As much as I love my new manure spreader, there is one problem with it. Actually, there is nothing wrong with the spreader, only the operator. I forget to close the bottom of the spreader before I fill it with manure. There are latches on the wheels that must be positioned correctly in order to keep the manure in the cart until I am ready to spread it in the pasture. This morning, I cleaned stalls and filled the cart with manure. Because the lawn mower is so loud and it was so early in the morning, I decided not to wake the neighbors and leave the cart in the barn until this evening. When I came home tonight, I was dismayed to find the barn full of flies from the standing manure. So, I quickly jumped on the mower and took off into the pasture to get rid of it and the offending bugs. However, I had not closed the cart after I last used it. Instead of moving all the manure away from the barn, I ground it up and dumped it back in the barn! There it all lay, covered in flies right outside my horse’s stall. That is the second time in three days I have done such a stupid thing. Once the manure is ground up, it is almost impossible to pick back up with a manure rake. There is really nothing to be done but cover it with sand as best as I can and leave it there until it decomposes. As much of a problem as I am having with manure disposal, I discovered today that I am also not doing so well with my anger. A month or so ago, someone offended me deeply. I just think I have put it behind me and then, in conversation, there it is again, my anger rising up from deep within me. When I mentioned the hurt to someone today, they said, “You need to do something about that or quit talking about it.” Ouch. But, they were right. I either need to channel that anger into something productive and make sure it doesn’t happen to someone else again, or I need to let it go once and for all. Part of it is my pride of course. How could anyone talk to me that way? Pride, hurt feelings, perceived or real, and jealousy, are all related to anger after all. I must make the choice to quit carting around my anger like day old manure, to place it where it belongs far, far away instead of hiding it in little pieces where I can look at it over and over again. Talking about it is one thing, but actually remembering to use the tools God has given me properly is another. I hope I remember to lock up those wheels until I get away from the barn tomorrow. Equally, I desire with God’s help to put that anger aside for good as well.