Slow down and be at peace

Marge and I've been working in our garden putting in plastic mulch. We have been putting ours in with a labor-intensive process. One can buy a machine that fits on the tractor, and it lays down a dripper line, digs two trenches about 32 inches apart, lays down a 36-inch wide piece of plastic with the edges in the trenches and then covers up the edges of the plastic. What we do is lay down the piece of dripper line by pulling it by hand to the other end of the garden row. Then we mark the trenches and usually hoe out the trenches. Then we roll out the plastic mulch by hand, and then finally cover the edges with our hoes. Labor intensive. With a tractor it might take an hour or two. It probably took us eight to 10 hours over three days. We ended up with sore muscles, but we slept well.

Now about the same time I was watching RFDTV, and they had a show on which highlighted horses, more specifically work horses. A fella on one of the shows had bought a huge sickle mower powered with a 26-horsepower engine, but he pulled the mower with a four-horse hitch. And I got to thinking about how it seemed kind of weird spending something like $35,000 on a fancy mower and powering it with horses. But what really was weird was his mower cut like an 18-foot swath, which is a lot. He was using horses, but he was pushing to get a lot of hay mowed. When one normally uses horses, it's slower, quieter, more contemplative and more of an experience to enjoy.

Every year, I kind of dread putting down the plastic mulch, yet at the same time I enjoy it. It's something Marge and I do together. When we lay down the mulch, it's like we are getting the garden ready for the entire summer. It's slow but enjoyable. In one of Zane Grey's books, a young outlaw volunteered to hoe the corn they were growing in the place called Robber's Roost. I believe it was Nevada, but not sure. He'd hoe awhile and then lean on the hoe and rest and contemplate. There's something about accomplishing a task using simple tools like laying the mulch or hoeing. At times it seems like I don't have the time to hoe so I crank up the tiller but it's not the same. The task is completed, but I don't feel as satisfied.

Years ago, I went to a rendezvous with a friend of mine. We set up his wall tent and dug a fire pit out in front. We laid out our bedrolls and set up camp. Now it was time to walk around and check out the camp. My friend knew many of the campers, so we ended up visiting at most every campsite. As the evening approached, it was time to make supper. Glen started a small fire in the fire pit and proceeded to cook supper. It was really enjoyable. No radios or TVs or noise. Just the smell of wood smoke and pipe tobacco and bacon and onions. No rush. We sat and enjoyed visiting until we got tired and hit our bed rolls. The camping ended up being a quiet, relaxing time and fulfilling.

A couple years ago, our son and I each bought a pellet smoker. Our other son already had one, and he was totally impressed with how it smoked. So for the past couple years we have been learning how to smoke pork butts or brisket or meatloaf or roasts or jerky. It would be quicker to just shove it into an insta-pot, and in minutes out would come a ready-to-eat piece of meat. But quick isn't the same as slow and steady. There is something about slowly cooking a brisket till its fork tender and not just the quality of the meat. There is something satisfying about spending time with no rush. We use pellets where I used to use charcoal or wood. There is something special about enjoying the experience.

Seems like today we want to rush everything. It's amazing to me how many of the cooks on TV open cans and dump and cook. They say a carrot is a carrot, but there is nothing like a carrot that's been laid beside a beef roast nestled amongst some whole potatoes and onions and cabbage seasoned with pepper and salt. Mom and now Marge assemble the goodies in a fairly large roaster and out comes some of the best food. But it's not a 60-minute meal. You have to do some planning and waiting and maybe even taking a nap for it to get done. It's like our spirit inside us is in a tither or a rush to do something or maybe anything.

There have been times when I've gone fishing with the sole purpose of bringing back a mess of fish. I went to enjoy the experience, don't get me wrong, but my main reason was some fish to eat. Man, I love a golden fried piece of crappie or bluegill or even a small bass. To me, that's living pretty high on the hog. I went recently though, but went to enjoy. I'd gotten some Bill Dance special spinners I wanted to try. Found out they work better for him than me. Also tried some little crappie baits you put on your hook. So I put my favorite Southern Pro tube color on and a teaser on the hook. It worked. I went to just relax and enjoy and even brought home enough for breakfast. But the best part was my spirit was at peace.

We have countless peace robbers today that strive to rob your spirit of peace. The news will steal your peace if you let it. Richard Foster wrote in one of his books he chose to not read the newspaper because the news was upsetting. The key is to not let it steal one's peace. Politics will steal your peace. Facebook will most assuredly steal your peace. Gossip is a definite peace stealer. Shun a gossiper. Spending more than you make will steal your spirit of peace. Rush rush hurry hurry will steal ones peace as well. Trying to accomplish more than is reasonable in a given time will steal your peace. The virus has most assuredly stolen our peace.

Having a peaceful, restful spirit is worth striving for. When things pile up and we realize we are getting in a tither, back off and calm down and slow down. Maybe have an ice tea or cup of coffee or a chat with an old friend or just sit chilling with the barn cats.