February Farm Diary: Valentine's Day Weekend

 Let me tell you, it was a wild one.  

As I mentioned previously, my hubby worked on Saturday, so, after morning chores in the house, and after the frost melted and the air warmed (quickly!), I headed outdoors wearing some heavy duty gloves and my muck boots. 

And my clothes, of course! 

I ate a meatloaf sandwich in my front porch rocker (first outdoor meal of 2026, hurray!), then I spent the entire afternoon pulling down dead vines from around the porch (the ones I purposely let grow each summer, the ones that make natural screens and shade me from the sun if I want to sit in the porch swing in the evening).  I also ripped up weeds and honeysuckle and poison ivy from flower beds, and raked and gathered three tarps full of debris to pull to the burn pile.  

Let me tell you, it was very gratifying. 

The fresh air felt great, and prepping for spring, imagining what I might plant next, etc., was inspiring. 

After Hubby got home and we fed the critters, we drove to town for a pizza.  I usually cook our meals, so a take-out pizza is a bit of a treat sometimes.  I still smelled like a barn lot, so I stayed in the car while Hubby went in to get the pizza.  

On Sunday, we were back in church, the ice finally having melted from the parking lot.  

Honestly, my heart felt heavy, with all the trouble in the land and in families' lives nearby, but I felt the Holy Spirit remind me that prayer is the greatest contribution I can make right now to peace in the world and peace within myself.   

I tried to stay away from social media, to allow myself time to re-center.   

My sister and I spent the afternoon at my dad's, chatting and eating and half-way watching the Olympics. It was a rainy dreary-looking day, and we had little choice but to rest.  

Back at home, the hubs and I had some snacks and watched TV a little and dozed in our recliners.  

There you have it, the exciting life of an old married couple. 

I'm grateful though, that not all of life is turmoil and confusion and corruption.   

I'm grateful for those I'm privileged to do life with, for the gift of being born into this beautiful area of the country, and for the hope that there is still light even when the world is dark.  

We can't let Satan blow out our light; we gotta let it shine.