Today I am wistful for the farm. I want to flyaway there now. I want to go tromp over the hill, round up some goats, stare out at the sunset over the next rolling ridge, and breathe it all in deeply. I want to lay in the field and stare at the clouds.
And I want it to be mine. Now.
Every now and then I have some trouble finding my patience and holding on. I don’t mean to be whiny or ungrateful or even impatient. It’s just that I miss it. I miss something I have never even had. How loco is that?
Sunday we go out to do the inspection at the farm while our realtor host an Open House at our place.
I cannot wait. It sounds wacky to type out-loud but I am pretty sure that my bones are achy for it.
The last time I felt this way I was pregnant with Miles. I could not wait to hold him, to feel his skin, to see his eyes look into mine, to know him.
I know the farm is just that ,a farm. Land, house, pond. I know it is probably crazy to feel this bone achy-ness for a piece of property.
But somehow I think you will understand completely. You get it don’t you?
(I knew you would.)