Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence. ~ Vince Lombardi
I seem to get philosophical when I do yard work, especially as I mow the lawn, or in today’s case, as I mow the hay. I’m pretty sure there’s enough to bale. Or there will be when the job is finished. I’m taking a break to let the battery recharge. Mine and the one that goes in the lawn mower, she says with a grin.
Some aspects of maintaining a house and lawn try both my body and my soul. More often my body, I guess. That’s what I was thinking as I moved the hammock off the grass and back under the pine trees. When the children are here they pull it down on the grass because it’s more level there. They never remember to pull it back up. Maybe it’s too difficult since it’s uphill. I would never scold them for it. It isn’t that important — until I try to heave-ho by myself. I slowly move one end at a time until I get it out of the path of the lawnmower.
It’s heavier than it looks.
Actually, the hammock belonged to my ex. I bought it for him for a birthday or some other occasion. I don’t remember. I suppose I should have left it for him when I moved my furniture, etc., from our house, but I didn’t. I never once saw him relax in it. The children loved it from day one. I took it for them. I knew they would enjoy it. And they have.
I was upset that I was having to move by myself when half the “stuff” was his and I had to go through every room and mark what was going with me and what stayed for him to move later. It was the hardest job, physically and emotionally, I had ever tried to do. I wasn’t feeling very kindly toward D. He should have been there to help. He wasn’t.
I think it may have been that day when I really understood what a coward he became once he decided to end the marriage. He either couldn’t or wouldn’t face me. He fled. Ran away. I suppose the fact that I can still get angry at him helps to assuage my guilt for taking some things that weren’t mine to take. Actually, he can have the hammock now if he wants to come and get it. I don’t deliver.
Hey! Where the hell did my perfect day go? Maybe it just went from perfect to excellent, but I’ll take excellent. Excellent is good.
So why is today an excellent, if not perfect, day? Because I stand on the deck and look beyond the pergola at the blue sky. I work in the yard in ideal weather — sunny with a high temperature of about 68 degrees. I’m happy outdoors.
Though it’s sometimes a challenge, I am physically able to care for my lawn and house. I’m grateful for that.
I’m able to take out small pieces of sadness and/or anger-inducing aspects of my past, but I no longer have a need to wallow in any of it. It is what it is. It’s part of who I am today. I have more happy days than sad ones, I think.
Today is one of the happy ones. An excellent day.
So…how’s your day?
Back On My Own 
