I think the word I'm looking for is "Heavy"

 Heavy

like a box that has weights in it, 

or bags of chicken scratch and feed,

I carry this feeling with me.

It's been here all week.

I will call it grief.

Grief for a new friend,

I feel guilty that it hurts, 

because I didn't know her well.

Grief,

and relief,

for a family that I only know

in a small town way.

Guilt that I'm grateful

that it's not me

facing their walk,

their pain

their shame. 

Stigma...

I wish it weren't a word.

But especially in small town,

rural Kansas, 

it's definitely a word.

There is no shame,

but I feel it just the same,

when I face the crisis 

of supporting a child

that society doesn't understand.

or embrace. 

Heavy.

My heart is heavy

like a cold steel beam

facing the loss.

As if it weren't enough...

I remember

a man on a cross

dying slowly,

painfully,

because I am a selfish sinner.

Heavy.

The weight of the gift

is heavy.

My heart, 

dragging these feelings

is heavy.

I will lay it down today

so tomorrow I can remember

the joy

of my salvation.

Knowing that

these things, feelings, baggage,

are still 

heavy.

-Carrie Horn

WWJD?

 I know this isn't a religious forum. But lately everything in my life seems to be spiritual or political and usually with one affecting the other. I was raised to be a conservative, right-wing political and religious person. And I honestly believed that people who were different from me were going to hell. They are not "real" Christians. But as I have gained more information about myself, about the world, about politics, social class, and the beliefs that I hold dear, I am finding that I don't agree with my family and my younger self. I have some to the conclusion that "real" Christians follow the teachings of the new testament in the Bible. And Jesus and Paul both have a LOT to say about love and taking care of the poor and the downtrodden. Not so much to say about how "my" money shouldn't go to pay taxes or to take care of "those" people. Nothing that says that people will be led to Christ by my rants and rages and putting people down and making people feel scared or unsafe. Jesus example would lead me to believe that I should be non-aggressive even in the face of people who are trying to kill me. So the commonly held belief that people should: Hate the sin; Love the sinner by the way of excluding people from church, family, fellowship or by berating them or (someone I love, loves this option) writing them letters telling them to repent or they are going to hell seems to bass-ackward to me. 

Today is Transgender Day of Visibility. My decision to be an advocate and safe place for people who are different from me is especially important today. I am not telling you why, but that's okay. It is still important. One thing I'm learning is that I don't always have the right to tell someone else's story. And I don't have to explain myself in order for my reasons to be valid. They are just valid. 

So happy day of visibility. If I wonder what Jesus would do today in America, I'm confident he'd be giving free hugs to transgenders and other members of the queer community. He'd be going out to dinner with them, or playing a game with them, or hanging out with them, or just letting them know He was there for them. Not attaching that oh-so-important piece where we grade their life and judge and let them know they aren't welcome here because while we love them, we hate the sin. 

I believe that Jesus loves me. And that I want to give others the opportunity to know what that feels like. Because I'm far from a saint. Forgiveness and acceptance are components I deeply value. Jesus would be my friend, and he'd hang out with the people I hang out with. That's what I think Jesus would do. 

Suicide Prevention and a Rant....

 Kansas is in the throes of political and moral turmoil right now. Especially with this new gender law. People with their current gender affirming ID, no longer have a valid driver's license. I have a whole biblical rant about all this stuff too, but all I'm going to say is this, if you come at me about what God says in the bible, make sure you can back it up and that you educate me, not throw shade. But that is a little off topic.... which is kind of how I live, especially since the cost of my ADHD med just went up by $300/month. 

Saturday my daughter participated in a Suicide Prevention Event in another town. We drove an hour and a half to get there to discover that we were one of three vendors. But it was for a good cause and there was no booth fee. So not a total loss, right? 

Set up just across the way from us was Kris Kobach. I was stunned. Kobach has consistently opposed LGBTQ rights, and Transgender rights. What does this have to do with suicide prevention? Did you know that in 2024 the Trevor Project surveyed the LGBTQ community and found that 39% of the LGBTQ+ community have seriously considered suicide in the past year and 46% of the Transgender population have considered it. Kobach has also opposed funding for mental health services, which is a direct hit against suicide prevention from where I'm sitting. or Standing. 

It's kind of blurry and that's okay, because it 
isn't the ladies fault that Kobach is a liar.

I really wanted to go over and ask the lady why the booth was even there. But when I went to the next table over, I heard her talking to someone and she doesn't actually work for Kobach. She probably genuinely thought she was being proactive in Suicide Prevention. So I clamped my lips shut. And that was super hard. I wanted to call out Kobach for his two-facedness. But I know it wouldn't actually affect Kobach. 

The great things at this event included the educational materials that were available for free, the PRIDE booth that was manned by a very informative individual who provided solid information for someone with limited knowledge of gender indentities such as myself. We connected to people personally affected by losing someone to suicide. 

Now, what are the next steps? How do I become an advocate in my community and let kids/adults/all peoples know that this is a safe space and they can talk through their fears, anxieties and disappointments with us? 

I know that God made my LGBTQ+ friends and family. And I know that God loves me. My job isn't to judge. It's to give hope. 

Sometimes You (by you I mean me) Need to Bang Your Head...

 Tonight was unwinding as a pretty chill Saturday evening. I was making a queso dip with beans in it, like Chili's skillet queso. It was coming along nicely and I was pretty excited about sitting down to eat and spending time hanging out with my kids. I had this little bit of mozzerella left over in the fridge and it needed to be used up, so I started to cube it up and throw it in the skillet. But then I got busted doing that thing you're not supposed to do (holding the object you are cutting and cutting toward your skin). And after bleeding through 4 or 5 bandaids in an hour, I thought maybe it warranted a trip to the ER. So me and the eldest took off toward the town with the better ER. We listened to music and talked about the good music (in the 80's) and talked about life. And laughed. Apparently we'd each stressed over this cut and the adrenaline rush made us funny. Or we thought so. And let's be perfectly honest here, we usually think we're funny. But we were giggly goofy. So we get checked in, and the nurse calls us back, and cleans my cut and wraps it in gauze and tells me to keep pressure on it. So I do. And soon enough the Nurse Practitioner comes and looks and says "It's closed itself off, you just need a bandaid. You're good to go..." We giggled some more. And signed dismissal papers. 

All the way home we jammed to some rock and talked. Some talk was serious. Some not. But as we turned onto our road, we were mid conversation when Whitesnake came on the radio. My long time anthem, "Here I Go Again..." Therefore, it is forbidden to talk during the song. And said child felt the need to fuck with the radio. She kept turning it off or changing the station. So after a not-so-idle threat to let her walk the rest of the way in the dark with the coyotes as her companions, she stopped and I was free to crank it up and head bang. Still bangin' as we pulled into our drive. Child gets out. I had to leave the car running so I wouldn't miss anything. But the trees seemed to interfere with the reception, so a little backing up was necessary. Child is watching and laughing. Just Mom, going for a cruise, banging her head to her 80's rock. 

Now that the head banging has commenced. All is right with the world again. Rock on my friends. Rock on. 

So much I don't know

 I could say this about anything in life really. That there's so much I don't know. But tonight I'm referring to sourdough bread making. There is a certain thought that the dough will be forgiving. That it's not rocket science. But a lot of the posts and comments say that it is rocket science. That it is precise and you (me) have no margin for error. 

Is my room/house too cold? What if it doesn't rise or double? What if it does? What do I do with the discard (besides discarding it)? 

Tonight I'm drifting off as I try to think of what I want to write about and I have this sinking feeling I'm forgetting something important. Nah.... you're just worried about.... oh crap! You're worried about those jars of bread you managed to forget about on the countertop. 

oh no.

I guess time will tell. If it's forgiving or harsh. I'm off to see if I can rescue it. 

I am a Swifty

 Yes, I'm a Swifty. It's not about the music. Well, not solely. I like her music. I liked her music when she was country and just a young 'un. But then she started to show how headstrong she was. Having opinions about things that aren't a part of the country music world, or the whole patriarchal society we live in. Shame on her. (haha). Or did she just outgrow the genre? So... I want to say that I get it if not everyone loves her, but I found myself feeling less that understanding when my friend said she wasn't a fan. I asked why. She said because doesn't like that kind of music. Really?! I thought all women were fans. Taylor is a champion for human rights and for women's rights. She's shown herself to be brave when she was assaulted and then was sued by her perpetrator for the loss of his job! Swift counter-sued for $1 stating that she was standing up women everywhere who were not believed when they reported an assault. Taylor is an example of a self-made woman who blew the hell off of the glass ceiling. And that makes me happy. She is known for her generosity to people who work for her; generosity to charities and food banks in the cities she tours in. I know she made generous donations to families of the victims in the KC parade for the Chiefs Superbowl win when lives were lost because of gunfire. This was a devastating event and she took it seriously. As far as I can tell, she is humble. Not arrogantly trying use money to make a situation go away. 

I just like the girl, okay. I continue to read ariticles and posts all over social media that raise her status up to me and continue to make think she's a pretty exceptional human being. 

No one accidentally gave her a bunch of money that she didn't ever work for. I watched the Eras Tour movie. Three and a half hours of running, prancing, dancing, all while singing and never losing her voice control. What? From what I understand that comes from intense training.... singing while running on a treadmill, learning the choreography while singing.... working out, practicing, taking feedback, re-doing practice takes. Over and over. The girl is smart and funny and sweet. Obviously, no one is perfect. And people might act differently when they know they are constantly being recorded. But she seems to be relaxed and just her "norm." 

This girl can sing, treat people with dignity, stand up for herself, champion other women and performers of all genders, oppose indecent treatment of people as a whole, and she's unafraid to speak her truth. No one would say that Oprah isn't an icon because they don't like to watch talk shows. Oprah is a fucking force. Because she is a self-made woman. A self-made black woman. Who should be respected. And these are the things I think about Taylor Swift as well. Okay, I do not think she's a self-made black woman. What I want to reference though is that she had/has a brave soul and crazy nerve to just go after what she wants and maintain confidence and dignity and treat people around her with respect and kindness. She's a fucking force. So how can you say you don't like her because you don't like that kind of music. She's bigger than that. An icon. A representative of what women can do. Or what young people can do. I know she's 36, but I'm old enough to be her mom. She was only 20 when Kanye West pulled his stupid stunt. She's a force because she was just a kid when she started all this. And now at 36, she's still a young woman to me. I don't mean that derogatory, I think she behaves like a mature woman, I think she's eternally young. I don't know. I don't know if I can explain what I mean, but I keep coming back to the facts that she's an icon and legend and she's not near the end of her life in any way or form. She's a freaking force. 

I'm a fan. A full-on swifty. And I am not afraid to shout it out. 

Yes, I am "just" the Substitute

 So next week I have a long-term gig. Teaching for a teacher on her honeymoon. I am super excited about it. And more than a little bit nervous. This is not the easiest class I've ever subbed in. So I feel like I need to really be on top of my game. One thing I firmly believe in is that continuity is good for kids. And the more days they can have the same sub, the better. Plus, it's a job. And money is one of those evil neccessities. 

Maybe teaching a string of days in one classroom will fulfill the teacher-need that I have to make a difference in the life of a child. Maybe it will be enough time to see some lightbulb moments. That is my prayer. 

Most of the time, subbing fills an empty spot in my soul that is meant to filled by being a classroom teacher. The planning, the implementing, the relationship building, the lightbulb moments, and the growth that isn't measured in moments. That hole. 

But subbing meets the relationship requirements and fills an empty space. Sometimes I get to see kids "get it" and that fills a teacher thing inside me as well. 

But what I really love about subbing is not writing lesson plans, not grading papers, not spending hours and weekends making and restocking learning centers. I don't miss sacrificing my family because I believe in kids. And with substituting I get the best of both worlds. I get to make a difference in the life of a kid, and I get to spend time with my family. 

Super grateful. 

Crazy Chicken Lady...

 I didn't used to be a crazy chicken lady. Well, I mean, before I bought chickens. But the whole thing of taking that leap and purchasing chickens in the first place led me down a dangerous path. We just randomly bought all sorts of birds that first year. That was during the covid shut down. We got bantams, silkies (which are bantams), and some layers. We went back the next week and got ducks. We would have kept on buying if we had more room. 

Then we moved to the country and learned about the Yoder Poultry Auction. Held on the last Friday of the month. Except the March and April auctions have grown so large that they are now held on Saturday. But if you go to auctions, you know they are kind of addictive. Not sure if that's the right word. But they pull you in. It's hard to stop bidding on something. We have acquired birds at auction. You also have to pay attention at auction to know what you're buying. Because sometimes they auctioneer will say, "choice," and sometimes they say, "selling the pair," or they might say something about "_____ x's the money...." Maybe there's a cage of 6 of a kind of bird, and they might say, "6 times the money." A lot of times, chicks will be grouped, by 3 or 4 or 6 or more. One year I got duped into 18 times the money. Whoops. But this type of chicken math counts against me. 

I hatched out some chickens last fall with the hope of adding to my flock. My flock never seems to produce to capacity. I currently have 10 hens and I NEVER get 10 eggs in a day. But I've gotten 8 a few times recently. Which is pretty good for my flock. However, of the eggs I hatched, I think it was 12 or 13 hatched. Almost all of them are roosters! I think 4 or possibly 5 are hens. The roos will go to auction in April. They are getting pretty. But I'm also on a quest for filling out my rainbow egg colors. I need a white egg layer. We will need to find a chicken that isn't white, but that lays white eggs. A few years ago, I got some white leghorns, and a California White maybe(?), that laid white eggs. But our white hens seem to get picked off by something.... fox or hawk maybe? They got gone during daytime when they were out free ranging. They simply didn't come home. So now we have no chickens that lay white eggs. And we don't have any blue egg layers now. We have a really pretty light green that is so light it's almost white. And we have some green eggers that lay kind of a sage green color and sometimes they are speckled. The speckled eggs are really pretty. And same with brown egg layers. Of my brown eggers, I have some pretty variations. One lays a light, light brown that is almost a pinkish color or peach-colored. And we have one Welsummer hen and she lays a light brown egg with speckles. And then we have a couple blue copper marans that lay a darker brown egg. I really want a black copper maran, which are supposed to lay the super-rich, super-dark brown eggs. If I had a blue egger, a white egger, and a dark chocolate brown egger, my rainbow would be pretty complete. 

My current egg colors. 

We decided about 3 years ago we wanted to raise silkies. They are pretty little bantams. Very interesting little birds. Sweet and docile. We are in the process of thinning our flock to the higher quality birds. As a general rule, our silkies are pet quality. But last fall we bought some show quality roosters. And a couple of our hens have a higher quality presentation, especially the poof. I think those poofs might be called the crown or crest. Dang, now I am going to have to look it up. Crest. I looked and what I found referred to that poof as the crested head. So anyway, we have been loading the incubator and hatching these little babies. Our last hatch was a little bit of a dud. There were two. Well, I helped one out, so three. But the one that I had to help hatch did not make it. Then last night, I forgot to plug their heatlamp back in. It was too warm in the back room where their brooder cage is, and I unplugged their lamp while it was hot yesterday. But I forgot to plug it back in. So they were cold this morning. I plugged their heat lamp back in. I was super worried about one of them, he couldn't stop shaking. Later today, he passed. This is when I'm reminded that Silkies are a little fragile. I'm hoping we'll find some gorgeous silkie hens this year to add to our flock. This will help us maintain a high quality of hatching silkies. 

Our thinned out Silkie flock

Currently I have two incubators on my counter that can hatch 41 birds. I don't load them full. I load every other egg holder. There's usually a better hatch rate this way. But sometimes I have bad hatches. The first couple times I loaded the incubator, I had a great hatch! Like a 90% hatch. But the "norm" or average hatch rate is about 50%. Sometimes I make that, or a little higher, and sometimes they are just duds. So my last hatch was a bit of dud. 

I'm getting ready to load the other incubator and try again and see what happens. 

This crazy chicken lady is going to something called "Chick Chat" this weekend. It is supposed to have free samples of feeds and stuff. But it's dangerous letting me loose in a farm store this time of year. 

Read everyone's slice of life by clicking the slice above

Random Stuff on day 3 of Spring Break

 Man I tried so hard to bang out a blog post before it was too late last night. I kept nodding off. But the last time wasn't a nod off, it was a full on sleep. I jerked awake at 1 something. It was time to call it a draw and just go on to bed. 

So I am determined not to give in today. I WILL complete this post! lol. 

My favorite way to write is randomly. Random ramblings about my day/week/situation. This kind of writing is cathartic for me. But that being said, I hope you can follow. I write like I talk, and I talk like I think, and that's a whole lot of ADHD. 

Today I met with a friend for coffee. We haven't met for coffee for 5 years! It was so good to be together today! This girl brings sunshine to every room and I love her. I'm so lucky/blessed to have her as a friend. My friend heart is happy tonight. 

When I returned home, I decided to just start this sour dough journey, right or wrong. So I mixed up a gluten free starter and a not gluten free starter and put them in the oven with the light on. We'll see what happens. I'm equal parts terrified and excited about this project. What do I do with the discard? I think you start discarding at day 3. That discard won't be bubbly and fermented. So is it worthless? I don't know yet. I'll pursue it further before then. But I'm super excited to try and make crackers sometime. 

Then my daughter asked me if I wanted to do her nails. Of course! My daughter is a nail tech. She's taught me a little bit. I love being creative. So this was a fun adventure for me.

I was outside talking on the phone. I have a phone call every week at this time, and on this day with my friend Sally. While I was on the phone, I'm walking around outside. We hear the goats bleating. Because that's what goats do. They are noisy little critters. But I look at them and laugh and keep walking. As I come around the other side of the goat pen, onoe of my girls is getting humped by another goat. I'm still on the phone and trying to figure out what is happening. Is this one of those goat-in-heat things where there's a little girl-on-girl action? Wait. What? NOooooo! It's the same goat I was laughing at when it was bleating around the corner back there, in his own pen! How is he in here with the does?! I end my call. I call inside and tell my daughter to get outside and help me. So she comes out. I have the little buck off of the doe (his MOTHER) when she gets there. We get the buck back to the other pen and start investigating where he got out. As we're walking to the corner of the pen to see if there's a gap in the fence, Dobby, our little escape-artist buck, sticks he head under the fence in the corner where we noticed it was bent back a little. He sticks his head under the fencing and starts to shimmie through that gap. So we now know where he's getting through the fence. So we go back and strengthen and repair the fence. Boys in their pen. Girls in their pen. 

I don't know if I've mentioned this recently, but I love collecting eggs. I collected eggs this morning when I let the chickens and ducks out. I have 5 ducks and collected 5 eggs. And three chicken eggs. My chickens lay brown and green eggs. I'm still chasing the rainbow. I need a white egg layer and a blue egg layer. And maybe a deeper brown, or a red. That deep, deep brown that looks red. 

Dinner tonight was smoked sausages on the grill, fried potatoes, and cream corn. Not to brag, but.... I make some damn good cream corn. It was even canned corn. It was good though! Worthy of seconds. Yes I did have me some seconds. 

Now I sit here attempting to type and nodding off. So while I know this may not be the most interesting post I've ever typed, I can't afford to go back to spice it up. I'm just too tired. Today was a good day. 

Spring Break: day one

 I want to know.... Are you addicted to comments on your posts? 

I think I am. When I look and see, yes, I had more people click on my blog than any day before but no one commented, my heart feels broken. And it's kind of like I don't get it. I keep going back to check to see if there's a comment now. or maybe now. Not yet? Well, maybe now? 

First day of Spring Break. We went to town and each of us had appointments. Then I had a meeting that lasted an hour, and it was time to pick up Kiddo from your treatment. Then we headed home. But I do feel like I've accomplished exactly nothing yet today. And it's time to go take care of animals... *sigh* what will I have time to accomplish? 

Oh, wait, one thing I accomplished. Someone is asking me about kittens. So I sexed them and took pics. This lady only wants females. So I sent pictures of the sweet little girls. 

Next will be caring for animals. and it's my night off for making dinner. I hope to get garden seeds planted this evening yet. And I hope to get the potato planting ready. We are planting in feed bags this year. 

I also want to make my sour dough starter tonight. I hope we get that going. Along with more reading, about the sourdough, because there's so much I don't know. 

I leave you with pics of the girl kittens. They look a lot alike in the pics but seriously they are three different kittens. 

Home

 It was great weekend get away, but I'm so glad to be home. 

Home

where they miss you when you're gone. 

I missed them.

The children of mine

I'm so grateful 

they keep things running 

in my absence.

I missed 

laughing with my girls,

puppy dog snuggles, 

kitten kisses, 

cats on my lap.

Home holds those routines

that bring order to my life.

Feeding the animals,

gathering eggs, 

taking out the trash, 

and making dinner.

Home is where 

it all hangs out.

The good, the bad, the mundane. 

Home is where it's "safe"

to feel my feelings, 

to laugh and cry,

to process, 

to do the work.

Home, 

a great place to leave in dust 

every once in a while. 

Home, 

a great place to come back too. 

Selfishly Speaking

 They say that self care isn't selfish. But boy it sure does feel like it. Sometimes in a guilt-laden way, and sometimes in a luxurious day. Today is the luxurious kind. I have retreated to a women's sleepover with people who are like me. And it feels absolutely luxurious. I know the animals are taken care of and so far, the kids are taking care of each other. So that is a great relief. And I've been running around with friends. I found out that I forgot a lot of things. A camp chair, a pillow, a towel, shampoo, body wash. Normally, I wouldn't mess with it. The towel, shampoo, body wash part. But since I got in a hurry and left without showering I needed these things. So last night included closing down Walmart to shop. I only gave in to one bargain that I "needed." A pair of kids slippers. That fit me. For $3. It's been all about me. What do I want. And maybe that isn't the definition of self care. I am not sure. But whatever. At this moment, with these people, I am happy. 

Today we are going thrifting. I have a little cash to spend so it should be fun. Let's be honest, time with these girls, its' always fun. Maybe a little inappropriate at times, but always fun. 

I came down to the coffee shop to blog because the building we are in doesn't have wifi. And when I got here the line was long, and when I finally made it to the counter, they said, "Give us a few minutes to catch up." I said I'd sit down for a minute and come back up when there wasn't a line. But this little place is full to capacity and it hasn't slowed down yet at all. I might finish this post without ever getting my luxurious cup of coffee. 

Today the ADHD is strong. I got to the car to come here, realized that although I remembered my bag with my computer, I forgot my purse with $$ and the keys. Insert hand smacking face emoji here.  

Just so happens that this sleepover is in my old town, where I lived for 15 years. Raised my kids. Got my teaching degree. There's a familiarity. And gratitude. Both for the things this place taught me, and that I live where I live now. 

My body is a little angry and telling me that sleeping on the cold cement in a not-so-great air mattress, breaking in a new pillow, and sleeping amidst conversation of those who believe in the theme of sleepovers... staying up all night... But the stiff and sore muscles, and fuzzy brained sleep deprived mind are worth it today. 

Life is good today. I will remember this all day. And remember that whatever I focus on increases. When I focus on the good, the good increases... 

Fri-Yay!

 Today is Friday and the first day of Spring Break for me. That is part of the joy of being a substitute, I control my hours. My district has school today and LOTS of postings for subs, but I'm going out of town today to spend the weekend with recovery friends. But that's another post! I'm going to use an old favorite from the beginning days of teaching. Five for Friday. Five things about my week. Here we go.... 

1. Hatching chicks. We've been dry hatching for awhile now and its the same chaotic results as trying to control humidity! My hatch before this one I had 11 out of 17 hatch, that's a pretty good hatch. We lost one, but still have 10. This hatch, I had 3 hatch. Out of 21. And to be honest, really only 2 hatched. I helped the third one. And we could still lose that one. It is not strong and doesn't walk well, it's small too. I take it to the waterer a couple times a day and dunk it's head in the water so it can drink. The other 2 are doing great. When I first starting incubating I had really high hatch rates and I thought I was a genius becasue they say that a 50% hatch rate is a good hatch. Now I've had terrible results and not so terrible results but I do longer get 15 out of 18 or other really high rates. Research could possibly help me. But so far I've read so many wildly different reasons as to what's wrong that I cannot possibly figure it out. But this was the start to the week.

2. Subbing in Kinder. Tuesday was my Monday for subbing. I subbed in Kindergarten, some of my favorite people. It's an unruly and wild class. Lil violence, lil bit of lots of talking, lots and lots of minding each other's business. Wow. But after I'm done, I see them in the halls, they all love me and give me hugs. Young people are loving and forgiving. I love that. 

3. March 10, 2020. My Dad's death date. Rough day. Not in such an obvious way. At first, I didn't remember. I kept wondering why my brain was so befuddled. Why I was clumsy and awkward. Why my world was a little bit off. Then I remembered. We group text about it, my Mom, my sister and I. And I wrote about it. Cathartic.

4. Mom's birthday. Yesterday was Mom's birthday. We won't be all together to celebrate until next weekend. That is a little maddening. But it is what it is. She deserves to be celebrated. 

5. Anticipating the weekend! I'm spending this weekend at a recovery sleepover. It's a little less structured than some and just a time to fellowship, recharge, and get to know people. I think I'll pack some craft supplies to share with the group. 

That is my week! Of course, so much more happened but this is the short list! I hope you had a week full of things to remember and reflect on! 

Mom's Birthday

 Today is my mother's birthday. I was subbing today, so we (the class I was in and I) called and left Mom a happy birthday message. It was fun. We will celebrate her next Friday evening. And dang.... that's a long ways away still. But schedules be busy. 

Once upon a time ago, when I was a teenager, I ran away from home on my Mom's birthday. I didn't really run away so much as I just didn't go home. But I was young, maybe 15, and doing all the teenage angst/rebellion stuff, messing with the wrong crowd, and the chemicals that go with it. My thinking just wasn't that clear. But that is a lousy pile of excuses. Because guess what? The guilt doesn't go away. I've asked forgiveness and it's been given. I've talked to God and I'm pretty sure He said to move on already. But the guilt is still there. I still hang my head in shame. 

Today I think of my Mom, on her birthday, all alone at home. The 10th of March was the anniversary of my Dad's passing. Just two days before Mom's birthday. Mom's birthday will never be the same. And today, Mom has a boyfriend, but he's not dad. We all know that. Us kids know it. My mom knows it. Warren (the bf) knows it. Dad (in the heavenly realms) knows it. What I was going for when I started this paragraph was that in some ways, it's more lonely now. There's a lonley quality to Mom's birthday because my Dad, for all the ways and days that he fell short, was the love of her life. And in some ways, it doesn't matter how we fill the day and celebrate her and who might be involved. The loneliness is alive and well. 

It's important for us to celebrate mom. Even if it takes until next Friday to make all our schedules collide in a positive way. She's turning 83 and deserves all the love. There's so many times I haven't honored her, and it's time. 

Happy Birthday to my mother. Mom, I love you. 

Today's wins....

 Some wins today... 

Today I subbed in my favorite school building. I go between 5 elementary schools substitute teaching. I have a lot of respect for the principal here. Actually, this year, both the principals, the assistant principal is amazing too. And the truth, if we are truth telling here, is that the secretary says a lot about the building... the welcome to the students, parents and public; building morale.... the building secretary at this school is the bomb! She is amazingly kind, and sweet and knowledgeable. 

So anyway... today I was at my favorite building and I walk in (a couple minutes late... IYKYK) to find out that the class I was in had PE first thing in the morning! *win* 

That little break early in the day gave me the opportunity to really study the plans and figure things out, get myself organized for the day. *win*

This class went to lunch pretty early. 10:45. So I headed up to the teacher's lounge to heat up my lunch. I walked in and.... whoa! No need for a lunch! The PTO for this building also rocks! And PTO provided lunch for the staff today to show them they are appreciated! *win*

The last hour of the day.... ART! You know, some schools don't have ART, and some schools in this district, only have 40 minutes. So an hour of art was a win for the school, the students and the teachers. And for me, the sub, it was a definite *win*. 

Before the end of the day, Ms. Karrah, the amazing secretary, who has a child in the school and is a part of the PTO I was talking about earlier, provided me with school shirts! I sub here a lot. So I decided it would be a worthwhile investment to snag a couple shirts from the PTO. When I received them, they were gifted to me! I didn't have to pay for them! How cool is that?! *win*

These were a few wins today. I seriously doubt these were all the wins because the truth is, we find what we look for. If I looked, I know I'd find more. I have so much to be grateful for. I'm super glad for days like today when there are an abundance of little wins to reflect on and enjoy. 

Dad

 Everyday I face two different dilemmas. One is that I have so many things I could possibly blog about that its overwhelming, daunting, intimidating. The other... blogging desert. No blogs in my mind, no mundane to exchange into something extraordinary.

Today falls more into the overwhelm, too many ideas category. But the elephant in the room tonight is that this is my Dad's death day. Six years ago today my dad passed away. I don't know how to write about it. As I sit here, my grief grows bigger and I feel like I might cry. I miss his laugh, his voice, listening to him sing, and talk. I miss talking to him and hanging out with him. And just sitting together and not talking. 

I miss how he'd call me and say, "It's your Pop-po!" Or "Hello Carrie Lynnerskinner..." or "Hello Sunshine..."

I miss the way he smelled. The way he talked. The way he prayed. One of my kids said that one of her favorite memories was his prayer. His mealtime prayer was always the same. Unless it wasn't.  I mean, at Christmas time, or Easter, or anytime that there was a large gathering, there was a long prayer of thanksgiving. But daily meals, it was just deeply ingrained in him. 

I think about how he sang to us as kids. We'd beg to get rocked. And he sang to my older girls. Then when I had more girls, he sang to my younger girls. And my grandson. 

I haven't reconciled myself to some things he believed in and counted as part of his Christian faith. Because they aren't part of my Christian faith and I feel angry and sad when I think of the things he believed that weren't true. 

I miss my Dad. He was such a huge part of who I am.

Dad's last day at home. 

Random tidbits of the day

 Just a few thoughts tonight. I'm not adjusting to the time change. It's so difficult for me. I'm wide awake right now. But I have to be up in a few short hours so I should probably go to bed. 

I got the silkie babies moved to their brooder pen and out of the incubator. It wasn't a great hatch. I think we are going to have 3. Its a little early to say. I had two hatch and then the very first one to pip (and then zip) never progressed. I could see him still breathing in there, so I opened up the shell. At first he was so bent up that I thought maybe it was too late, that he'd been bent over like that for too long. But an hour later, he was holding his head up. Another hour, he was upright or at least upright-ish. He seems to be making good progress. But the truth is, the prognosis is not good for chicks that cannot get out of the egg on their own. Time will tell. 

The baby kitties are getting cuter and sweeter every day. There is one that purrs every time I hold him. a little while ago I went out and was holding him and he was purring and sucking on his tongue. It was really cute and sweet. And he was smiling. No wonder I love kittens. 

Yesterday my daughter and I moved some birds around. Well we brought some birds back inside. Yes, we are one of those weird house holds that has a backroom full of animals. Baby chicks. Almost grown chicks. And Pumpkin, our pergatory cat. Pumpkin was an outdoor kitty. Then he decided he liked it best at the neighbors house. Then one day the neighbor knocks on my door with Pumpkin in hand. She said he was beating up on her cats and she doesn't want him over there. So that is a little bit of dilemma because if he's allowed to roam outside, he'll head right back over there. Also, he decided not to get along with our other outdoor cats, including Sapphire, our momma cat that was his main squeeze for a long time. We have too many indoor cats, but to beat the band, Pumpkin doesn't get along with the indoor cats either. So he can't live indoors, and he can't live outdoors. He's stuck in pergatory, otherwise known as "the back room."

We were in an egg desert for awhile this winter. But now everyone is loving the longer hours of daylight. And they have all come through molt. And we're finally getting eggs. Currently we have 6 dozen eggs that need a new countertop to hang out on. 

Today was supposed to be the day. The day the veggies got planted. But the day is over. The seeds are still in the packets, the potatoes are still in the sacks they came home in. 

I'm tired. And there's more to do tomorrow than time in the day. But I get to teach Kinder tomorrow. My favorite grade. At my favorite school to work at, with kids I have a relationship with. And I'm pretty sure the weather is supposed to be Spring-like as well. 

Sleep well tonight world. Trust the process. There is a process. I am trying to trust it. I wish the same for you.

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Just another day in paradise

 Today was just another day in the life of a hobby farmer. I guess we have a hobby farm. Maybe it's less than that even. But we are sure it is a farm. The birds and goats and cats and dogs. All the critters. Not actually. Not yet. But girls can dream.

Today we had some mundane "work" to do. Moving birds around according to keepers or goners. And our silkie flock is getting smaller and the grow out pen is getting to be quite a flock. So we had to flip the space. 

A friend messaged me about hens. Well, I have some in my grow out pen. So we also spent time looking over our birds that weren't really chicks anymore but they weren't full grown either. They haven't told us yet if they're hens or roos. But the other day I noticed that they are getting close to telling us. The roos are starting to get a comb, but the hens not-so-much yet. So that's a clue. And then the neck feathers are showing up male or female. Roos have more pointy neck feathers and the hens are more rounded. So there's clue number two. And so far we didn't see saddle feathers on our roos. But that will be the next clue. I'm pretty confident that we've found hens for my neighbor. If not, they are just a mile up the road, so we'll get it fixed. 

But then a little bit of excitement happened. I saw our cat was messing around in the grass, maybe a hole in the ground? Then Jadyn calls out to me... "Domino caught a mouse! Or is it a rabbit? What sound do bunnies make?" I said, "they scream." "Maybe its a bunny then." I am trying to figure it out. I'm inside the goat pen, and Domino is not. But it kind of looks like his captive has four legs. And although mice have four legs, you can't usually see them from any kind of distance. Just then, the tom who has adopted us (and apparently us him as well since my daughter named him), James, comes after Domino. Domino is a fixed, small cat; James is neither of those things. Domino panics and drops his prey. So I scramble out of the goat pen to try to find this little critter. Me and a whole bunch of other farm cats. I found him because a crowd had started to gather of at least three cats, not yet pouncing or playing, just gathering with an abundance of curiosity. I snatched up that baby bunny. He was so tiny. So atleast for tonight we are bunny rescuers. I will call the zoo in the morning and see if they can rehab him. I've done a little bit of reading tonight. He had some goat milk and by some articles it was adequate, and some articles say it is not enough. But rabbits are not like cats. They don't need to eat every couple hours. Thank God. Wild rabbit babies only eat once or twice a day. That's it. Goat's milk is hella versatile. We were so grateful last summer when we had kittens and we got the dairy goat. Becasue KMR is expensive! Ironically enough, that's what is recommended for the bunny too. Kitten Replacement Milk or goat milk. So I thawed some goat milk out and coaxed the baby to drink. There was one moment when my hand slipped an squeezed a little more than I meant to and there's always a chance I got that baby too much liquid and he aspirated. But I'm praying not. We worried about him being warm enough. But from what I read, it's more worrisome to get them overheated. So while it's cooler in the backroom, I don't want him to overheat. What I fixed up for him is one of our brooder cages for chicks with the not-as-hot bulb in the heat lamp. And it said to put them somewhere dark. With the heat lamp plugged in, there's an abundance of light and my makeshift burrow (a small trashcan) still was pretty lit. So I also covered that with cardboard to make the inside more night-like. I'll have to check it in a minute to make sure that bulb is far enough away from the cardboard. Anyway.... that was exciting, exhilirating, exhausting. That was my day. 

    

Bunny's current habitat

 

Brain Mush...

What slice of my life do I want to share with you all tonight? There's a thunderstorm in my brain tonight. A lot of the time when my brain gets cloudy and foggy, I blame the menopause. But tonight is more. The pause of Meno might play a part, but those clouds don't usually throw lightning and rattle off thunder. My mind and heart are connected. My thoughts are muddled in the middle of my heart. If that makes sense. And honestly tonight, if it doesn't make sense, that might be perfect.

I didn't want to write about this. Emotion and feelings. But they have flared up, like the flare of a disorder or disease. And are affecting my ability to think clearly. I'm determined to post something tonight. I missed the first two days of the month. I don't want to miss any more. 

It started in the car. My kiddo and I were talking and then the feelings start getting hurt and words get said. And then I get up in my head. Next I have to overthink for awhile. Then comes the beating up of self. And sadness. In roll the clouds. Fog. Thick and dense and damp. And my thoughts are mush. I'm in the kitchen crying I can't remember why I'm crying. I remember the feeling I was experiencing, but not the thoughts. No clear, concise description of events is lying around. 

So here I sit, determined to write, pound the keys, and to post. But the clarity. it's lacking. So today is drawing to a close. It's midnight here. I guess I should sleep. In spite of my disappointing blog post.  

What I’m Loving Right Now

 I forgot about this format until I saw someone use it the other night. I’m substitute teaching today. Right now actually. Kind of weird. Today I am a building float for intervention meetings for teachers. Right now I am in 6th grade. There are two paras in here helping me run this class. It’s getting loud. The natives are getting restless. Can you blame them? It’s early afternoon on a Friday and their job right now is to finish up any unfinished work. Spring break is still a week away. Today is the first day this week that the weather has been Spring-like. Tonight should be a classic spring night in Kansas, it’s humid and warm and storms are on the agenda. But what I’m loving right now…. 

• New sneakers. I’ve been subbing for about 15 months and I have been promising myself decent shoes for the job since day one. Heaven only knows why I ordered cream colored tennies but I think they look amazing right now. Fingers crossed I can remember not wear them at home. Or at work? Most of our school playgrounds are covered in "mulch" made of tires. Those pretty almost white shoes will get black all over them. *big sigh* But I do think they are pretty.

• My headlamp for evening chore time. I received this as a Christmas gift this last year. I promptly failed to read all the directions before using it and after one use it stopped working. Now I finally have that one replaced and let me tell you, having the use of both hands and not worrying about dropping phone or flashlight is an amazing freedom at chore time.  

Never mind how goofy I look! 

• My rainbow flock is also something I love. We have decided to call them our rainbow flock because we’re always on the quest for more rainbow colors to add to our egg colors. Currently we have 3 colors of brown eggs… a very light brown, almost a peachy/pink color; a medium brown (some of them with speckles, so does that mean there’s actually 4 brown colors?); and the dark brown eggs of the copper marans. We don’t have any true blues right now. But we have an aqua greenish bluefish color that I obviously don't really know how to describe. Greens, we have a definitive two different shades of green, but there are the "sometimes" colors too.... we certainly have a rich olive green, not super dark, I think "rich" is the best descriptor; and a pale, pastel green. The sometimes are.... sometimes we have an inbetween green and sometimes we have speckles on the medium/in-between green color as well as on the pale/pastel green color. I'm on a quest for a darker brown, that black copper maran color that is almost red, a white egg, and a richer blue. These colors for sure. But the eggs below are a really great start and I think we have gorgeous rainbow spectrum eggs. 

Notice the dark browns, they have speckles today, and the pinkish color? and there are a couple that look blue-ish. 

This is the same carton. The lighting is a little different. I just wanted to show the different coloring better. or differently at least.  

• hatching chicks. I love when it's hatch day or nearly hatch day. Silkies usually hatch a couple days early. But my last hatch was late. And this one looks to be as well. Tonight marks 0 more days until hatch. And I have one egg hatching. It is a thrill. On lockdown day I candled them and there were a lot that were full. Last night I had one egg pipped. Tonight it is zipped. Idk if that is a technical term or a Carrie Horn specialty, but that's what I called them when theres a line that looks like the shell is being unzipped to let the chick out. 

See how the egg in the upper left is "zipped" or has a line cracked open? That little guy is trying to break free from the confines that imprison him!

• are these kittens! They have my heart! They are sweet and spunky and cuddly and getting more and more playful. And who doesn't love a kitten?!

This is the little babe that was out in the rain last night! 

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A tiny blessing in a torrential rain storm

 Tonight at chore time, the sky was clouded over and shrouded in fog. It started closing in. Then the thunder started and kept getting closer, and louder... and the sky closed in on me and it was eerie and ominous. The lightning getting ever closer. And I have to tell you a little truth here. I'm afraid of lightning. So the closer it got, the louder the thunder, the more I was shaking in my boots. One of the goats, Marlie, decided tonight would be a good night not to cooperate. As she is rebelliously determined not to be kept in the gate, she pushes past me, and determinedly escaped to do as she pleased outside the gate. And the anxiety is welling up inside me as the thunder rolls in closer and the lightning strikes brighter, closer.... I determine not to panic. Sometimes determination isn't enough. But tonight I was able to choke it down. and smooth it out and not yell at animals. I knew if I did lose it, the animals would feel my fear and my chances to beat the rain would dwindle down to nothing. Everyone got fed, everyone got water. Eggs... collected. Hay... pitched. Dog.... put up. As I pull the wagon back to the house, grateful as ever for my headlamp, I am caught up by the glowing eyes in the weeds and all around me giving away the locations of my cats. Almost there. But I have to put away the feed buckets, the water bottles (we're hauling water because my dog thinks he's still a puppy, and he ate the hoses... oh boy), and grab the cat food and change the cats' water. The ducks love the cat water bowl and every night its full of mud because of the dirty ducks. But ducks are up for night, chicken are up, dog and goats are put away... even Marlie is back in the pen. Hurry, hurry Carrie. Get it done!

I rush in as the rain start to pound and pour. Just before heading to grab cat food, I open the door to the kitten crate. I rush in to hurry and grab the last of what I need. I go in the house, I hear loud pounding. Is it hail? I fill the scoop for the outdoor cats' food. I open the door to head back out, and there's a curtain raining down, rolling off the roof, in a sheet in front of me. The pounding was just rain, no hail. It was literally raining that hard. I feed momma cat and kittens in the crate, and the door is still open. I go in search of a cardboard box or some sort of shelter to keep the cats food in a dry space for them. They have scattered in the midst of torrential rain. I grab a cardboard box and fashion a shelter to the sound of a kitten crying desperately. I don't see any kittens, I keep saying "its okay baby, you're gonna be okay." And I turn to head inside and the baby is still just crying! I look down and there is a baby, not in the safety of the crate, but in the rain. The rain is coming down so fast that it's rising like flood water. And this bitty baby is here in the thick of it all. Water coming up around her body, drenched and scared. I scoop her up and bring her in with me. She's cold and wet. She's scared. and shaking. I found a towel to wrap her up, and soon she's tucked in and we're passing her around, taking turns holding her. I heated up my rice warmer and put it underneath her on my lap. She falls into an exhausted sleep. Being cold, wet, and scared is exhausting such a little peanut. I adore watching her, knowing she's safe and warm now, and loving to dote on a kitten. Kittens just bring a little peace to my soul. And it is so fulfilling when a little bitty kitty purrs at your touch. 

A cold wet kitten

We're both pretty cold and wet here

It's exhausting to be so cold and wet and scared

After a little nap, it's playtime!

March... in she marches with her gloom and doom.

 I really wanted to write a poem, but the words are not flowing the way they used to. It's a dreary March day. I think today sums up my thoughts about March nicely.... cold (for Spring, not winter-cold), dreary, and wet. Depressing. Come on April, are you here yet? Just kidding. I am old enough now that I have decided not to wish my life away. I'm not so old as my Mom's generation, having their friends and neighbors pass away and attending funerals every week or so. So there is that to be grateful for. 

Spring is Beginning

This March morning is wet and rainy

a damp fills the air 

and cold clings to the dampness.

March days like these

feel like grief...

depressing, overwhelming and sad.

Days like these

avoidance is my friend.

I just want to sip my coffee

surrounded by my furry little loves

and not face the realities of farm life. 

But alas,

the goats and chickens and ducks

did not feed themselves

this cold, wet, dreary day.

The big dog needs attention

and there's dishes to do

and chicks to prepare for.

Laundry to fold

and meals to make.

Dreams of escape

to a place of luxury and leisure

are just that...

dreams.

So I'll steal a moment,

an hour,

a moment in time.

I'll dig deep and find some gratitude

for the life I live

and the indulgences I have.

I'll face this cold, dank day

fueled by coffee and courage;

I'll beat back the demons

that this weather summons.

Blessed are the women

who brave the ugliness of Spring

before the rewards...

the flowers, sunshine and bees.

-Carrie Horn

March 2026

Slice of Life Challenge....

 Whelp! Here I am, late to the party. Already. I have been looking forward to the SOL challenge and couldn't wait for March to finally get here. Now I've completely missed two days and if I don't get it in gear, I'm going to miss the 3rd day. 

So many thoughts swirling through my head. I think about how quickly life passes. How much I want to achieve. What I did accomplish today. What I didn't. 

Here are a few moments in today's slice of life.... 

• Today I substitute taught in Kinder. I subbed 1/2 the day in one K class, and the rest of the day in the other K class. In the first class, we talked a lot about how when you're a student and there's a sub, you have to learn to go with the flow. During tiered learning time, one little girl started to interrupt me to tell me I was doing something wrong. But then she stopped and said, "that's one of those 'go with the flow' things. Isnt it?" My heart was happy.
• We have baby silkies set to hatch in a few days. This will be fun. I love baby chicks of all kinds. Big birds, little bitty bantam birds, and everything in between. Tonight was a final candling. I saw a lot of dark mass and blood vessels. Yay. I am getting antsy. From now until I am over the wait for chicks, I will be making chirpy noises every time I go into the kitchen. Yes, I have an incubator in the kitchen. Two if we are telling the truth.
• Baby kitties. My daughter acknowledged today that some of them really are getting cute. I knew that! We have a lot of cats currently. I am still trying to recover finances from the January spaying of four of my favorite cats. Here's the dilemma. Even if I could spay the rest of the females (3), should I? Last year, at final count, we had lost 8 cats to the harsh realities of life as a farm cat. Currently we have 10 (11 if you count the tomcat) outdoor cats. If we count the latest set of 5 adorable babies, then we have 15 (16) outdoor cats. The four I had spayed or my favorites. I know, I know.... you're not supposed to have favorites. But two of them were bottle babies. Their mom was apparently one of the casualties of farm life. They love me like I'm their mom. I love them like I'm their mom. The other two faves, they were 6 weeks and weaned or at least in the process of weaning when their mom didn't come home one morning. They are sweet and loving as the bottle babies. 

As I sit here trying to pound this out of my head and onto the paper, I keep drifting off. dozing. And the more I doze and the longer it takes to type, the more likely I am not to post this in time. Ugh, I hope I don't miss out. 

A recent sub day when I was a librarian. Today I was in Kindergarten, which is my favorite grade to teach.

These are the youngest chicks we have currently. 

My daughter, Jadyn, holding her two favorite kittens. 

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Transformation from ultra-conservative to leftist liberal

 How does this even happen? Someone being very conservative transforming over time to someone with a bleeding heart? One of those crazy ass, bleeding heart liberals? This has really been on my mind lately. You know, some of the people that I count among my friends, who knew me way back when, knew me as the person who used words like "snowflakes," and"libtards." I tried to figure out what other words I might have used "back then" but my memory fails and using the internet to find terms was like reading gibberish. I couldn't even figure out what some of the insults directed at liberals were saying or what the meaning was. Ironically some of the current descriptives I count as compliments when I hear them. Like... bleeding heart liberal. or my favorite: Woke. I might have to order that t-shirt that says "Woke: its not the insult you think it is." 

One of the things I've been pondering lately is that I've always been a "bleeding heart." Some of my causes that are near and dear to my heart and have been for as long as I can remember, are issues and causes that are generally liberal causes. Women and children first of all. In some ways I've always been a feminist. Though there were years when I was far from it. But I've never really bought into gender roles. And my dad wasn't really one to promote them either. In some ways, Mom and Dad's marriage was oh-so-traditional. But in regard to some of those roles, my Mom is the one who ram-rodded those roles. My dad was super independent. He could cook. He could clean. He could do his laundry. He wasn't afraid to do dishes. But it wasn't really allowed in our home. Mom did those things. If he did do them, she micro-managed him and it had to be really discouraging. Another way that dad didn't really buy into gender roles was in regard to the way he allowed me to be the tomboy/Daddy's girl that I was. My favorite thing was to be wherever Dad was. If he was cutting wood, I wanted to be there. If he was hunting, I was there. Building race car? Yes, please, let me tag along. Building demo derby cars, I was there. Fishing? Take me! Farming? Let me ride along. There wasn't really a line of what girls or boys did. Having said that, though, my dad also made sure that I (and the other women he mentored or took under his wing) had plenty of support. He taught me how to hunt, but I've never field-dressed a deer. I never had to. He taught me how to fish, but guess who had to get the hook out when they swallowed it? Dad taught me about racing, but I've never had to change a tire. or changed my oil. Know what else? I never loaded a shotgun shell or a rifle shell. But dad did. He made many reloads. I also didn't have to pay for ammo. And to be honest, a few weeks ago when I had to get ammo for my .380, it was the first time I'd bought shells for it. Just a few ways my daddy took care of me. And as much as I appreciate it, I wish I'd learned to do some of this stuff earlier. Because guess what? Dad's not here to do it now. And there's no one else. I probably wouldn't appreciate someone else's efforts anyway. Because I'm like a toddler... "I want to do it myself!"

There's both a freedom and a fear involved with following what is in my heart, culturally and politically. Fear that my family will reject me, judge me, and deem as one headed straight for hell. It's funny that I still worry and squirm about that. I don't think the dreaded and mysterious "they" are right. So why does it influence me? I blame my own self-doubt. Can I really trust my gut and instincts to make the decisions that are best for me? 

I've been reading the bible through with a small, very small, group of friends. We don't have a study guide or devotional or reference books. We just read, and respond. What are our thoughts? What is God saying to us? What questions does the passage leave us with? I like it because it's not mucked up and mired down with opinion and rhetoric. I fell like I'm learning a lot. One of the things I'm learning is that I am not so very wrong. The gospel talks a LOT about the poor, the immigrant, the widow, the orphan, the underdogs, the dregs. And guess what? It doesn't say throw them in jail just for being poor or being immigrants, or any of those other groups of demigraphics that Middle and Upper class Americans find so deplorable. And actually, the indoctrination runs deep. I see other poor people harshly judging their fellow citizens in poverty. Why? Don't we have other things to worry about? Where do passages like  The Lord's Prayer fit? Let me throw a little of this at y'all: 

 "Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
10 your kingdom come,
your will be done,
    on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us today our daily bread.
12 And forgive us our debts,
    as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,[a]
    but deliver us from the evil one."

This is from the NIV, Matthew 6, verses 9-13. 

Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. I owe a lot of debts. I mistreated my children. I have a very oppositional child. One who baffles me to this day. But one reason we come to be at odds has to do with that we are BOTH oppositional. And the words spoken, I might agree to from someone else, but if she says them, I will say the opposite. Yuck. I hate it that there is an ounce of truth there. But I owe her. One of the things she is stubborn about... growing an honest relationship with me. And she will not give up or give in. No matter how hard I dig my toes in. I am so, so grateful for this and I'm grateful to God for her. She shows me regularly what my shortcomings are (and I am seldom grateful for this as it is happening... it feels wretched), and I then have the opportunity to come before God and ask him to forgive this fiesty, oppositional part of me. Then I have the opportunity to go to said child and ask her to forgive me. And she does. So what business do I have judging her for the very same behaviors?! Wouldn't it be so much better if I sought to understand her? If I practiced empathy? If I forgave her as she forgave me? Because what is she (and God) decided to treat me the way I treat others (her in particular)? Ouch. I would be doomed. It's in my best interest to adopt compassion. I guess that means that I am still self-centered. If I'm being honest. But if I can get to that place of honesty, I can handle that level of self-centeredness that treats other people better because I want God to treat me with love and compassion. and forgiveness. 

I can apply that anywhere. How do I like it when I am at the grocery store and have to put things back because I don't have enough money? How does it feel? There's a lot of shame that goes with that. Even on the days that the cashier and/or other shoppers don't project shaming behaviors and attitudes onto me. It's okay, I got it covered. I will shame myself into the ground. 

I look back in Matthew to chapter 7. Verses 1 and 2 say this:

 “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." This is also out of the NIV.

Well, I'm not sure I can even expand on that. Isn't that a complete thought? My bleeding heart cries about this very thing in regard to how immigrants are treated in America, how harshly divorcees are judged (especially within the church!), how we regard the poor or less fortunate, how we make distinctions in intelligence and qualify people by the color of their skin! I can go on. But the more of the Bible that I read, the more I think I'm on the right soapbox. It's not about "every man for him/her self". I don't find that to be a teaching of christ. I feel that is where the Republican party has landed. And blindly so. But that is fodder for another post. 

borrowed from the internet.