exactly the wording. It was 1970/71 and, being me, I immediately started smoking. Crikey. It took several attempts in later life to quit, but I did and on the monthly anniversary of quitting, I always bought myself a crystal or cool stone with the money I would have spent on cigarettes. I have some awesome stones.

And really, I will never smoke again… I eat apples when I feel edgy and still do Rescue Remedy (which helped me quit way back). But the memory of smoking is ready to pop up anytime. And old songs I love(d) hit me with “the yellow-fingered smokey girl is looking up at me”, “smoked your 27th cigarette”, on and on.

And realistically, it was a coping “skill” for me during a difficult youth. A better choice than the 24 hour vodka stupor my father chose! So, today I write while clouds build again on the mountain – Arrgghhhh! I start reorganizing the house (I have high hopes that someday the person I love will come be with me, or I will travel to him) and reorganizing my thoughts. I’m able to turn horses out in calm pairings – hoping that no one goes galloping around too fast and furious! It is slick out there.

The dogs sleep on the sofa – it is what they do best. I have some organic peppers to roast in the oven; some skin balm I need to make; fly repellent to make; students to call to postpone lessons and a house to clean! I’ll start supper (tea) in the crock pot… something to go with the sweet red wine a friend gave me.

And, if it just keeps raining, I’ll just keep writing. You have been warned 😉