Red Dirt Farm and Studio

Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the last post.  We are back home and I’m trying to get back to my regular routine.

 

Happy Birthday to Mother Cottage in heaven, she would have been 90 years old today.  I miss her incredible spirit more and more each day.  She taught me to be true to myself, and follow my own path.

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Normally, after a vacation break, I come back feeling renewed, relaxed and full of anticipation of new projects.  This time, not so much.  I’m not sure if it was coming home to broken appliance(s), a new grave under the pear tree or that I was sick for several days after getting home.  Maybe it was all of the above.

Finding my rhythm. 

I’ve struggled with blogging for years, frustrated with the lack of interest from readers, frustrated at myself for not knowing my own direction.  That all seemed to change for me this past summer.  I finally felt ok with blogging and felt I had a good rhythm and enjoyed posting and have really come to enjoy hearing from those readers that show up regularly and share their thoughts and a small part of their life with me.

I guess I just need to acknowledge that I’m going through a slump or a negative energy field or something.  However, I do look forward to getting that rhythm going again, and hearing from y’all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have a multitude of pet cemeteries on our property, it comes with the twenty plus years of animal rescue.  The old pear tree is almost completely full under her base with pets that have passed.  Soon we shall have to pick another location.

Our cat Wynnie, passed away while we were in Florida.  We have an understanding with our house sitter, that she does not tell us about such events until we return from our trip.

Wynnie was the first feral rescue I took on.  She was a tiny kitten bundle of fur and teeth and very sharp needle-like claws that made painful contact with my skin as I reached into the lumber pile at the industrial park where a colony of feral cats lived.  I was on a mission to rescue as many of those kitties as I could.  I guess I wasn’t very good at it because Wynnie was the only one that I was able to save.  That’s how she got her name, she was a winner I said.  It took 12 years until I could pick her up and hold her.  She loved being held, but wanted to jump into my lap, it terrified her when I picked her up.  I often wondered if she remembered me picking her up out of the lumber pile and that fear remained with her.  I’ll never know.  She was a quiet gentle cat, never getting very big.  She got along with everyone and every animal that we brought into our home.  The years passed and I like to think she had a good life here with us.  Now, some twenty years later she is gone and the house is very empty.  Our house sitter lovingly placed Wynnie to rest under the old pear tree.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s all for today.

Thanks for being here.