Weekends

Our weekend are usually pretty quiet. I guess I should correct that and say MY weekends usually are, unless of course the kids come home - then it's non-stop busyness and laughter.  But sadly those times are few and far between.  On those weekends when I am alone, I tend to lounge around for the mornings in my P.J.'s, and spend the afternoon reading in the sun.  Farmer on the other hand, is always busy this time of year. With baling hay, combining wheat, mouwing {not sure if that’s how you spell it - but this is when it’s put it in the barn} straw, and of course hauling manure. Ugh! Tis the season I guess. Everywhere you go some farmer if not the other is hauling this crap stuff everywhere. I know I know, there is value in it. To farmers it’s brown liquid gold, enriching the land with the many nutrients, vitamins and minerals needed for next years crop. Hahaha, listen to me, I sound just like a farmer!

ok so what’s your point… ..mhmm.. . good question!

As I sit outside either here {gazebo} or here {new thinking spot} alone for the umpteenth time, I find myself thinking…. and realize that I love it out there er, um here, on the farm.  Of course there are times when I think to myself how nice it would be in town.  We'd be closer to the stores,  the park, the restaurants and for Wayne - Dairy Queen. 

But generally speaking, you just can't beat the quiet of the country.  So rather than being jealous of what I don't have, I am thankful - or rather tyring to be thankful for what I do have.

Blessings