It's 9:40am, and I'm still in my pajamas. PAJAMAS. I LOVE that word. Sometimes we change it around with the kids and call it JAPAMAS. It's just a fun word.
Anyway, I'm still in my pajamas. No semblance of order has crept into my days yet. Some weeks we are orderly and having a quiet time at 8am. Other mornings are like this. I won't tell you that I feel overwhelmed because you all already know it is Wednesday and I am overwhelmed. Oh wait, I think I just told you.
I have doled out reading assignments and looked at the writing assignment. Yes, I have actually LOOKED at the writing assignment my children were supposed to have done months ago. But now, today, it will happen. Actually I'm hoping to get more than one day today. They are almost done with math for the whole year. R has about 7 lessons left. But then we will begin again. Not because I am a die-hard but because she did a 4th grade math program this year. And we're into a rhythm that I don't like to disrupt.
You may be asking what's the point to this post? Well, I had something on my mind but haven't gotten to it yet. So here goes.
Something happened to me at the LBJ Ranch. Something jogged inside of me. I remembered how much I love the outdoors, how much I love the country and old things. Yes, I love pigs and goats and sheep and cows. Horses are pretty, but I don't know much about them. I love old barns and hay hooks and old houses. In fact I lost myself in one of the old houses. My friends poor husband had to wait on us and chase around 8 kids while I lost myself in that house. I'm truly sorry, Nick, I didn't mean to. For some reason I feel I was meant to tend cows and throw hay. I don't really think I could do it, at least not in the physical state I'm in. But it seems the desire runs through my blood. Almost a compelling. Micah says I was born in the wrong century. I wanted to know how they did everything. How did they make flour? Butter? Cheese? Dye eggs? How did they make a dime? And how did they never tire of these tasks?
First the scent of old, musty crisp things gets me. Then the breeze coming in from the screen doors. And then the sweet little ladies dressed in old time clothes. And then before I know it I'm researching the historical connection of every scrap of dusty furniture in that place. And the people. My mind reels with the thought of the wonderful people that lived in that house. I think of them washing clothes out in the hot sunshine and hanging it on the line. Or traipsing through the garden to see what needs tending and what won't make it that year. And then the ultimate cherry on top. I think of my Granny. I think of how she lived, and I miss her. I think of how her mother must have lived and her mother. I wonder at how happy they all were. How all 12 of them came back every fourth of July. And I wonder why that tradition didn't carry on to my family. What happened to my family? Disconnected. Disjointed. Different. We are all so different. And hardly a tradition for the whole family. It wasn't until I met Micah's family that I realized a family could be so much fun. But I know from Granny's stories that her family was fun. Something must happened along the way. Maybe because she was so much younger and all of those before her passed on. Maybe that was too hard for her. Or, maybe she lived so far away from everyone that they stopped getting together. I know Uncle Tommy came over all the time, but he passed on when I was about 5. He was the last of that time for her.
And then a friend's grandmother died this week. She shared some of the wonderful things her grandmother taught her. And I couldn't help but get all caught up again. If someone were to give me a little yellow house on a farm I would just be too happy.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Semblance of Normality
Posted by tpot at 7:40 AM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I can so relate to this! I feel myself relax - almost like coming home, when I am around old things. They are such a treasure. If only they could talk!!!
I can also relate to finding out what family can be like when you are an adult. I, too, discovered the fun and joy of familly with the same group of people. Aren't we lucky?!
I think all of this is part of the reason I love working with the old folks. They have shared so much and taught me even more! You take your time at those old houses. And if you find someone to give you an old house, see if they have an extra one for me. LOL!
Ditto both of you on the old houses. I love story telling furniture, houses, etc. When I see something old, I like to image the family that used it or lived in it. Rhonda gave me an old Duncan Phyfe dining room table. As we sanded and polished it, we thought about the family who sat around it, the meals of bisquits with gravy that were eaten at it. My sister says I should have been born much earlier. I have lived on a farm taking care of animals. I loved it!
Oh, I can identify with every word you wrote. I loved it. I feel exactly the same way about everything you mentioned. I feel so incredibly blessed to live where we do and have the ranch. I love the smell of the barn and the sounds around my house. I love old things (why I love going to garage sales). You would go nuts if you visited the Amish country. It is like walking into the past. I never tire of looking at my photos from there. Wish Micah could work from home and you could build on the ranch....And I am so glad you are in our family. I treasure you.
Post a Comment