At Home

Books, herbs, cast iron pans, glass bottles for remedies...this is our happy place.

- at home: "relaxed and comfortable; at ease; ...at harmony with surroundings". (Merriam-Webster)

I'm sitting amongst sleeping children at work, my thoughts are in twelve different directions. It's nothing new, though. This is why some things take longer for me, because I'm never working on just one thing. I'm planning and preparing either the first step or the next step on so many other tasks in my life. My English class this semester has defined that as "prewriting". See, instructor, I'm paying attention!

I've already changed the subject of this post ten times this weekend. My coworker says that maybe I should just post about not being to focus on the post. There's an herb for that. For helping me focus, I mean. Let's see...Rosmarinus officinalis...the ancient Greeks used it for studying for exams...and then there's also Lavandula angustifolia...

And then my focus returns, but it's not here. It's at home.

It feels good to say that, "at home". I roll the words around on my tongue when I speak them. Next, I let them slide off of my tongue as I say it, "at home".

They say a home is not a home until you've had a birth and a death in it. This would be the case for our little home, as our little baby bird was born in The Nook and passed away sometime later. Poor little Alfred, I can still remember Ryan bringing me his little now grey body. It was mortifying to me, because he looked completely different dead than alive. What was once an active, round, pink baby bird was then a still, lifeless, grey body.

Life is so fragile, isn't it? The same week Alfred died Bentley ended up getting bit by a snake and even though he had a good chance of surviving, I still worried. I worried about Alfred until his death, I was worried about Bentley even when we went to the vet.

There is no control of life outside of the Father's hands, and I've accepted that.
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But life is abundant, life is full. Life blooms daily as the day lilie's that grow along the road, it grows as the orpine and mullein do, and it ends as it should for the benefit of others. Whether by the use of an herb for our medicine, or for the time we shared to come to an end to be a revelation for others, death should be accepted.

Bentley is alive and well, and Alfred made a place in my heart that made me realize I may want a child sooner than I realized, whenever the Lord wills it.

The evenings at The Nook are my favorite time of day. The oil lamps are lit, the herbs I gathered hung, and Ryan, Bentley, and I are in for the day. Spending quality time together, Ryan and I comb through herbals, we discuss future plans for The Nook, for living self sufficiently, and where God may take us one day.

Of course, there are talks of politics and humor of "social justice warriors", and we let off the steam of the day.

So I'll post about orpine next week. This week, I just want to revel in my thoughts of being "at home".