I sit here on this dreary wet day, and consider weeding the garden in the rain, whether or not I will be camping with friends tonight… in the rain, and what the hack I should do with my day.
I sit here thinking about all the things I would like my husband to do with his free time, knowing that a honey-do list would only make matters worse. And so I prioritize them in my mind, and think of strategic ways to bring them up so as to make him want to do them instead of feel obligated to do them. I’m a horrible and manipulative wife.
I sit here listening to tractors driving by, and congratulate myself for not thinking it’s weird that tractors are driving by my house… because after all, we live in the country.
But then I realize that tractors have been driving by my house consistently for the last half hour, and though I’m a city girl by nature, I know that THIS… is just not normal.
This display of peculiar umbralla’d tractors, parading by in the rain, as far as the eye can see. Don’t even ask… because I have no idea. Welcome to the country Bethany, welcome to the country.