Home

     I woke up this morning to screams from the front porch.  I jumped up after a night of wakefulness caused by coughs resounding from every room.  Macklynn was hanging over the rail, sick.  He said he was dizzy and I knew he had what Michael brought home from Boone where he was packing shoe boxes while Mike had his orientation.  The flu, we haven't had it in forever.  The last time I remember that it was the real deal, full blown flu was when Megan was little.  Everybody "says" they have the flu, but when you're dilirious from headache and fever and can't hold a cloth to your bloody nose because your arm aches (as Macklynn did), then you have the flu.  I tried so hard to quarantine.  My best guess it that Michael spread the germs as he was coming down with what we thought was this terrible cough most everyone else here has had for weeks.
     I don't care much for TV, but thank God for it when there's nothing else a person feels like doing.  So, as all the sicklings rested another day, Madalynn and I went down to the barn, boots on and buckets full.  There stood  "Patty", the pig, up on the fence and the calves happy to receive the feed we've had to buy them.  The "other" pig, the pot-bellied one, bites at them to steal their food and caused one to jump over the gate and hang its leg yesterday, so I had to contrive some way to keep her out of the shabby barn.  An old door and a bungy strap later, I had her perplexed.
     It's funny: Miranda said the people she works with say she's a farm girl.  She doesn't think so at all.  They asked, "You have cows?  You have pigs?  You have chickens?  You have a garden?"  Then you lived on a farm.  They just haven't seen a "real" farm, I suppose.  We dabble and mostly "come upon" things.  We don't have any farm equipment.  Last time we needed something hauled, Michael bartered a truck wash for it.
     "Outdoorsy" we can settle on.  Madalynn fits the bill.  She insisted that I put a leash around her and that we traipse into the woods as if she were a dog, down by the creek, so she could point out where she had lost her boot in the "quicksand".  We hopped a few rocks and sat on the moss.  She didn't want to come back. I didn't either, but I had to keep moving.  I need to stop here for a minute though and divulge a tidbit I was "given" on Sunday.  As I roamed the property, then sat on the ground pulling burrs out of Mia's fur, I thought over the question people pose about the number of children we have despite the narcissist I lived with.  I love creation: children, animals, plants.  God saw to it that I was surrounded by it.  He never gave me more than I could bear, just felt like it sometimes.   I had love all the time, just not always the one I wanted the most.  It's in my possession now, but its flames have reduced to smoldering coals because it was unrequited for too long.  And so the delicate balancing act continues.
     A few days ago, two neighbors stopped with two boxes of food.  Their church found out Mike had broken his leg.  The little kids were so impressed.  There were crackers, cookies, macaroni, Pop Tarts, cereal, and all manner of snacks for "under the weather" days.  They began to tire even of those, so homemade pancakes seemed in order.  Madalynn sat on the counter and grabbed at everything I'd let her pour in.  Our pancakes aren't the same without flaxseed and fresh ground whole wheat.  Call it "homeschooler food" all you want to, but don't knock it 'til you've tried it!  Plus, real butter and maple syrup make them taste the way they were meant to.
     Ordinarily, I'd have one of the kids make the pancakes and another one go to the barn and another one play with Madalynn.  Today I got to fill all those roles and although not much else got done, I'm happy.  It's so easy to lose touch with children, even for us "stay at home" moms.
     I'm getting a dose of what true "stay at home" means ...and I like it.  Mike returned to work last week and took our one car with him.  Without the ability to "run around", time stops in a way.  When Mike returned every evening, I had supper cooking, the tree lit, music playing, house straighter by the day, and a little make-up on.  I can't imagine anything nicer.  Granted he was worked up from all his new information and when I do go back to town, I'll have about 14 places to go AND everyone was hacking their hearts up.  Still ...it was nice.  I don't plan to let that slip away.
    Home isn't "always" nice.  McKala has had nightly attacks.  She wakes coughing so uncontrollably that she vomits, in turn causing her nose to bleed.  She can hardly catch a breath.  All I can do is stand there with a cloth.  She's taking all the medicine they know to give her.  I'm just thankful to go through this with her.  I'm thankful that I don't have a particular hour to rise and rush out of the house.  I'm thankful to be the queen of this castle and ...thankful that no one else can fit the crown that I alone have been given.