I’ve attempted to write this post twice. For some reason, the words just won’t flow. I could make a few confessions to you. Or expound on a few happy moments from this past week. I could write a tutorial or give you a new canning recipe. But like I said, my brains are scrambled. And so, I’m going to share my scrambled life with you today.
Forgive the poor grammar and misspelled words.
Where shall I begin?
This season of life is incredibly busy and so unique, I don’t have anything to compare it to. Normally, the autumn season is taken up with harvesting, hunting and butchering. I’m usually busy stocking the larder or catching the last bits of fall with friends and neighbors.
But this year?
Oh baby! This year is completely and totally different. And I think I lost my brain somewhere along the way.
I’ve been scrambled. There isn’t a ‘normal’ in this season. We’re everywhere (literally).
Mentally, I’m adjusting my kitchen management mindset. Due to a smaller garden, our grocery costs are going to be higher throughout the winter. I find myself wishing we had a stockpile of winter squashes, that I’d put up corn, that we had more root vegetables tucked away, that the freezer was a bit fuller.
What held us back anyway?
Oh yes! We’re building a house.
It’s nothing, really!
My man only leaves at morning’s light and comes home with the dark. I work by his side as best I can. Sometimes, I can. And other times, I can’t. Sometimes, I’m too busy caring for little gremlins. Or so I affectionately call them.
My brother has been here, helping us build while I take care of his 3 children. My sister in law is having some serious health complications and needs the quiet that doesn’t come with 3 pre-teen kids in the house.
As difficult as the little family’s circumstances are, and while I desperately pray and wish things were different for them, the extra help has been invaluable.
Because of the extra hands, we’re back filling around the water line today and also the house walls and footings. The outhouse is framed up. We now have a winter supply of firewood. The electrical inspection for our power shed happened and though it failed, only took a day to set things right. Which means we will soon have power.
Which also means I’ll soon be setting up the power shed for living quarters. Which doubly means I need to continue packing things up, even though we’re having an onslaught of company throughout the entire month of November. And then more afterward, to help with the house wiring.
See what I mean? Life is scrambled!
I haven’t hardly seen anyone outside of the people in my home. I can count on one hand… on 5 fingers to be exact… the number of interactions I’ve had with my girl friends these past 8? 9? 10? weeks. I haven’t been to church in eons because Sunday is our only day off and I dread going into large groups when I’m this tired. Because people ask questions and I have to answer.
Hello Autumn! How are you?
“Tired.”
What have you been up to?
“House building.”
How’s that going?
“Autumn chokes back the tears.”
It isn’t that bad all the time. It’s just that I have my moments, like any normal woman would. Know what I mean? And I actually don’t need hugs or sympathy. But if I could sleep for a week instead of just on Sunday, that would be wonderful!
I miss my man. I know it’s time to hustle, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m a wife. The other day I pulled my husband into the pantry and gave him a good, long kiss. Because I miss the guy. These days, conversation revolves around lumber, concrete and dirt. It centers on tar paper and the location of outhouse holes. Good, wholesome, necessary stuff like that.
We’re riding the wave of scrambledness. It’s all part of the package. I keep reminding self to keep her eyes on the finished result. And when I do, I’m quickly reminded that it’s worth the craziness. On more levels than one!
Actually, when I consider the end result, it’s quite amazing how short this period of hustling actually is. It will be over soon.
Life will return to normal and we’ll have a home, a mortgage and a wee bit of land that we are responsible to care for.
And so? Bring it on! After I’ve slept a week, that is.
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