My disjointed thoughts are somehow connected. Prayers for Sage


What is the difference between beating a dead horse and never giving up on what you believe in?  You hear stories about people who are successful because they kept on trying and never gave up even when all the odds were against them.  On the other hand, there comes a time when you have to toss in the towel and admit defeat.  What do y’all think?

Charles and colonel Dale, a solider in a world of hurt - his motto "NEVER, NEVER quit."

Kim and Charles National Harbor July 4th

We spent the 4th with Charles’ brother Dale and his wife Terri – a little tradition we have, fireworks and water –  a good combination for us.

The sheep watch me through the fence as I walk

There can be no doubt we are in the middle of a drought.

A few  mornings ago, I went out and found a turtle eating from my dogs food bowl – who knew that turtles would eat dry dog food?  In the evening I found a black snake doing the same.  This snake was not so thick in diameter, but made up for it in length, I would say about 5-6 feet long.  I went back with a shovel to tamp on the ground to encourage it to move along, turns out I really didn’t need it, it  moved at a pretty good clip as soon as it saw me coming.  Black snakes are good to have around and I don’t mind as long as they behave.  The other morning however was a different story.  I went out for my morning exercise walk and upon my return there at my kitchen door was another one.  This one was a little larger in diameter but only about 3-4 feet long.  Out came the shovel again for persuasion, this one was ready to strike however, and didn’t take too kindly to me being around.  Let’s just say I removed it  from the area.  The cats had a blast sniffing the area where it was, as well as the shovel.  Funny how they can get their britches all bunched up – fur standing on end and nervous when something moves – all four legs spring them straight upwards, I have to laugh.

Henry darts up the black berry tree, and waits for me to walk under it and pounce down on me.

Our grapes have dried up and look like raisins, the peaches are about the size of walnuts, and are falling to the ground as are the pears and apples.  The grass is brown and the ground is cracking.  We haven’t had rain in many many weeks.  There have been storms that passed through Charlottesville and the surrounding counties, but they have all missed us.  It is quite frustrating it gets dark and the clouds move in, the wind kicks up I can hear thunder all around and yet nary a drop of rain falls.  Next year we will have lived here for 20 years, we have been through droughts before, but this one is different and for the first time I am really concerned about our well.  It shows signs of stress and there is a lot of sediment in the water – not good.

The grapes have dried up into raisins

Grapes fall to the dry cracked earth below

A few days have passed, and finally, we had a small amount of rain.  I love the sound of the rain coming down on our tin roof, it was especially welcomed this time.

Monarda - Bee Balm - blooms by the pond

I have had other blogs in the past but this year I decided to start a new blog and really work at posting regularly.  This was to be part of my whole process of stepping outside my comfort zone and doing things that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with.  Lately, I’ve been really struggling with my posts.  As I walk in the morning I have a lot of time for my mind to wander and I think about things that I may post – but pretty much that doesn’t happen.  Sometimes I’ll come in and write a post and then it will sit for days or weeks eventually getting posted, or more likely trashed.

Earlier this spring my business situation seemed to have some new life thrown in and I was feeling fairly optimistic.  I was very hopeful to know once again the success that I had known before the economy tanked. Weeks have passed and silence is the norm.  I’ve thought of many new designs and created a few too.  I’ve planned for the future and hoped for a new direction.

My morning walking exercise is on the dry grass, for a while it was so dry it would crunch under my feet, with each step I could feel a little of my hope drying up.  Now the grass is so dead that it no longer crunches and my hopes of canning any of the harvest have all but faded away.

There can be no doubt we are in the middle of a drought.

On the plus side, our crape myrtle has never been prettier

Over the weekend, Charles had tried to correct a problem with my little pond out by the studio.  Unfortunately, what happened was that the pond cracked and water started quickly spilling out.  We raced to scoop out the fish and put them safely in the big pond.  The pump was unplugged and the wonderful sound that I love of that fountain was silenced.  For me, it was my heart stopping.  I encouraged Charles to move on to another project away from the studio, I told him I would finish dealing with the pond.  What I really wanted was to be alone so I could shed my tears without his knowledge.  That silence of the pump, and the gushing of the water through the crack, just seemed to me to be too reflective of my hopes and wishes fading away.  I just couldn’t bear it – perhaps it was my hormones.  It felt  like it was a sign that I need to throw in the towel and know that my business wasn’t going to come back to life.

I brushed away my tears and stood looking at my little pond and wondered what to do.  The fish were all safe – that was good – so I started working on transferring the plants over to the other pond as well.  The sun had shifted and was shinning in a different direction as I worked to remove the plants.  I noticed in the beam of sunlight something small move.  I felt a twinge of excitement as I realized we had babies – goldfish that is.  Weeks ago I had given up hope that any of the eggs had survived, but now the proof was swimming right before my eyes.  My mind raced with this knowledge.  I decided that since the crack was up high,  if I would just keep the water level significantly lower, I could still keep the pump running.  This will work for a while, it will allow for the fish to grow and then I can transfer them to the big pond later.  It isn’t like we really need to have more fish – we certainly don’t.  However, it is satisfying to know they survived and that seems promising to me.

Never, never quit – something to ponder.

Please put your prayers together for our friend’s beloved dog, Sage.  Charles and I went for our usual Margarita Sunday yesterday.  While we waited for our friends to join us, the Margarita’s were flowing freely but the time was passing.  Something was wrong – where are Karen & Ned?  Finally they arrived, in a whirlwind of anxiety.  Turns out, as they were leaving to join us, their dog Sage, was bitten in the head by a Copperhead.  They rushed her to the vet – a full recovery is expected, but a little extra doggie prayer can’t hurt.

Just the evening before at Karen & Ned’s house – we played with Sage and the gang and all was good – here she is in a photo with me (well sort of).

Kim (or rather Kim's boob) and Sage and Jake

Prayers for Sage.

Until next time,



3 Wishes Studio

2 thoughts on “My disjointed thoughts are somehow connected. Prayers for Sage

  1. Another tear jerking, beautifully written, feelings from the heart blog you have shared. I thank you for that because I do know how difficult it can be to share such personal thoughts with the outside world.

    Prayers for Sage and for you my dear friend.


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