I did something unusual for me. I got up at six o’clock, something I very rarely do nowadays. I have become a lay-a-bed in the past year or so because I have been staying up late at night. Last night I sat outside and watched the lightening bugs flit around in my garden. It was magical. They would light up all at once and then there would be a short period when few were lit up and then they would light up again.
Anyway, I jumped out of bed this morning, ready to go, got dressed and out the door to do some chores before it got too hot. David was still asleep. He is almost always up before me. I was thinking he was supposed to be at work at five, but his employer changes his hours often, so I just thought he was going in later. I weeded a flower bed and spread some mulch. I watered the flowers. I took out an unwanted bush that had grown up on the fence. I trimmed down a small tree that had popped up in one of my flower beds. Then I went inside and it was seven o’clock and I thought if David was going in later, he should be up by now so I went upstairs and he was still asleep. I really hated to wake him, but I was wondering when he was suppose to go into work.
“You didn’t have to go in at five this morning?” I asked him as he opened his eyes. “No, I go in at ten,” he replied. “That’s your Saturday hours,” I told him. “It’s not Saturday?!” he asked and jumped out of bed. He was dressed and out the door in fifteen minutes. As soon as he left the phone rang. It was his manager wanting to know if something had happened to him. I told her what had happened and that he was on his way. I think this is only about the second time David has ever been late for work. He prides himself on arriving early. This will bother him for days. He was also hoping they would keep him for two hours longer to make up for the two hours he missed this morning. Yes, he has a very strong work ethic.
After he left for work, I went out and cleaned out the chicken house, spread some new bedding, raked their yard and fed and watered the chooks.
Then I decided I would do something else I have not done in years. I took a spa day for myself. Not a go to a spa and get myself pampered. My spa day was a long soak in the tub, washing my hair and reading all morning. I very rarely get time to read during the day. I do most of my reading in bed at night. So this was a treat for me today. I am reading a very interesting book by Vernon Coleman. He has become one of my favorite authors. He not only writes fiction, but he writes about the medical profession, politics and the EU, which he hates. He was a general practitioner in England until he retired to write. I didn’t know if a doctor retires in England, he loses his license to practice medicine ever again. Is it that way here in the United States? Sounds like a horrible idea to me, but it’s one of the EU’s laws. Anyway, I read one of his books all morning and enjoyed myself immensely. Maybe I need to do this more often. When I was a girl, I would read all day sometimes swinging on the porch swing. Now that I’m retired(if a homemaker can ever really be retired) I should find more time to read.
I got this book and DVD in the mail today.
At the Creation Museum near Cincinnati, Ohio, they have built an exact replica of the ark as described in the Bible. It’s longer than a football field and four stories high. I sent some money to help it get built and received these for donating. Very interesting. It opens on our wedding anniversary, but I think we will wait a while to go see it until the newness wears off it, because the crowds to see it will probably be enormous for the first few months.
This Sunday is Father’s Day. I lost my daddy decades ago, but I still think of him every day and miss him. I know he’s in heaven, probably building something or taking care of animals. My daddy taught me a strong work ethic. Because of him, I am not afraid to work. In fact, I love to work. He was a farmer and a factory worker. He raised six children with my mother and I think all of us turned out pretty good. He saw some tragedies in his life that would have broken weaker men. He was a Christian. He got saved later in life and I remember when it happened. Now my father was always a kind and good man, but he could swear with the best of them, especially if he hit his finger with a hammer or some such accident and he smoked cigarettes continually. The day he was saved, all swearing disappeared, the cigarettes were tossed and he started going to church every week and became very active in the church. Before that, he only attended once in a while. I kept waiting to hear him swear, but I never heard him say a swear word for the rest of his life. He took his salvation seriously, as we all should do and lived it until the day he died.
My father showed no favoritism to any of his children. I loved being out with him when he was working especially when he was in the milking parlor where he taught me how to milk cows by hand. Later he got milking machines. He showed me how to squirt milk into a barn cat’s mouth from several feet away. We kids always loved it when he took some time out from his always busy days to play basketball with my brothers in the haymow. Daddy didn’t have a lot of time in his days. He was always working. Later in his life he slowed down a little and he would come in, lay down on the floor and take a short nap. Then it would be up and out and working again. He was the love of my mother’s life and when he died, she lost her best friend, lover and constant companion. She was never truly happy after that and I understand her completely.
I received some books of my mother’s a while back and in one of the books that was like a high school annual, my daddy wrote my mother a poem. From the words, it appeared they weren’t dating yet and daddy was trying to get my mother to like him. Later they would date and elope and were married for over fifty years.
My daddy was a very handsome man. He had very blue eyes. I remember once when I was about five years old, I did something naughty and all daddy had to do was cock an eyebrow and look at me sternly and it would crush me. I only got one spanking from my daddy in my life and it was when I was grown and old enough to know better. I said something very disrespectful to my mother and my daddy whipped around, threw me over his lap and gave me a few whacks on the bottom. I was more embarrassed than hurt, but daddy was not going to stand by and hear his wife talked to in that manner. Now that I look back, I sure deserved that spanking and I have never held it against my daddy. In fact, I rather admire him for sticking up for his wife, which every man should do.
One of my grandsons reminds me so much of my father. I tell him that all the time. Daddy had delicate features, but was one of the toughest and strongest men I know. He wasn’t a big man either, but was tall in stature in my eyes.
Happy Father’s Day, daddy. I know you are watching over me and I will see you again one day. Say hi and give my love to mother, too. Bye.
