A Sunday drive...

wasn't what I had in mind today. In fact when my {frozen & exhausted} husband called this morning, I barely let him get "hey - what are you doing today?" out of his mouth before responding {in an unpleasant tone} "Ian - just tell me what do you need me to do?"
This happens often. These phone calls that aren't just "checking in" ... but requesting services ... they happen all. the. time.
I'm trying to have a better attitude. I'm trying to answer the phone with a smile in my voice, but I haven't been as successful as I know God wants me to be. I'm learning ... and as I learn, I know I'm getting better ... but oh, is it a process.

I was raised in a home where Sundays were all about church, meals together, and sports on TV. We relaxed. We took naps. We read a book if we felt like it. We {rested}. And no one thought twice about doing things that weren't easy. Other days of the week were pretty scheduled too, and you almost always knew what to expect on any given day.

I am now the mother and wife and homemaker of a farm/ranch family ... and a teacher too. Any plans I attempt to make {change}. The days never go according to plan & I've learned to just roll with it - or live in misery. My calendar is in pencil ... and lately - it's been blank.
I used to make lists, plan dinner dates, and know that I could keep my word.
I still make lists, dinner dates with friends do happen once in a while, but that "keeping my word" thing ... well, it just doesn't happen, because I find myself not planning out loud anymore. That's not a bad thing, it's {just life} right now.

Today ...

the boys and I enjoyed a great morning together - breakfast, church ... we even matched. :) Silly - I know, but it's fun once in a while.
We got home, checked mouse traps, and fixed grilled cheese for lunch. Naps, a movie, comments on report cards, cookies, laundry, painting with Mason... those were all ideas I had tentatively made in my head. And then... the phone rang.

I wanted to be excited that my husband was calling from the mountain pasture. He's been gone for a couple of days. I wanted to answer with a perky "hello" instead of "yes?"
We have missed him. I have missed him.
But... I knew with the phone call, came the crossing out of my plans.... and my tone was anything but pleasant or cheery.

15 minutes later...

I unlocked the semi trailer. I loaded several 50 lb. salt blocks into the back of the pickup by myself. I transferred car seats. I loaded the boys and the dogs into the pickup. I drove to the feed store. I left my sleeping boys (please don't turn me in) in the pickup as I helped load 50 pound bags of mineral into the back of the pickup. I signed the charge slip. I drove 45 miles. I unloaded the salt blocks and mineral by myself.

And then...

as I drove the 45 miles back to our home, I decided to stop along the way, climb through a fence and take pictures of a pickup I've loved from the first time I saw it when I made my way up Buttercreek Hwy. a few years ago.
I smiled as cows stood on the pavement staring me down.
I crossed about 14 cattle guards - twice.
And somehow, the bitterness and resentment of {losing} my day for our cattle and their unborn calves at the request of my husband disappeared.

I have a life I dreamed of as a child. The one where you walk into the feed store and they know your name. The one where my oldest son knows which barn belongs to which rancher along the winding road toward Karl's. The one where cattle guards, and cattle crossing signs mark your way. The one where loading and unloading mineral and salt is hard work, but it's my work. The one where I am stronger than I ever thought I would or could be. The one where I'm content with less and happy to give more. The one that I live today.

and the mice ... well, I guess they can't read because I left the letter in the cupboard - right in front of the trap ... and those dummies - they continue to invade ... and DIE.