Life moves quickly, I realize now. Too fast to waste on fear or disappointment. Time is precious. I am struggling to learn peace. I am figuring out how to love. I am working to be patient. I am learning how to be a friend, and how to have a friend. I am getting help, and taking help. And giving some help. I am always working on being a good parent.
  The wheel is always turning. The farmhouse plumbing has some problems. Have a sick ewe. Got to get the manure moved from the feeder. Got to get the rest of the hay into the barn.
  My computer is wearing out from all the photos and work it gets, making strange noises. I have a lot of work to do on my novel, although my editor likes the first few chapters. I have work to do on my children’s books, and am enjoying writing them.
  Obviously, I am in a new relationship, perhaps the most important turn of the wheel. We are going places, doing things, and most of all, we love just talking to one another, which we never tire of. I’m going to see the dentist, get the car serviced. Sometimes I feel as if life is one of those baseball machines tossing balls at you, and  you keep swinging until you just miss.
  I expect to have problems, but I am determined not to live a life of regrets. When I look back, I want to say, I lived, loved, and tried.
  Life moves. You either move with it. Or you don’t.

  Frieda likes to watch the trucks go by. She chases the barn cats if she is behind the fence, but not if she is out walking freely. I suspect she was trained as a guard dog.

June 15, 2009 – Clear, warm. Walked the dogs, trained Frieda, did the chores, fed the cats, washed the dishes. Going to work on my novel, then, this afternoon, out on a hospice call.