Two-thirty in the afternoon and I was tired of working. Thinking I am the boss around here, well, as long as I am out of the house and don't think out loud, I just headed to the house. I dusted off my pants, cleaned the stuff off my boots and went in the back door of the house. I was so careful to be quiet and not disturb anyone who might be cooking or doing some important chore. I was washed up and sitting in my recliner, air conditioner blowing nice cool air all over me and the newspaper in my lap like a boss ought to be, relaxed after a hard day's labor.
The lull of the air blowing over me put me right to sleep. A yell behind me woke me right up! I was as startled as she was, I scared her and she yelled and scared me. Now I was pretty sure she was gonna hit me with that wet rag she had in her hand. She didn't and I was grateful, explaining that it was so muggy and hot that I decided to end my day a little early. When she regained her composure, she laughed and soon returned to the living room with her magazine to rest a spell.
We are a few any more in America. Small farms, raising beef and living in the country are becoming fewer each year. I read in agriculture materials that a family ranch or farm is so unusual, the public likes to read articles about their lives. Believe me, the life of small beef producers is pretty calm and not worth the paper and ink to write about. But, the perks are huge!
Here I was, boots off, resting in the living room and it was about three in the afternoon. Sure, there were still some things undone, but some things were taken care of and, by this point in my life, I figured I might need to take better care of me. The years and wrecks add up and I didn't give up, just stopped for a little while.
I mentioned the trip south to take some things to my close relative's family and we decided to go this week as the hay was up, the fall calvers were still not quite due and the offspring were all well and able. It takes about three days to make the trip, one to go, one to deliver the bounty and one to come home.
We arrange a room in the one motel in the town and take our own towels because we are about the only roomers they have and the things begin to smell sorta dusty! We made the reservation, packed up two ice chests with meat from our freezer and six boxes from the grocery store containing flour, sugar and Crisco shortening. I was in charge of doing the goodies for the youngsters and, so, they will be happy with the junk box.
You know we have a brother-in-law and some cousins that are not able to work. They are only able to hunt and fish and play the fiddles and French harps in the evenings. Good-natured as they are, they are about the most worthless bunch of fellers breathing air. But they are loved and that seems to be what counts, so we go yearly and deliver to them.
The kids are a wonderful part of the journey. Smart children, and so mannerly to their parents and us, and we always encourage them to continue their education. It is hard on kids who have less than others to want to stay in school and make a stab at the world.
It is my opinion, and we all have one, blessings from the Lord are to be shared. We are workers and yet all we have is provided by Him, and I suppose I really am not the boss as I would like to claim. Sure, I can direct the daily chores and make loud noises about what I want to be done and when to do it, but the Lord is the one who is allowing it. Visiting those without and seeing the contrast is a good lesson for all of us, and I sure am proud we can share!
Remember, humidity is miserable when it is so high, but rain is sure good for grass!
Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.Editorial on 09/04/2019
Print Headline: Blessings from the Lord are to be shared