As I embrace my cup of coffee this morning, I try to relax. I listen to the dogs barking outside, the crow of our rooster, the tick of the big clock above our bed. I try to remember the excitement I felt when we moved here. The romance. The thrill of falling into a life of simplicity.
And yet...nothing is ever simple.
Construction continues in our building. First we must finish the new garage in order to clear out the old garage. ( not old really...we built it in the summer of 2013). Then the old garage will become our house. My brain calculates and focuses on a daily basis. Imagination goes wild trying to see my kitchen cabinets, the bath tub, the windows that aren't yet there. My heart rolls and turns and flops into some weird and mighty need to have this all done. To walk in and feel it. Touch it. Know it is finally time to stand back and adore it.
I love my husband, but his need for perfection is sometimes overwhelming. And my need to gaze out on the woods, watch the wild birds and laugh at the puppies seems to trump steadying the ladder, cutting insulation or finding that lost drill bit. This leads to friction. And slowly I realize that this entire house will be built from friction. Yikes!
It's hard to understand, I suppose. How this is a sort of limbo. An in-between life where I shamelessly wish away the days. Where I want to hurry up, hurry up....hurry up.
So, this morning, I try to breathe. Find my peace. Slow down, saddle up and go with the flow.
And I remind myself once again that nothing is ever simple.