It is hard to believe almost a month has gone by since I last put pen to paper.  Er….finger to keypad.  Certainly there have been plenty of thoughts going through my head, but by the time I was able to sit anywhere near paper OR a computer, the thoughts had filed themselves away somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain.  I should probably say the deep jumbled recesses of my brain…who knows if I will ever be able to retrieve them.

In other words, I have been BUSY.  Even the garden has almost forgotten what I looked like.  Any gardening trips were quick and early in the morning as the temperatures in our area climbed higher and higher, with humidity making it difficult to breathe.  Some days the best I had time for was to go out the back door, stand on the step for a moment and look out and notice the trellised green beans were steadily climbing higher and higher.  I definitely want to plant them again.  Its my first year planting this variety and regardless of what they taste like (which I won’t know for a few more weeks) they really look great as they are growing.

But I digress from what I was going to say.  Yes, I can hear some of you chuckling and saying well thats nothing new.  Those who know me and love me best know I am quite capable of talking in circles…or maybe spirals since I don’t always make it back to the starting place in my allotted talk time.  Fiddle. There I go again…

Anyway, life events have kept me too busy to write like I wanted.  Life had been good…but busy.  Getting back on track sometimes takes a little nudge, and yesterday I was nudged. Each year, about this time, I clean my workroom for the summer.  My job is part time and only during the school year but I tend to put a lot of heart into it.  We may lose our funding so I needed to take home some personal things that I would generally leave in place. There was a supply of things like coffee and creamer, extra bottled water, powdered drink packets that you add to your water bottle, power bars…you get the picture.  Everything was placed carefully in a box for me to take out to my car.  To be truthful, everything was placed carefully in several boxes because I also had some knitting for those nights when no one came to work, some slippers for the times I had to walk through ankle-deep water to get to my modular, and shawls for the times the cold air whistled through the cracks in the door faster than the heater could heat the room.  Hurrying along, I placed all the boxes together, and figured I would take a box to the car each time I had to go in the main building for something. And since I tend to carry more than I should, when that time came I tried to pick up a box, scoot around the corner of the table, holding the box against my chest with one hand while I figured what else I could carry.  Suddenly a multitude of things happened at once. I realized that the box I was holding held the container of hazelnut syrup that had a cracked lid. My thoughts at the time went something like this: “Oh no, this is the box with that bottle of syrup with the cracked lid.  The syrup is leaking out of the box…Ahhhh, when I tilted the box it must have been enough to spill the syrup.  WAIT, my knitting is also in this box!!!! And syrup is all over me! CRASH. BANG. BEEP BEEP BEEP!”  And all that happened within the space of about 3 seconds.

Looking down at the drip, with all that traffic in my head, there was no room for my brain to tell my feet to stop.  And since my hands automatically reacted to sit the box back on the table, they were going in one direction and my feet in another direction.  Not. Good. At. All.  (I always wanted to write something that way since it seems to be the trend lately in any books I read.)  My trusty well worn Crocs connected with the syrup now in the floor, and down I went.  CRASH.  My ankles bent forward a bit more than was comfortable to bend, and my knees hit the floor. Ok, a lot of me hit the floor.  BANG.  And before I think anything beyond, “God I need some help here!” my cell phone went off in my pocket. BEEP BEEP BEEP.  It was my oldest son texting to see how my day was going.

I love God things.  Before I even fell, God took into account that I might want to have the assurance of help and had my son pick up his phone and text.  In the time it took the message to reach me miles away, I had started and ended my fall, probably doing some fancy footwork in the process.

Now just so you know, I am perfectly fine, although I admit my ankles have let me know they prefer I don’t try that trick again.  My body doesn’t want to do too much today. And the song, “Pop! goes the weasel” has ricocheted in my head for almost a day. But I just love how God provided not only the cushion to my fall, but the reassurance that someone was thinking of me right at that moment.  And the nudge that while this might not be the best post I have ever attempted, I can take the time (off my feet) to sit and write about it without feeling like there is something else I should be doing instead. And maybe, just maybe since I’ve taken the time to write this down, that weasel will stop popping through my head!


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