Celebrating One Hundred Walks...

 

It has been one hundred days and one hundred walks since those oh-so-cold and snowy days in February  kept Millie and me off the hilltop trail.  So, today, instead of 1,417 walks which it could have been, it is a mere one hundred.  I had thought I wouldn't keep track anymore, but the habit of writing it on the calendar, along with a few other little facts that are important to  me, has become a happy little habit.  In celebration of the day,  Millie and I mowed the path across the meadow ~ well, at least she went along, sniffing and snuffing of every old animal trail from the night before.  

My daily walks go way back.  Millie is not the first to walk these old hillsides with me.  Before her there was my beloved Nell who lived to be almost seventeen years old.  I suffered greatly when I had to give her up.  She is buried on her favorite old wool rug where the trail starts up the hill, just out the back gate, where I can have a few words with her every day.  I put pretty things on her grave which I think she would like.  

Nell

  

And, before Nell, there was Holly, and before her there was Heidi... I loved them all.   But, my very first dog was Sid.  My mom said they brought her home on my first birthday.  I suppose he was a family dog, but he seemed to like me an awful lot for he was always with me whatever I was doing.  Here he is with me and my cousin, Joy.  

A Rainy Day and a New Blog...

The more I thought about it, the more  it seemed that the dolls and sewing projects should have a room of their own...thus Linnie Butts and Company came into being. and just like that I now have two blogs!  ~~~ a little hidden attic corner where dolls and all things cloth can be...  It's another rainy day here, so a good day to be playing in the attic room.  

Attic toys in great profusion

Lying here in strange confusion

Cut into the memory, like a knife

Smiling dolls and faded cotton

Dusty world I had forgotten

Tell again the story of my life.

~Nana Mouskouri, "Attic Toys"

   I hadn't planned on being here again until the cast was off my arm and hand, but after yesterday's appointment with the doctor, there was a bit of good news to tell.  He modified the cast just a little so  that I now have more mobility with my thumb.  I also bought new scissors that have spring-action design which, along with my newly liberated thumb, is going to allow me to cut fabric three weeks sooner than I thought.  I am so excited!  He was adamant, though, that I should continue to wear the cast for another three weeks.

Mary

 

 

Under the Gorse...

 

"Hobbling badly, Lassie turned round in the shelter under the gorse.  Then she let herself fall heavily to the ground.  She curled herself up and lay silently, her eyes staring through the mass of stalks and tendrils toward the field where the first hint of dawn was showing.  She could travel no farther.  Instinct told her that.  She must stay there.

When human beings are ill, they often make a show of their injuries and parade them so that others may see and give them sympathy.  It is just the reverse with an animal living in its natural state.  Asking no sympathy, deeming rather that weakness of any kind is something to be ashamed of, it crawls away into some hidden corner and there, alone, it awaits the outcome--either recovery or death."  ~Eric Knight's Lassie Come Home

So here I am under the gorse, nursing a broken wrist which I acquired from one careless mistake when helping the hubby in his shop.  Like Lassie I want no sympathy, but, when blogging friend Nook came looking, I thought I should crawl out from under the gorse long enough to let you know where I  have been hiding.

I am doing well, perhaps somewhat like a one-armed paper hanger, but my wrist is improving a bit each day.  I spend lots of time outside soaking up all the good old sunshine vitamin I can get.  And I am eating lots of spinach!  I am becoming quite the lefty, and think the gardens and beds have never been cleaner.  That left hand, like a hungry goose, snatches up every tiny weed and blade of grass that dares to poke its head up.  Now, I can't cut or sew (or tie my shoes) but I surely can do lots of planning in my head. 

My mom always said that there never was an ill wind that didn't blow some good, so that's the way I am looking at this.  I am seeing some good things coming from it, one of which  is counting my blessings even though they are more than I can count.  I am blessed to have two good  feet and to be able to continue to walk our hillside trails every day.  And, I am most blessed to have a wonderful family, and, yes, Millie, who, in great anxiousness and concern, was first over me when I fell.    

If you haven't read Lassie Come Home, I think you would enjoy it.  Back in my school teaching days, I loved this story, and the kids did too.  Just inside the front cover is a list of other wonderful stories I would like to read while I am on this little self-imposed Sabbatical but, thankfully, this old wrist is healing fast so that I will soon be back in the trenches.

Please note:  We do not have gorse shrubs here. It is a species of flowering plants native to the British Isles and Western Europe.  Flowering gorse shrubs are important in nature since they provide shelter and food for many insects and birds.  However, gorse is a tough, tenacious shrub that spreads quickly and can become invasive.

Take care and watch your feet, dear friends!

Mary