Howl.

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If I have a besetting sin, it is anger. I am too often angry. Today, my anger and hurt is eating at my throat, I am fighting back tears. It is all pointless.
I have too much to do, and my day is garroted twice by an hour long drive. The gap in the middle doesn't WORK.
Neil continuously and pointlessly asks 'but what DID you do' and I DON'T KNOW.
I picked up barrow after barrow of pony pooh from the field, I made phone calls, I lost pieces of paper in the huge mess, I unearthed some soap making equipment in the garage and found it all mouldy and useless and threw it away, I spared a precious half hour to plant up a little flower border by my greenhouse, I planted some chillies in pots.
The puppy, who is no nearer coming when called, responding to his name, or stopping chewing everything I own, destroyed the flower bed, upended the chillies and ate the pots.
I have four ponies for two children and I can't afford to send back the two I can't afford to keep. One can't lead one out and the other can't lead one in so a good half my life seems to be spent plowing backward and forward across a field with a bad tempered pony. I have sore feet. All the time. They hurt when I walk. Every time I walk.
I wash up and wash up and wash up. All my life seems to be spent washing up. I hate it, so I do it badly and slowly.
I am angry at the grass, because it is long, and I hate untidy gardens and all I want to do is cut it. But Neil spent the only money I have actually had in the last decade, from my veg box grant, on a lawnmower I CAN'T START. So I have to ask. And Neil is working 25 hour days. So I can ask all I like.
I have pictures that need putting up. But our walls are rendered in concrete and you physically cannot knock in a picture hook. You need to drill and raw plug. And we don't have a drill I'm allowed to use.
I am utterly, totally powerless over my circumstances. Now the more sanctified among you may consider this a good thing, and yes, I know, we are all powerless and in our weakness is His strength , but I challenge you to feel that way when your family is drowning, you are hemorrhaging money on bunches of dumb stuff you simply cannot afford, your husband is working stupid hours and earning a pittance, and you, you can do precisely NOTHING.
And just for good measure, the sorry excuse for a vegetable garden I have managed to get around to planting has cows lining up to invade it again, and frankly it won't take it. If they get in tonight, it's over for this year, and my one pathetic, useless contribution to the budget is down the pan.

I don't know why I get so angry, I think it's frustration, at all the bright hope and big ideas, slowly mouldering away as I get old and grumpy and one by one they just get left to wither. I have a lot to be thankful for. I have two beautiful, healthy children, I live in a place everyone else thinks is amazing and I think is tolerable. I have air and space, and at the moment, sunshine. But I am powerless. Utterly, utterly powerless. And I can't bear it.

And the two things I hate most in life are driving and washing up.

I'm sure that wasn't very edifying. But it had to be said. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

The world is a whirl

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of a fabulous service at our 'new' church, which was full of joy and open ness and children (well it was a dedication) and food and just well worship really.
It's a struggle to leave behind the constraints, the critical spirit, the fear and the worry, and just believe, but we're getting there. We really are.
And the longest day is always a great day for us. I mean, we have pagan friends who head for Stonehenge, but it's not that kind of a great day.
When I'm in the middle of winter, I find the winter solstice is the whole crux of the year. We are tired, we are cold, we are battle weary, but the turn of the year always lifts our spirits, and enables us to go on.
I long for summer, as the hart pants for water and all that. And then it comes, and on this day, we find ourselves, exhausted, worn out by the endless available hours during which we, of course, availably work.
So this day marks for me another turning point. One where we head back into sane working hours, and time to dream believe and pray, time to reap and gather and hold. It's a long way off yet, but I can feel it in the air. Praise Him for His endless mercies, autumn and log fires will come!

Skulking back to this little corner

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to feel sad. Hard times once again mean dh is working nights as well as days.
Lovely sunny evening, children at a critical time, especially H who is revising for exams. The show must go on. No family bbq for us, this evening, though.
Went for an interview for a job in the week - well, it wasn't really an interview, more a cattle market - gave the employer chance to get a look at and about 3 minutes to chat with about 60 applicants. Never easy in charity shop clothes and eight year old shoes.
I am battling, to be honest, with just the teeniest bit of resentment. Though I do know that all my mistakes are my own, and no one elses. Just some of the recent ones are really bugging me.
That's all :D
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