The Reward of Struggle and Hard Work

Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.

~Martin Luther King

Last week was a struggle. As you get older, the odds are you will be tempted more often to give up. But whatever comes your way, the only thing to do is keep on. God did not make us to fail. He made us to adjust and move forward. If for but one more day. Great blessings can be waiting on the other side of midnight.  

The form for the bass lamp project to be shaped over is out of stock. So I'm taking the projects out of order. Gerry will soon finish the kid's wine cabinet. So I am getting  a head start on our next joint venture. The stained glass window to insert in the upgraded Dutch door to our garage. It will be similar to this model found on the Internet. The size needs to be changed- the birds will be modeled after birds that drop in here and the tulips- they aren't going to be any shade of brown.  

The autumn garden adjusts to the changing weather with far more grace than I. Years of tilling compost and pairing plants has produced vignettes that I am at long last pleased with. When I am taken away to care for loved ones, they manage on their own.

The back canyon is an exercise in priorities. The wildflower seeds were broadcast with compost over native soil the day before a rain.  A single oak waits for its weekly water allotment delivered in a bucket way back in the barren background. Besides some minor up front effort, this is the kind of gardening where most of the activity required is to pray for God's grace, that He will help the seeds shout out their joy in springtime color.

As much as I love wildflowers, autumn is when fires roar through hillside communities. The effort went into clearing the canyon. Even with help, it is a job that leaves your back bent, your knees screaming for mercy, your nostrils filled with pollen and who knows what hanging from your hair.

But when you are finished, the mind is clear as the waters of a Caribbean lagoon.

The last of the pots are moved to more appropriate locations.

Now, we can put up our feet and pick the last of this season's tomatoes. In all this autumn toil we discover that the lack of having  much of  in common when we were first married turned out to be worth the struggle to make it work.