I came home from a 12 hr day and the sweet lovable husband asks, “Watchya cooking tonight?”
I stare meaningfully at the clock which now reads 9 p.m. and try to mentally send him a message that he shouldn’t even go there. Instead I ask.
“How was your day?”
“Good! I hardly did anything!”
I digest that for a moment. Often when I am not home to either nag or remind him, he sort of lets some of the things we do on the farm slide by. He gets distracted easily. I get that part.
He lays back on the couch and smiles. He informs me that he visited with the neighbor and welded some things with him. Inwardly I smile. It sounds like he visited quite a bit with the neighbor. This is a good thing.
I begin to forgive him for not busting his chops while I was gone. After all, he had really been staying on task for the past month which is incredible for him.
Fast forward to this morning. In the daylight I see that the yard looks terribly shabby and overgrown. If it weren’t so wet I’d just run an electric line around the yard and let the mules in. I see that the stock tanks weren’t watered. I mentally tick off all of the things I would have gotten done in those very same 12 hours that I had spent at work. The yard would be mowed and trimmed, the tanks brimming with water, … no dirty dishes in the sink…and then I stop.
I decide to hold my tongue for peace’s sake. To rant and rag on him for not mowing, not doing things to my specifications will only earn me a dirty look and and unhappy man.
And I don’t want to do that on the day he is going to go pick up his Grandson and bring him here for a few days.
Instead of brewing and stewing, I grab my tripod and boots and slog through the wet grass to look for dew drops on spider webs in the morning fog. I am not disappointed.
I come in and make coffee. When he gets up, I hand him a cup of java and smile. Cranky Woman go away!
“Will you water the big tank today before you leave please?” [See? I could say it without being snarky.]
He gives me that brilliant smile I have learned to love over the years and says sure!
I take that Cranky Woman who is tired and feels a bit stressed over things that really are not a big deal…and I want to stuff her in a closet.
So instead, I prepare tomatoes for freezing so I can process them for canning later, I clean up the house, pick things up, sweep, do the dirty dishes that were stacked from my day away from home, and set things in order.
After all, tomorrow morning I will wake up Cranky again. But I will have my husband and a ten year old who will ask me, “Whatchya cooking?”