Serving Barnwell County and it's neighbors since 1852
September announces Summer’s refrain.
Children at bus stops in the early morning again.
Football stadiums echo of supporting cheer.
The band plays on, the fans are all here!
September befriend us as Autumn gathers.
Be well inclined as we climb life’s ladders.
From the 1993 poem A year of Hope
by Donna-Maria Conzalina
As my third Autumn gathers here at The Gypsy Ranch, I’ve been considering the harvest this year’s labor has produced.
Three Autumn’s ago, I focused on furnishings for the house and its necessary structural repairs. That following spring my dream of planting a natural healing garden began. A dozen or so standard, medicinal herbs I carefully chose and planted around the yard. The following year, my second here; I continued adding more healing herbs along with a couple of fruit and nut trees. This past spring, a visiting friend and I had just planted two chestnut trees (“Chester and Chelsea” we playfully named them) when, that evening, I received an invitation to spend a few months in California with my eldest daughter and granddaughter. Naturally I was excited to go. So, with the blessing of family, friends and neighbors offering to look after the place, away I went.
I returned in the middle of summer. It was a wonderful visit and I was delighted to have spent time with my loved ones. You know that feeling when you wish you could be in two places at once? Live here and there. Twitch your nose and visit whenever you like? Yes, that’s how I felt. But, as most of us agree, it’s always a good feeling to likewise be home again. And somehow I believe this old house was trying to tell me she missed me too. Like a child acting up, hungry for attention, The Gypsy Ranch welcomed me home in her own form of crying out. So happened, she was in dire need of a new air conditioning system and I arrived just in time. The old gal, made of bricks and timber, had been struggling to cool the place down and my electric bill was proof of her woes.
The next few weeks were quite steamy to say the least as I waited on the special order unit to be installed. South Carolina’s high humidity level radiated the house and felt amplified between my ears by the experience of climate change from coast to coast. A dreadful sinus infection developed. As might be expected, with my ears blocked and equilibrium off, I didn’t once consider going outside and working on said dream garden.
For almost two months, I attempted natural healing to no avail. Maybe that’s why The Bible illustrates that a physician, Luke, was one of Jesus’ disciples. To impress that sometimes, even we herbalists need to recognize there’s a need for specialists. I’m a hard headed woman, but even I knew when enough was enough.
And so it was, I wound up at the doctor’s office prescribed with what normally should have been an ample decongestant. Although somewhat helpful, overall, it too proved to be unsuccessful. So upon the next doctor’s visit, this time with an elevated blood pressure, I was placed on an antibiotic and BP monitor. Now, let me add here, the reason I first attempted to heal myself naturally was: my body notoriously rejects medications, especially antibiotics. And sure enough, following suit, the first, and then second, antibiotic I was given each left me with allergic reactions. Even more concerning was an increasingly high blood pressure reading that wouldn’t regulate. Yeh, I’ve had better summers.
For the remainder of that week, one thing led to another. To make a long story short, through much anxiety and discomfort, I wound up on BP meds and Flonase after spending the majority of the weekend at two different emergency rooms, extensively tested on separate days, with my dear neighbor/friend by my side.
By the grace of God I’m finally on the mend now. And in the midst of that mess, one beautiful key factor can’t be ignored: A dear neighbor/friend (was) by my side.
Just as I needed help when I left for California, it was the same when I needed someone to take me approximately 40 miles, each way, to the emergency rooms. (the first didn’t have a cardiologist) Two days in a row, for hours unend, my friend was there. Not a typical friend by any means. A sister kind of friend, she is. One who didn’t think twice about helping me. I don’t know how many times I apologized for interrupting her weekend, but she just hugged me and said it was a blessing because it took her mind off of things she was going through. I think it’s more than that though. I’m convinced she really has the wings tucked under her long hair.
And if it’s so, she is indeed my appointed earth angel; The Lord has been kind enough, for her relief and my sake, to plant a backup hedge of angels in close proximity. For it’s not just this dear lady and her equally kind husband; but neighbors whose heart’s like these are the norm in this area.
I don’t know what I ever did for God to think I deserved this homestead and community. But I sure am grateful and do my best to care for it. And although I wasn’t able to gather an edible harvest this year, I sure wouldn’t trade this spiritual bounty for anything. I only pray I can be just as good a neighbor/friend to them.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22-23.
Amen
