Music or Noise?

 Music or Noise?

 

When my dad told me that he could no longer understand the words to songs, it made me sad because he had always really enjoyed music. Now he was not in any way whatsoever musical as far as singing or even all that great at keeping time with whatever instrument he played—the guitar, the French harp, or a set of “bones.” But he liked to get together with others to play and listen. He eventually told me that music became just so much noise because of his inability to hear much of anything. Some men might think that inability to hear kept a man from having to listen to a nagging wife, but that would have been the only advantage for Dad. He gave all his tapes and music to my husband because he knew they were useless to him. Well, it was not much better for Lewis because the noise for 30 years around heavy equipment had long since ruined his hearing. But for Lewis it was much easier because we got him some of those headphones for the TV so he did not have to entertain the entire neighborhood while watching football or whatever. Today Sterling told me that he had to give up playing his guitar at church since the “music” was those seven-eleven songs of praise that did not have a real tune but ended up just so much noise to him. That made me sad. We both can remember the old hymns from our Baptist upbringing and can still recall most of the words. Ah, such is life. [Seven-eleven songs are generally eleven words sung seven times or vice versa.]

 

Certainly hope that Northwest Arkansas has a huge bunch of bluebirds because Sterling has built enough bird houses for everyone of them and their uncles’ adopted children. Think the church plans to sell them to raise money for the kids’ program. Now we just need to get Sterling interested in building other kinds of bird houses or maybe rabbit hutches! Maybe he could build a different kind of little chicken tractor to move around their place to keep the grass mowed the easy way. It would not take many hens to keep them in eggs and to keep the grass cut down.

 

While it is 50 degrees of cold and wet up in Arkansas, it is 80 degrees of warm and too danged dry here on Dickerson Hill. We need a rain so badly. The ground is cracking open in the east lots. May go out there and find a chicken stuck in one of those cracks! The rain gauge has a crack in it, so it is pretty useless anyway, but it would be nice to see it wet once in a while! Ah, the weather reports are just as varied as the birds flying through—spotted and briefly vanishing.

 

Robins always make me smile. The meadowlarks and robins were the happier birds of my childhood. The meadowlarks have just about vanished around this part of the country. Seeing one is about as uplifting as seeing a horny toad. We enjoyed horny toads all the time when we were children. We learned how to pet one and rub its back to put it to “sleep.” But then, Harvester ants were plentiful and no one used poisons for insects back then. Now everything has been poisoned or otherwise starved of their natural sources of food. A lady we know has two ant hills that she guards over with fury if anyone pulls into her yard. She is afraid the hills will collapse and the ants will die. Can’t have horny toads without those ants—and ONLY that kind of ants. Not sure that fire ants do anything other than aerate the soil, but you will never find me protecting one of their hills. Mean suckers leave horrible blisters and infected places where they bite!

 

Jennifer sent me a picture of the mint that she has growing in her flower bed. Mine is not doing very good right now. Really need to water the herb bed to see if it can be brought back. Sigh. Looks like it will be the start of another drought at this rate.

 

Filled up a big tub out back for the dogs. Sylvia said, “Why, thank you Ma’am!” She got in twice and turned around but did not lie down in it. Thompson had a drink but no wading for him. Guess which one came in and rolled on the couch where it is covered for the dogs. Ah, well, love ‘em.

 

May not get more than three eggs tomorrow, but found eleven of them out there today! Lance was concerned about taking all the eggs in my house yesterday. Not sure if he thought about the fact that they just don’t suddenly stop laying unless there is an excellent reason. He even found some on the top shelf when he cleaned out the coop! Gave those two eggs to my dogs. No telling how long that they had been there.

 

Made the mistake of reading some news today. May God forgive His children for their insanity and cruelty! May those in the Ukraine be given the help they need to survive and restore their lives. Four million folks have left that place in order to protect their families—leaving behind all the men that are 18 to 27 years old. All we may be able to do individually is pray, but God can and does make a difference when we ask. Let us ASK!

 

Before the wind comes back as a gale force again, let us be grateful for still mornings, the flowers, the songs of the birds, and the peace and security of our lives. Rest and be restored in the faith that God will see us through to His purpose. You are loved.