February 28 – “Rub dirt on it”

I had to check the calendar this morning to see if we were still in February.  Also checked to see if tomorrow was March or if this was Leap Year again.  This whole time thing is so hard to keep up with.  I’m really glad I live on the Island.  Not much use for time around here.

I started my day yesterday trying to catch up with myself after being gone for nine days.  I had to get the computer work done for next Sunday and I had to address birthday cards.  And we managed to fit in a two mile hike around the neighborhood.  Feels kind of silly to call a walk around the Island a hike after spending a few days at Big Bend.  There we did four or five hikes a day and all of them involved going uphill at some point.  “Uphill” is not really a word here in Galveston.  Unless, of course, you are talking about a particularly large sand dune.

So.  Once I got past my mark for computer work, Chris was already outside working in the yard.  That was my cue to grab the lawn mower and join her.  Well, actually that would more accurately be, avoid her.  Didn’t want any of the piles and piles of grass and weeds that I was wading through to get in her way when she has a plan of action.  I did eventually join her, though.  Well, in a sense.  As I turned the corner with the mower at one point, there she was, standing in my way.  Why?  She was protecting the random sunflowers that have started coming up in the middle of the back yard.  Happens every year.  I usually tend to three or four of them until they seed out.  But this year she had other plans.  This year she wants a giant sunflower arbor tracking the concrete stepping stones we have back there.  That’s going to be a chore.  It should look interesting, though, if enough of them survive the nearby mowings and weed-eating. 

The real problem of the day was the stinging nettles in the backyard.  They got us.  I had to take off my ring, and my arm hurt the rest of the night.  I looked up treatment.  My favorite suggestion was on WebMD.  Rub dirt on it.  Yep.  Really said that.  Guess my Dad was right all along.  Bottom line for all the suggestions, though, was “Wait 24 hours.  If it still hurts, you might be allergic to them.”  Great.  And what event could possibly have caused such a horrible acquisition of painful stimuli?  It happened when I started pulling weeds to create that sunflower seed arbor for Chris.  Ouch on several different levels.  No promises on how such a thing might end up looking.  Right now it’s a designated pathway for the dogs. 

Psalms 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Father, thank you for the miracle of time.  The stinging has subsided in my arm.  And thanks again for Chris’ ability to see possibilities in things that aren’t there yet.  Amen.