Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Local Library Barely Survives Massive Storm

No flooding, not even any dampness, and so our Little Free Library has survived, what I hope will be, the first of many rainy days this new season.

Honestly, I think I would have used another title for this post... perhaps:
The Good Rain or New In The Library, even Rainy Days and Old Books. But, data suggests that the poor reception of Chickenblog, the dwindling readership, may be a result of uninspired headlines, and a sad lack of tawdry confessions. We need click bait! Geoff's read some articles on the subject and he says the key to blog success is confession. Something shocking, but not too shocking. I should reveal a humbling or embarrassing anecdote or personal belief that attracts attention, brings in the crowds, but not so disgusting that it scares away the half dozen or so regular readers.

What do you think? Do we need more bling, more zing?

I just wanted to capture the rain. To find it in pictures, to see it up close, and hold it near. The rain has been a perfect expression of my relief, a cleansing of my thoughts, my fears, my grief. It restores my hope for the work of firefighters, for the places in peril, it cooled our long and taxing heat wave, and it marked the day when Geoff came home. When Geoff's doctor came to tell me everything went very well, I was surprised to begin to feel the release of fear and worry, surprised to realize what a tight grip it's had on me. This is a New Year, a fresh start, and in time we will know for certain if Geoff's new heart rhythm will stay steady, regular. We drove home in a quenching, cleansing downpour, and it suits the occasion beautifully, this new beginning, with a new rhythm to move to. I wanted to go into the rain and feel the hope it symbolizes, to observe it, and absorb it, and believe in it.

Friends have been sending messages, offering help, prayers, insightful humor. It's tremendously comforting to feel connected, to know that there is a safety net. And there were some who gave me even more support and security, covering for me and keeping our family on course. Thank you, Carol, Diana, Janece, Paul, and Amira. Maybe the highest expression of my gratitude and appreciation is saying, I wasn't worried, didn't have to second guess, because I knew I could count on you.

Here's a zinger, even something of a cliffhanger: Maria and I drank milk that was ten days expired. That's right. You read correctly... my incompetence with homemaking has reached a new low, and there may be dire consequences. I could {and am tempted to try to} write a long essay about how challenging life can be, how it can "look" okay on the surface, how we "manage," but standards slip, things slide, and not so very far below the surface you can see there is room for improvement. So, yes... I am eager to begin again, to... how do I describe this? I am thankful and happy, and we are cautiously optimistic, so why do I feel like I might burst into tears, collapse from relief? It's almost as though my cells are so accustomed to this tension of fear and worry, that I am exhausted as we enter this new phase when things are getting good. Apparently, I need to get my act together and go buy fresh milk. Because, in the middle of Massive Storms, health crisis, and heat waves, we must carry on, and believe.


Anonymous said...

Please know that I love your blog. I'm usually quite incompetent on knowing how to reply on blogs, literally...I really hate computers, actually. But know that your blog is interesting, your photos are lovely, and I think your family sounds quite wonderful. Blog on, sister!

Anonymous said...

Dearest Blogger, I love the photos. They truly capture the mood and sense-of-place.
The deep sense of dread and impending whatever sounds very familiar.
Crying is very good, very cleansing. Think of crying as cleaning and as a soulful orgasm which will release .... It's a lot cheaper than a massage, however I would recommend a good cry and then a good deep tissue massage.

cheri said...

I don't want tawdry or shocking. I enjoy your blog because it calming and sweet and peaceful to see other people going about their ordinary lives. No drama (or small drama) you all seem to love and respect each other and are doing good things for each other and for strangers who cross your path. I love the pictures and enjoy reading about the chickens and cats. I am glad your Geoff is home and wish him well. Keep up the blog and change it only if you want to. Good Luck.

Anonymous said...

I agree with the above comments wholeheartedly! Natalie, your blog is calming and wonderfully soothing. I get a cup of tea and pretend we're two friends chatting at the kitchen table. I love reading about all of your adventures, about how you and your family overcome your obstacles, and of course, about what all of your animals are up to doing. Your readers know that your life is not all rainbows and unicorns. No one's life is. We admire the persistent grace you show us by writing it down and posting it here. You may feel vulnerable at times by blogging your feelings for everyone to see. Personally, I think that makes you the strongest person I "know" on the internet. Cheers, Laurie

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

I appreciate comments, and I really appreciate that it can be a hassle to figure these things out, and juggle all of the parts... so thank you! Thank you for your effort, thank you for the kind remarks~

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Thank you.
And I agree... a good cry + a massage = HEALING

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Not even a teeny bit shocking?? I was shocked by how much bad milk I drank, before anything registered, and how we didn't get sick... a huge mystery, for sure!
Thank you for your kind comments.

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Good morning, Laurie!
Chatting at a table with friends is how I have often imagined blogging... friendly engagement, cheerful chatting. I am happy you see it this way, too. And thank you. You are right about me feeling vulnerable, but when just one person can relate and shares that with me, it feels worthwhile. Yes, thank you, a lot.