I love our new life here in the “big city”, but sometimes I’m caught off guard by my feelings of grief and nostalgia for our farm life. Yesterday I sold our big ‘ol riding lawn mower. We bought it with some of our wedding money two-ish years ago and can’t even turn it around in our new micro yard. There was no good reason to keep it, and 600 reasons to sell it.
I’ve shown it to a dozen people and finally found someone yesterday who was serious. He came back with a trailer and I tried desperately to get him out of here before Henry woke up. But it didn’t work. Hen heard the mower start up and immediately started bawling. He loved putting on his ear plugs and riding around the yard with me and daddy. And while here, it was his favorite thing to climb on and pretend he was on a tractor.
|Ellie getting ready for some yard work 🙂|
I lost it. I tried to explain to him that some of the cool things from our old life we had to give up, but they were replaced with other cool things that we never had before. I was sobbing and only halfway believed the b.s. myself. I wanted so much for my kids to know about farm life. I wanted to look out the window and see them taking the tractor around the field or muck a stall or play with our baby goats. I wanted them to know what it’s like to put yourself second after the life you built on a farm. Maybe one day we’ll have that again, but today all we have are wagon rides and swing sets. The city living is fun, but the leaving behind of the “simple life” isn’t.