The full moon slid down the sky into the west early this morning. It was so bright.
I had wanted to stay up and go outside to watch it last night, but alas, had not the wherewithal. It was pretty cloudy, anyway.
Was it the weight of the full moon that crushed my stomach yesterday? The day was so heavy.
I got up, made coffee, made to do lists, milked the cow, washed jars, phoned a friend, spoke to my mom and dad, dug up a mountain of plantain and dock. I even cooked a nice meal for the kids at lunch, trout with a dill cream sauce and asparagus. Read a couple more chapters of the Last Battle with the kids. Distributed Dutch Valley Coop grains.
But it was all hard. Every last bit of it, interspersed with moments of sitting, listening to piano sonatas, stone still.
A guest remarked about how strong I am, how it amazes her.
She didn't see me, afterward, lying down in my bed, crying out to God to "help me, help me, help me."
Today is a new day. The roosters are crowing. The sheep will be out to graze in another half hour. I will milk Coco. Not very strong. Weakly moving forward. Like a hospital patient, getting up out of bed, being cheered on by the nurses as I make the 20 steps down the hall to the nurses station.
Don't worry, it isn't that bad every single minute. But it occasionally feels pretty bad. I thank God for the farm and the kids to give me reason to keep getting up and moving around, even if it is slowly.
By the way, the lambs' tails are dropping off, one by one. They look a bit naked without their floppy tail. I found the geese hissing and snapping as they sit on their unfertilized eggs. I felt sad for them. Maybe we can find some fertilized geese eggs to swap in? The mama hen braved the wind and the cool to take her week old little chickies out for a stroll. They scratched and pecked and stayed close to mama for their first farm lesson. Garden is sprouting. Market season is upon us. Tomorrow is first serious baking day. I am nervous that I will flop. Nervous that I am too tired, sad, etc. But here we are.
Hoping for the same divine energy that causes moons to rise and fall and chicks to hatch to help me have enough. Enough to accomplish the little tasks set before me.
PS I was just going to skip writing because I am afraid that readers will get tired of reading about sad days. But since I am not paying anyone to read this blog, I decided I would keep it real. Even though it is humbling, and I don't want people to worry about me, and think they have to fix everything for me. I guess I wanted some other sad reader to know that when the grief is there, sometimes the occasional bad day turns into a bad week, and from what others tell me, it is a normal part of grieving.