I spent several hours today finishing up the yard and garden for winter. I mixed the compost (magic!) with the soil, and piled the (way more than I thought) rest of the leaves into a giant heap. Every inch of my body aches from this endeavor. But! I get to cross several things off of my to-do list. Also, mopping and ironing the curtains. I detest mopping, and ironing the curtains is way more essential than you might imagine. Let me repeat, compost is magic.

Meanwhile, there is a nearly unbearably sad situation unfolding in our lives about which I cannot elaborate, at least for now. Please don’t worry about me, and I’m not sure why I even wrote that, except that I feel like I’m oozing woe. If you notice the trail of despair in my wake, know that I am ok. As a person whose emotions tend to be very even, I’m not always sure what to do with strong feelings. Remember in Sunday School when the teacher asked for prayer requests, and kids would ask for prayer for their “unspoken” problems? Would you? Thanks.

About lindswing

Once upon a time, I was born, grew up a little bit, did some stuff, and now I have a blog. I deeply respect the Oxford comma.
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One Response to

  1. Louis says:

    You might be able to say that compost transmogrifies. Think about it.

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