We’re still not done planting.
There’s rain in the forecast. Again.
Patience (and sandwich meat) is running out.
I am convinced all of the radio stations play the same 27 songs on repeat.
My stay-awake candy has turned into a sticky mess from the heat of this glass box.
There’s a black spider the size of quarter trying to find its way in the door of the tractor. Which basically means I’m stuck in here until it gives up or someone on the outside squishes it, because I’m not opening that door.
The gnats are horrible, even inside the cab.
And I’ve had a headache since my eyelids flipped open this morning.
Did I mention that we’re still not done planting and there’s rain in the forecast?
With rain, equipment failures, more rain, lack of sleep, waiting on fertilizer, thunderstorms popping up out of nowhere, and all of the mud, (oh, the mud!) this feels like the spring that never ends.
And then, I noticed the sunset. A perk of this farming gig.
A subtle reminder that the good man upstairs knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s all going to be okay.
That when I was trying to figure out what I was doing for the summer and felt a tug to be home, He knew we weren’t going to be done with field work and I was going to be spending my first few weeks of break in the tractor.
A reminder of all the good and happy parts of farming–the family, the smell of freshly turned soil, peace, home.
A reminder to “Let Go and Let God.”❤
(Side note– notice the dirty door? Apparently the rain and hail on Tuesday missed one side of the tractor.🤦♀️😂)
