I am not perfect . . .

I promised at the onset of this blog to be honest.  So, today, I will be honest.  You are welcome in advance that I have waited 24 hours to write.

Today, I hate the farm.  Completely hate it.  Not “Oh, I had a bad day”.  Not, “Oh, I’ll feel different tomorrow”.  Total and complete hate.

I might feel different next week.  But, more likely, I’ll feel differently after Christmas and rest.  It is December 6.  I usually have my beautiful Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving.  I enjoy dressing up my long awaited pretty house with the lights and greenery.  I enjoy having my kids drop by and place stuff under the tree. I enjoy choosing gifts that will make the people I love smile.  I enjoy spending time with those kids who live within 5 minutes of me right here – not at the farm.  And I miss the one who is off in sunny Florida – who will need internet available when he visits.  The kids, in general, are not largely excited about the farm.  Some of them are right down mad about the fact that we bought a farm an hour away.  So, I’ve spent more than two weeks of what would be my favorite time of year, with my favorite stuff still in boxes, much of the family unseen, and exhausted from trying to be two places.

The farm is a great place to visit.  Some day it might be a great place to live.  But right now, I can’t be there.  My life, for the most part is here.  I’m just bouncing back and forth, exhausted from trying to ride two horses with one butt.  Which can’t be done – Sugarbee!

That much clarity has been extracted from the self-imposed 24 hour “time-out”.

Now, I realize how ungrateful the previous few paragraphs have sounded.  I am beyond blessed.  I have no right to complain.  But, yet here I am complaining.  I still love my farmer man, but he may not be able to tell right now.  The fact that the farm makes him smile and look boyish is not enough to carry past the immediate question of “What about me?” at this moment.

So, my very imperfect self is planning to be pretty selfish and just make a decision.  I have 19 days left until Christmas.  I will be home.  I may work on ancestry.  I will work to put up the very large and cumbersome pretty Christmas tree – and it will likely still be up in February.  I will figure out where to go tank up on Jesus – because I’m feeling a little spiritually empty and God inhabits the praise of His people.  (It is possible that I would be seen through my living room window having a little church of my own)  I will rest, spend time in the quietness, fill my eyeglasses prescription, deck the halls, go try to bless someone else, and just enjoy Christmas in my long awaited pretty home.

Farmer man will have to farm on without me for a few weeks.  Which after being on the receiving end of a bad throw of the keys (seriously, I was not aiming at him), he may be quite happy to do.  I wouldn’t blame him.  Like I said, I’m not perfect.

I do love the shirt that was gifted to me, just because, by a friend!  I’ll wear it again – in January!