Being Glad

Farmer Boy returns from the wilderness today.  His time of hunting and providing for us in a faraway place is over, at least this time around.  I'm ready.  It seems like when he is gone, Thursday or Friday rolls around and a deep tired settles over me.  Ma Ingalls gets a little weary doing it all by herself.  Those darn eggs.  Those darn chickens.  It's not all about carrying a basket of clean eggs into town while the wind teases my hair causing me to look  beautiful and content as the blue sky and sunshine accompany me. It may have happened on TV to the real Ma Ingalls but it didn't happen to me this week.  Instead of going into detail I'll give you a few words and then I'll leave it alone - poop, freezing, broken, stinky, feathers, crazy, flying, dumb, chickens.  All right.  I'm done.  One more - poop.

Today I am doing laundry, changing sheets and more laundry.  I have to walk through my family room to get to my washing machine.  Two weeks ago my family room looked like this:

Every seat was taken.  Farmer Boy didn't have a seat, he had to sit on the floor.  Family everywhere.

It was messy.  It was loud.  It was necessary.  It was a blessing.

Today my family room looks like this.

It is empty.  There are no bottoms occupying any of the seats.  Does the couch look a little forlorn to you?  Don't you think the recliner looks a little pathetic, sitting there, arms wide open, waiting to hug someone, envelope them with all of its plush comfort?  No one.  Nowhere.  It's clean, it's quiet.  It's empty.  

I love quiet.  I love clean.  I love noisy, messy, family.  I'm glad there are times for both.

I'm glad Farmer Boy is coming back tonight.