The wind is fickle.
Today was a ridiculously, windy day. Because our farm is at the top of a hill, and we only have a few trees nearby, it's usually always windy. But today the wind was a regular 27km/hour with bursts of 50km/hr.
I headed outside, with eye protection, and tried to rig open the doors of my cold frames so they wouldn't get too hot, but keep the doors slightly closed so the tomatoes wouldn't dry out. I chased the lid of our ash bin down the hill. I removed a rubbermaid lid from under the van to refasten to my soil bin. I tied the bird feeder to the tree because it kept blowing off. I watched my recycling tumble down the hill and slide into the cow fence, which I will retrieve tomorrow.
Although it was windy, the sun beat down fiercely, so of course I had to open the windows. Funny, old, windows that slide upwards, and then you jam a large nail into the hole and let the window sit on it. Then you use the very tips of your fingers to slide up the storm windows to expose the screen. And then you vacuum up all the dead flies and ladybugs. Farm life.
I opened the windows and went back to laundry. And smash.
Why would I remember that when the wind blows in, it's going to blow everything inside my house?
Fifty kilometer winds, inside my house. On cleaning day. Which meant recycling on the floor in the kitchen, papers all over the island, soil on the island because I'm still seeding, water bottles half-full, freshly folded cloths. Papers all over my desk upstairs - bills, notes, lists, school work. Two orchids, in full flower.
I was grumpy.
When I'm grumpy I do one thing. I clean. I would like to point out here that my house is not clean very often. But when I catch myself being grumpy, instead of cleaning, I do my quiet time. I sat down in my big plush flowery chair, right in the alcove of my bedroom, ignoring my orchids, and opened my Bible.
"Ascribe to the LORD the glory of due His Name; worship the LORD in the splendor of His Holiness." (Psalm 29:2)
I closed my book and watched outside the window for a bit.
Twittering, silly goldfinch, clawing at the feeder to hang on. They only feed when it's bad weather.
Tiny, clumps of bright green new spring leaves on the tips of the trees.
The fresh smells of the slightly stagnant river and clean grass.
Isn't it amazing how the wind can blow what it chooses to? It can be destructive, or it can be a blessing. I can choose to let the wind freshen up my house, or let it throw everything into chaos.
It's all about perspective.
It's all about behaviour.
It's all about what you allow into your home.
And it's all about checking which way the wind is blowing before you open the window.
Jenn Kelly is an author who loves fresh air. She is still working on a work-in-progress and another work-in-progress. You can find her at www.loveandoregano.com while she's pretending to be a farmer.