Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Living Life Less Fabulous

All things are well here.
Nothing much new to report.
My sister is moved and loving Crown Point.
I visited family in Missouri and dodged tornadoes.
Glenco and Aaron are well - thriving even.

The chickens are happy and healthy -  I'm waiting, as I type, on a farmer from Watseka, IL to 
stop by and pick up Lord Grantham.
Its been a hard decision to re-home my rooster - but a decision has been made.
He's a fine chap - but he's just too rough on the hens.  I can't think of a word to describe him.  
It's somewhere between rambunctious and barbaric.
My hens need Rogaine.
Not on my watch L.G. - not on my watch.

The bees are busy and things feel set aright now that I have my boxes full of them again.

The garden - well - the garden is under big time construction.
We've taken down all the wooden 'shabby chic' picket fences. 
At some point during the Polar Vortex they crossed that fine line, going from 
'Shabby Chic' to 'Meth House'.

We are going to replace it with the old wire fence I have.

garden gate and fencing.
from Pinterest

When we took it all down to repair and repaint it - Glenco and I just kind of looked at each other like 'you feel like doing this again when your 70?  Ya, me either.'

I'm reseeding some of the gardens with grass seed.
Although it will save time in the future, it's a ridiculous amount of work right  now.

Some things in my life are coming to an end.

Saying yes to all of this yard work has me saying no to other things in my life.
Other things that I want to say yes to.

Bike rides.
Camping trips.
Feeling like things are 'done'.
Day trips.
Knitting socks.
Not smelling like Icy Hot.
Weekends of 'what to do?'
Motorcycle rides to no where.

It's hard to see seasons of life go.
It's hard to admit that you can't do it all anymore.
When your gardens have been fabulous, when you are 'known' for them - it's hard to let that go.
When you are known for your baking - it's hard to see that gone.
When you are known for your humor - it's hard to go through a quiet season.

It seems that right now - everything I've been 'known' for - is gone.
It leaves me feeling a bit lost.
It leaves me feeling.
It leaves me.

This whole business of downsizing - minimizing - it's been quite a journey.
Things are less fabulous.
I don't do a lot of fabulous crafts anymore.
My home is less fabulously decorated.
The gardens aren't 'tour bus' worthy anymore.
There seems to be something in me - or maybe you too - when you like old junk - when flowers feed your very soul - when making home is your passion - there seems to be a propensity to wear yourself flat out.
You work your fool head off to make your life Pinterest worthy.
For what?

I'm going to tell you a little secret that has taken me 52 years to figure out.


So here's to a life less fabulous, but more fulfilling.  
Here's to meals that I make that never get photographed and put on a blog. 
Here's to ordinary days filled with extraordinary moments that never get put in a status update.  
Here's to less stuff but more time.
Here's to smaller gardens, better tended.
Here's to more soul time.

Here's to exhaling - and being a human being, instead of a human doing.
Here's to being delightfully average.
And here's to being OK with it.