I long for a lot of stuff. But here’s what I’ve really been dreaming of lately, other than the classics like “world peace” and all that stuff.
I am so not a city girl. Not by any stretch. At.all. I really long for a place out in the country. In the sticks. Way out there where it’s a big event to go to town for groceries and church on Sunday. I would love to have acres and acres of land where we can raise goats (maybe), cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, cats and kids. Where my boys can run and climb and play in the barn.
I have such fond memories of growing up in the country and that’s I want that for my boys. I remember seeing a momma cat walking towards the house with a flat belly and running to the barn to try to find the babies. Making forts in the loft or down by the creek. I remember working on Saturdays with Dad and Luke to cut wood, clear brush and mow. The smell of burning leaves and branches at the end of the day and the hotdog roast that came after. And the poison ivy. (Well, I don’t miss it, but I certainly remember it!)
I would love to have chickens and ducks and geese. Well…maybe not geese…those buggers are mean and they poop on your sidewalk. But I love watching ducks and chickens. We had bunnies growing up and a goat. once. Until it climbed in the back of mom’s honda and kicked her in the eye. We rescued stray dogs and they were always the best pets. I’d like to try our hand at raising a bucket calf and hog. I dream of a huge garden, shelves in the basement full of home canned veggies, salsa and pickles.
I dream of hauling wood and huddling around the wood burning stove while watching winter storms rage outside. I dream of watching the spring flowers poking their heads out of the ground. I can’t drive by a patch of blooming daffodils without being transported back to the farm where I grew up and the flower patch hidden in the woods.
I would love to have horses again. I love the way they smell, even in the barn. The warmth of their breath on my shoulder. How they listen. The feel of their legs walking under you when you’re walking down the road on their back. They way they breath when they run. Watching little ones pick handfuls of grass and poke it through the fence then pull their hands back squeeling.
While not pleasant, I remember walking out of the front door some mornings and smelling a skunk the dogs cornered in the barn. I still laugh about the time Kerry and I (we bought the farm I grew up on when we were first married) were sleeping with the windows open. We heard something run by underneath the windows and the dogs chasing close after. Then came the smell. We sat up coughing, sputtering and choking on that ripe skunk smell. We couldn’t get the windows closed fast enough.
Sure I know it’s work…but man…that’s the kind of work I like to do. It’s the kind of work that lets you sleep at night and makes you feel like you got something done. It’s where I want to raise my kids, watch my flowers grow and grow old with the man I love. For now, that place just exists in my dreams and in my “someday”. It’s what I long for.