I spent the past 7 days just trying to keep up.
Husband was away, house-sitting on the other side of the city. Which left me with the house, garden, and animals to care for on my own.
The fact is, Husband and I have created a wonderful life for ourselves, but it is a life meant to be lived and stewarded by two. It was hard to do it on my own. Some days felt like I was on a hamster wheel–one that never slows down and never stops.
The workdays all sort of ran together, and responsibilities outside of work were a jumbled mess–barn cleaning, picking tomatoes, picking up and delivering produce, making meals, feeding the animals, etc., etc., etc.
It seemed a lifetime as I slogged through the week, but eventually Friday evening rolled around and with it came time.
Time with Husband. Time with friends. Time to sit, relax, enjoy. We spent nearly five hours Friday night picking crabs, talking and laughing with dear friends. Some pretty heavy thunder storms raged around us, but since the house we were at is on stilts, we were dry and safe underneath. The night air was lit with a dozen citronella lamps, keeping the mosquitoes at bay and adding a special summer ambiance to the evening.
It was hours before anyone even thought to look at the time–which is exactly the kind of evening I needed.
It was past midnight by the time I got home, patted the puppy on the head and literally fell into bed.
Saturday morning dawned early, but I stayed where I was–curled up with the pup beside me. Oh how glorious it is to sleep in on Saturday!
It didn’t last forever though, there were things to do, more to keep up with. The house was an utter disaster after the week I’d had and it was time to face it.
But first, I made a cup of tea and a pot of coffee and snuck over to the blueberry farm where Husband was pruning blackberry bushes. Some might say that 15 minutes of small talk isn’t worth the half hour drive each direction. And some days, I’m one of them. But after a week of hardly seeing Husband at all, those 15 minutes were well worth it.
As I drove home, I mentally ticked off the things I had to do. And it was a long list.
I got started at once, finishing one chore after another–methodically working my way through the house and down the list. By early afternoon, I was beginning to wane.
But once again, the rain saved me.
It started slowly, just a few drops here and there as I trimmed the front bushes. Then the thunder rolled in and the lightening started. Before long, it was all out storming again.
The puppy and I opened the front door and let the fresh air in the house as the rain cooled off the muggy heat. We watched with fascination as the storm pounded down outside our porch. Then we sat down and it wasn’t long before I was fast asleep.
I woke up refreshed, but the world around me was still soggy and thunder continued to shake the house. I lit a candle just for the fun of it and spent the next few hours organizing the study and cataloging my library (while that may seem dreadfully boring to some, to me it was delightful bliss).
That evening, Ginger and I watched a 1969 version of David Copperfield and enjoyed the sound of rain on the roof.
It seems the rain is my link to slowing down. When it comes, I’m forced to forget all those things that “need” to be done, and instead focus on resting, slowing, being, living.
Maybe I need more rain in my life…