I think I have weird chickens. Every time Jim or I muck out the coop and replace the bedding, the hens use all the nesting boxes to lay their eggs… for the first day. It’s like, “Hey look mom! New shoes! I can jump higher!” Do they think they can lay better? Faster?
And then they all go back to sharing just one box, like always.
What on earth does that have to do with social media? Nada. Zip. But it’s part of the little things in life I take pleasure in… again.
A week ago I decided I needed to get off of Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. I haven’t deleted my accounts, and I probably will not. A number of people I’ve communicated with for years (mostly about quilting and baking) contact me on messenger, and I’d like to keep that avenue open.
Social media may be today’s front porch, and while you can choose whom you invite to pull up a chair next to you, you can’t stop the pervading bad smell from next door from sneaking over. It’s everywhere. The air stinks.
I want flowers in my life. A gentle breeze carrying the scent of spring blossoms and pine trees. Bach playing softly in the background. The aroma of sourdough bread baking and coffee brewing. Friends. Real ones.
The noise volume in my head has quieted down immensely in the past week. I’m sleeping… for maybe the first time in years. The blood pressure medication has me feeling so much better, and while I still pretty much get a daily headache, they’re just headaches now. I haven’t had a migraine in over a month.
I’m getting things done again. Reading more, listening to more music, less news. Walking, gardening, baking bread.
I believe this will prove to be an excellent choice. Maybe at some point, my joy in quilting will come back.