As I sit here at the kitchen table sipping my first cup of coffee (arguably the best part of the day), LaBamba is staring at me from the window. I swear the men who built this house built my parent’s house, because they both have identical ledges; when I was growing up the cats jumped on it to watch us and now our cats do the same thing. If the window is open, they meow at us through the screen until we close it or shut them up using various nefarious methods. I love looking out that window and she’s blocking my view. From it, I can: see who has driven up to our house since our dog doesn’t bark (her only flaw in my eyes), watch the cattle in the pasture-especially when there is calves running around being silly, view my flower beds and smile at their colors, and watch my little one shoot cans from atop a fence post. It’s a window to the soul of our farm and every house on a farm has one. I think it’s what people are searching for when they say they want to live on a farm. Because let’s face it, social isolation, hours of hard work (that lawn will not mow itself nor will the weeds bow down to your commands) and the extra gas money you spend aren’t the features of living here. But mornings like this are; here is what I see when I look out it this morning:
Yep, I love living here. So here’s to your Saturday morning; may you find your window to look out of and see the good which is out there. We shouldn’t be afraid of hard work because the results are well worth it. I am going to have a very busy weekend, but I am still taking time to look out my window.