She searched for her kitchen tool
before beginning the day's labors
cooking the family's simple meals.
Lost without her implement,
she could not stir the mush
simmering over the open fire.
Where could it be? The small dugout
was dark and crowded...a bed, table
and a few shelves filled with only basic
necessities for their survival-corn meal,
molasses, water, beans, and dried meat.
It was here yesterday...she remembered.
Skillfully made by her loving husband,
another one could be made anew but that
would waste his precious work time.
Now the family's mush was boiling
without the necessary primitive tool
needed to stir and smash the lumps.
Her earthly life was like that at times
everything seemed thrown together
waiting for the proper preparation
and the stirring in of opposition
which wasn't lacking in her life.
Basic survival skills and difficult tasks
filled each day of back breaking labor.
Homesteading was a constant challenge
aided by few store bought luxuries.
She missed her old wooden spoon.