It had already been a long, hard week when my husband called me from his cell phone to tell me that he was sitting on the tractor we borrowed and it was stuck in mud. Could I come and help get him out? he asked. I laughed. Not because he was stuck, but because he actually thought I could be of some help in the situation.
Me? Help? Really?!! What in the world could I do? I wouldn’t know where to begin to get a tractor un-stuck.
Well, there was one thing to do: call a neighbor for help.
I keep finding myself showered with gifts.
Not the kind that come in a box, or wrapped up in bows.
But the other kind. You know, the kind that matters the most.
Oh yeah, I’ve got one, a secret. Do you?
Are you someone who can be trusted with secrets? I can. My lips are sealed tightly. My grandmother used to say, “Now, don’t you tell it…” (I hear her voice saying that now as I write it.) I learned not to. I did NOT tell it. Now that I think about it, it’s kinda funny that I blog because I’m actually a very private person. I think I feel safe because Farmgirls are such a sweet, supportive, loving group of women. Aren’t we!
But I don’t mind whispering my own secrets to you. My secret is one of the reasons I’ve been pulling out my hair the last six months. Continue reading