It was a chaotic day for us from the beginning. First, we got a letter from the post office giving us two weeks to replace our aging mailbox, or our mail would be cut off (everyone in town got a similar message; the words said “please,” but the tone was just aggressive. The box does need to be replaced, and we are scrambling to do that tomorrow.   Our friend Mike Conklin is on the way to the rescue, as always.

Meantime, the rats keep coming. We’ve killed three already and are ordering different traps and rat stoppers and preparing for a longer haul. They are apparently all over town following all of the rain and rot.

We went to Saratoga in the morning to have my foot checked, and the diagnosis was great. It was all downhill from there. This was a nail and foot specialist who makes sure my toes, nails, and feet are looking good. They are.

I’m coming to the end of my concussion trauma, but I had a wave of dizziness so strong today I had to lie down.

When I did, we had to take Zip to the vet for more shots. Maria had to go.

I woke up and thought Zip was in trouble and rushed over there. I brought laughter and joy to everyone on the staff. I deserved it, too.

The issues just kept coming. We have a broken slate on the barn roof that needs to be fixed, a compost toilet awaiting installation upstairs for months, and $1,000 in blog maintenance for last month alone. We have four sheep that need shearing. Our pastures urgently need brushogging before the ground freezes up. Our brushogger is recovering from a serious tractor mishap.

I am juggling doctor appointments all over the place – checking on the foot, on my hopefully shattered kidney stone, and soon, an implant filling a hole in my mouth—lots of -x-rays.

I’ve also got four appointments with a chiropractor working to help my banged-up back from when I fell a month ago. I need to see a dental specialist about my forthcoming implant. I also have my bi-annual visit with a pulmonologist to ensure my sleep apnea machine is doing the job. It is down from 80 heart events an hour to o.1 an hour most nights. I wish he could take my word for it. Modern medicine doesn’t work that way.

And some new medicines are wreaking havoc with my diabetes numbers. I don’t want to even mention the news, with is both disturbing and heartbreaking. It’s an awful backdrop for normalcy and peace.

I guess I didn’t land softly when I went down. It still hurts to breath. We are both spinning to deal with all of this. Maria has more than 100 pieces of wool to label, process, and sell, and winter is breathing heavy on us and will be here shortly. She has been helping to care for me for weeks.

We are not in crisis, we are in life. We talk about the idea of “nonfear,” the basis of real happiness. If we live in  fear, we can’t be completely happy.  When we understand that our spirits cannot be destroyed, we are liberated from fear. It is great relief. Nonfear is the ultimate joy.

Can we handle all of this? As the Rat Czar and recovering hospital patient, I say yes. We can handle this and more, and are accepting of the chance. I am always conscious of the awful suffering of others, so much worse than mine.

Grace is not about having no problems, it’s about handling them with calm and patience and dignity. In many ways, I am healthier than ever before. This is a time for me to be strong, not weak or uncertain.

I think we are going to sit and meditate together tonight to settle down. We love our farm, but sometimes life just has its own ideas. I accept life and am at its mercy.

These photos are from June, and I am happy to post them. They brighten the night.

I’m proud of my summer flowers. Many speak to grace and gentleness and soft beauty. They are refreding and comforting to see today. Good night. I’m looking for peace and rest. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and a lot of life to live.