Ok, well, I really married a social worker...who was a farmer...who became a prison guard...but stayed a farmer.
Following? Me either.
When the farming life is spun by those who live it, they tell you about the "together" time (sweating in a field praying you can go pack as soon as possible), the money (which is good most years...like this one...but scary during other years...and, thankfully, not the day job for either one of us), and all the time in God's great outdoors (sweating your...well, you get the picture).
What they don't tell you is the possibility of being a spectacle. It shouldn't be news, but I guess it often catches me off guard.
I'll wave back.
1 comment:
I am so glad you are blogging. While I read your posts, I pretend we're sitting at the Student Center or at Panera or at a winery, and you're spinning these wonderfully worded creations for my amusement. I feel connected to you yet so far away; don't get me wrong, I'll take partial connection over none most days. ;)
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