We have had 100 plus degree weather for several days. The grass and flowers are dying from heat strokes even though I’ve been watering. We usually don’t have rain until all the wheat has been cut, but it must surly be close to that time now. 108.106, and in between has been the temperature for several days now, except for one or two. All summer the roses and flowers have barely been surviving. There has not been any real beauty to them. Last summer was such a contrast. I had beautify flowers for several months last year. I really miss the beauty of my roses and flowers. I guess I can look forward to next spring and summer. That’s what the farmers have to do with their wheat crops. Some years their wheat is not even worth cutting because of dry weather. Then some summers they have a good crop. It keeps us from becoming bored because of anxiety. My great fruit harvest turned out to be nothing but throw-away fruit. There was lots of plums, apples, and berries on the trees, but the terrific hail we had put holes in them so the birds were able to feast on what they could peck into. I believed they managed to peck on every plum and apple still on the trees after the hail. We still have lots to be thankful for, so I am not complaining, just stating facts.
This is Wednesday the middle of the week, and I am counting the days till I can be with my friends again for dinner, and fellowship, Saturday night. I need more of this kind of fun stuff to do. Home alone can, and does get deadlocked quite often. I want to move out of my recliner, but I don’t want to move out of my recliner. I never thought I would ever get into a time in my life like this. I have always been energetic, and full of ambition. I just never had to be alone like I am now. My husband was the joy of my life, now he has left so I am managing with only one-half of me. I haven’t found anyone who can take his place. Not that I want to, but I know he will never come back to this earth. I still spend a lot of time with him in my dreams, and sometimes I wake up angry at him. He could also do that to me sometimes. My wake hours are too many, and I am alone during most of those. There is no one to share with, or blame my mistakes to. There is no one to smile at me when I unload my frustration on them. There is no one to take the hammer out of my hand and go do the job I started to do. My food doesn’t taste as good when there is no one to say, “this is delicious.” I am waiting for things to change, but I have no idea just how that may be. Only God knows.
God Bless
Myrtle Jean Sharp
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