Yesterday was rough.

I woke up feeling like the cosmos was out of balance and that the setting right of things was entirely out of my control.

I felt a lot like this little squirrel probably did. It had gotten jostled out of its warm, safe nest and was being held captive by something so large and strong, all it could do was hold its breath and wait.

Then, mid-morning, Zivah's hamster, Whiskers, met with an accident. A few minutes later, Z brought her to me in concern. "She's cold, and she's not moving much," she told me. I took a look at the hamster, and it was pretty obvious Whiskers was in real trouble.

The next span of time was awful. Zivah was in tears; Finley was shook up, but trying her best to ease Zivah's pain; Joe filled a water bottle with warm water, trying to do anything to help Whiskers and keep her warm. And then Whiskers passed, we tucked her into a check box, and Chris went out with the kids to bury her.

Thankfully, we were going to Nana's that afternoon to celebrate her birthday. We all needed distraction. I tried my best not think about Z's excitement and joy the day after Christmas when we went to get Whiskers or the tears of loss...

This morning, the kids were getting ready to leave for school, and I was standing in the living room, and looked up out of the window facing east. The sun was a big, orange circle of warmth, it's light reaching out to our house over the tree tops.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. - Lamentations 3:22-23

There is nothing quite so wonderful as a sense of peace.

I am relishing in the sound of the light rain on the roof and water trickling out of the downspouts. The windows are open, and 69-degree, fresh air is seeping slowly through the screens.

This morning was all business. We have a handful of quotes to throw together for next week, and with Chris working out in the field most days, there isn't a lot of time to hash out details together. We finally called it quits about lunchtime. Chris headed out to the shop to sort through his stuff, but I decided I needed to immerse myself something more natural.

Wandering around the farm, I discovered the weeping willow had sprouted leaves:

And the peach tree is about to bloom:

I headed to the garden. I had completely neglected it last summer, so the tomato cages still supported long-dead plants in sloppy rows. Yellow grass was thick around the fencing, and a pile of mulch lay hidden beneath brown weeds.  One long, laid-over cabbage stalk held a half-eaten, miniature head on its tip. I pulled up the cages, emptied them of the dead stalks, and lined them up in a corner of the garden. I am wondering if I can whip it into shape this year. It's going to take some work.

But now, it is raining. A good excuse to ignore the politics, business, and busyness of life and just sit.