I took these lovely spring blooms into the church for first service, led Sunday School, sang in the choir in second service, and then brought the bouquet home.
We are required to remove the flowers we take to church, a very sensible rule that benefits the generous. Or slightly generous, since we get to keep the flowers.
I intended to get started on my Seamwork Design Your Wardrobe at last today. Instead, I lolled around knitting and watching Hulu. I cooked and cleaned a little bit, but there was a lot of lolling.
According to my planner, I’ve had one day of lolling about so far this year. Travel, guests, events… the year has been chock full of excitement. So I decided to accept the lolling today, following four hours of human connections.
I’m feeling a bit less stressed, but I’m definitely stressed. A lack of solitary lolling may be — and probably is — part of that. But we also have lots of small jobs instead of the new retainer client we want and need. I haven’t done my taxes yet. My husband starts a full-time job tomorrow after two years unemployed and nearly another year as a temp. He started a job once before and quit after three days, leading to our having to pay back his unemployment compensation in full. So that’s making me a bit nervous. My husband is capable of sabotaging himself.
And how much is my recent spotty performance with eating, sleeping, and moving affecting my energy and stress levels?
Enough whining. Though it’s better to whine at my blog than to whine in person to other people.
In Sunday School today, we were examining Sleeth’s four rules for food:
- Don’t eat food that is unethically sourced.
- Don’t choose food that harms our bodies.
- Don’t buy food that harms other people.
- Don’t use food that harms the environment in its production.
One of the participants took exception to Sleeth’s claim that factory farming is unethical. Chickens, he said, we given by God a very unreflective nature. They’re not worrying about the truck coming to pick them up. They’re not thinking about the sunshine they’re missing. They are capable of feeling pain, but they’re also capable of pecking each other to death.
Let’s worry about slave labor and downstream pollution, but not about the suffering of chickens.
He may have a point. I’m capable of creating negative feelings for myself out of nothing, or almost nothing. Chickens probably have no angst and no whining. God gave them an unreflective nature.
Perhaps I should be less reflective, or at least I should focus on positive reflections instead.