Okay, so my mom will be here tomorrow. Wow, the months have flown! Before her visit I had planned to--
cover the un-planted half of my garden with tarps and hay.
pre-cook a bunch of meals.
buy rugs for the sleeping porch and the reading room upstairs.
plant more flowers along two sides of our house.
sweep our whole barn loft, clean it out, and hang things for the beginning of our 'museum'.
dig a fire pit and surround it with rocks.
prepare our bedroom downstairs so my mom can stay there.
paint our front stairs, our kitchen, two walls of our living room, our guest room, our half-bath-maybe-someday, two chairs, the stairwell and our entire sleeping porch.
mow three acres (or so) of our land.
wash, repair and clean everything and make this place appear as though we've lived here 20 years.
You know. Stuff like that.
But alas, I've done probably just a tad more than half of that. And like I said, she's coming tomorrow.
But you know? All along I've reminded myself of something I wish to live by. And it is this:
The process is just as important as the finished product.
When--later-- I look at the barn loft, I do not want to think, "Oh yeah. This is the space where I went ballistic because I only had an hour to work on it and I didn't finish it in time and I got all mad at Tom because he interrupted me, needed my help with something, and then we had a great big, fat fight."
cover the un-planted half of my garden with tarps and hay.
pre-cook a bunch of meals.
buy rugs for the sleeping porch and the reading room upstairs.
plant more flowers along two sides of our house.
sweep our whole barn loft, clean it out, and hang things for the beginning of our 'museum'.
dig a fire pit and surround it with rocks.
prepare our bedroom downstairs so my mom can stay there.
paint our front stairs, our kitchen, two walls of our living room, our guest room, our half-bath-maybe-someday, two chairs, the stairwell and our entire sleeping porch.
mow three acres (or so) of our land.
wash, repair and clean everything and make this place appear as though we've lived here 20 years.
You know. Stuff like that.
But alas, I've done probably just a tad more than half of that. And like I said, she's coming tomorrow.
But you know? All along I've reminded myself of something I wish to live by. And it is this:
The process is just as important as the finished product.
When--later-- I look at the barn loft, I do not want to think, "Oh yeah. This is the space where I went ballistic because I only had an hour to work on it and I didn't finish it in time and I got all mad at Tom because he interrupted me, needed my help with something, and then we had a great big, fat fight."
For me, that would mar the enjoyment of what 'my hands had wrought.'
It matters to me that the final product brings back pleasant memories, that I was awake during the process. Took my time and maybe even hummed a tune and smiled a lot.
And well, really, you don't know how often these past three months I've practically forced myself to switch out of 'hurry up mode'. Over and over I've reminded myself to enjoy, enjoy rather than race, race. I've slowed my pace and even stopped at times to regroup inside my head.
And that has made all the difference.
And now I have a few small projects left which perhaps my mom and I can finish together. She's a crafty person and enjoys creative work. There will be days when Tom has the car at work and we'll be here alone and now there will be plenty to do.
It will be a Good Thing, as Martha says. Always, there's something to be done on a farm and how wild and crazy of me to have imagined I could have done it all alone and in three months! ツ
*****
It matters to me that the final product brings back pleasant memories, that I was awake during the process. Took my time and maybe even hummed a tune and smiled a lot.
And well, really, you don't know how often these past three months I've practically forced myself to switch out of 'hurry up mode'. Over and over I've reminded myself to enjoy, enjoy rather than race, race. I've slowed my pace and even stopped at times to regroup inside my head.
And that has made all the difference.
And now I have a few small projects left which perhaps my mom and I can finish together. She's a crafty person and enjoys creative work. There will be days when Tom has the car at work and we'll be here alone and now there will be plenty to do.
It will be a Good Thing, as Martha says. Always, there's something to be done on a farm and how wild and crazy of me to have imagined I could have done it all alone and in three months! ツ
*****
3 comments:
And I bet your Mom will be happy that she gets to be part of the early days of this great adventure, when things are not so much done! And, as you say, part of helping you move forward with your plans. Have a wonderful time together!
You have come a long way from that person that was looking for a home. You see you have a home and I'm sure your mother will be happy that you are happy no matter how complete you list of "to dos" is.
This was such a great post! There's something Zen about it, in a very Christian way, of course.
I took a field trip on my blog yesterday. I think you'll like it.
Enjoy your Mom!
Hugs,
Annie
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