Change

I like to think that I'm generally ok with change.  It is an inevitable part of this life.  Mostly, I think I am.  But I'm beginning to believe that I like it better in small doses, a bit at a time over a period of time, rather than a whole bunch of change all at once.

Too much change at once unsettles me.

We've had an ongoing problem with our personal DVR system.  (Decided years ago to buy our own rather than keep paying those high rental fees at Comcast.) We hoped it would live for about 3 years (the time in which it paid for itself).  It's been nearly 7 as near as I can recall.  It has been well used.  And is pretty much "used up", worn out.  The solution is to clone the hard drive.  (Yep, all greek to me.) It's been a process, figuring it all out.  A new drive has been ordered, after which we'll prevail on our grandson's Dad to do the actual cloning.

True?  Maybe not, but it's a nice hopeful thought.

In the meantime, we're without cable completely.  And it's ok, we actually tried to "cut the cord" with Comcast last year, so I thought I knew what to expect.  But it's still a big change.  We have all these tv's in all these rooms that are basically useless for the moment (some are hooked up to the actual antenna in the attic - thank heavens for The Husband's foresight in installing it when we built the house.  It means we can get the local network channels for news, etc.).

There's also change in our health insurance through The Husband's employer.  It means a new company, new plan and new doctors.  (The doctor part is the part that's problematic for me.  I dislike finding new doctors and being stuck with them for a year if I don't like him/her.)

The Husband has several "irons in the fire" that are taking some time/effort to cool. I try to help.  Not so great at it. He's got deadlines (and frustrations) at work.  I think I respond to that on some subliminal level.

There are people moving away (neighbors and those we work with at church and a dear friend who is downsizing).  And people getting married.

I guess I"m feeling the pressure of some of the other stuff - that Sunday School class that permeates my daily thoughts. The need to hand water the garden every day (The Husband is working on that as well). Trying to come up with something enjoyable for dinner every day. The sense that I need to pare down/clean up/toss out. My stack of books from the library that grows instead of diminishes (and that should be the fun thing!)  The beach is calling me...

I watched a crow flying this morning - being hounded by a smaller bird, looked like a sparrow or something that size.  No matter how the crow ignored it that little bird harassed and bothered it until I could no longer see them in the sky.  Was the crow frustrated? Or completely unconcerned/uninterested? What's the lesson there for me?

I picked a couple carrots this morning. Teensy baby ones that actually needed some thinning, but I used them as a gauge to see if those yumminess-es are ready to eat yet.  (I'm anxious.  Every day I look at the garden out the window and send it these thoughts:  grow, be healthy, grow, grow. So far, things are looking fairly decent.)

And in spite of anxieties that seem to be one of my daily challenges I'm grateful.  I'm grateful for work paydays.  I'm grateful for a new color of nail polish for my toes.  I'm grateful for trees and the shade they provide. (We planted our yard with lots of trees initially for shade from the summer sun, only to find our best garden spot (the one with the mostest sun) isn't really quite as sunny as it should be. We'll keep trying.) For a free bag of potato chips. And for the hope of a peaceful heart.