Slow it Goes

   Recovery is slow; you can't rush it and you might as well not fight it..it's just part of life. Not being one accustomed to staying put and resting, this has been a tough week for me. I love activity, productivity and being outdoor in the sun. Like I said..it has been tough.
   Little by little and bit by bit my body is starting to cooperate. My hands are finding things to busy them; books are being read. A little time here and there at the quilt frame has been nice; the view from my window so colorful and lively.
   In this slow time I have come to treasure the sounds of my homestead farm; roosters crow as the hens cackle, Doc's hearty brae and Hadassah's lively bark. The morning song of wild birds as they visit the growing gardens are punctuated by the woodpecker's hammering from the tall pine.
   Closing my eyes and breathing deep the lively activity of it all keeps me calm and looking forward to long days hoeing weeds, harvesting goods, and mucking stalls. Funny what you miss when you are resting and recovering; the scent of fresh hay, the nuzzle of soft noses and the flutter of little wings.
   Yes, soon I will be back at it all..but for now...slow it goes.