Even though I’m not finished morphing myself into a healthier Me, I have apparently spent the past six months turning myself into some return-to-nature hippie type.  I didn’t see it that way as I progressed along my path to better health, but I’ve come to realize that I am viewed that way from the outside world.  Okay, I guess that’s fine by me.  There are definitely worse things I could be and at least I still shave my armpits daily.

More and more often these days, I feel like who I am, is changing.  I thought by 34 years of age, it was a fixed thing.  I thought that changing who I am was for the young, who wanted excuses to flounder around, visit foreign countries and basically shirk responsibility until they found themselves. 

As much as I am not a fan of time change, I realized recently that my ducks are not huge fans of it either.  In fact, they ignore it all together, which I think is brilliant!  Now, after thinking about this for a while, it should be completely obvious.  The time changed this past weekend.  Our Cayuga ducks just started laying eggs about a month ago.  For the past few weeks we let them out to pasture for the day while we got ready to take Cameron to school.  This was about an hour after sunrise.  After they were out, we would slip inside their pen and collect some of the eggs they laid.

I have a full day, every day, despite the claim of a male firefighter friend, who says that I don’t really have much to tire me out each day.  The difference is I don’t report to an employer, receive a regular paycheck, or sit around complaining or bemoaning my situation.  I’m not one to wallow in self- pity.  In this particular case though, I have actually chosen to cut my friend some slack because he is a hard worker.  He is also single, has no kids, and is not imaginative enough to even begin to fathom what life is like for me.  I have been the recipient of this comment in the past thoug

By this point in life, I expect that there are many lessons still to be learned.  I do not know everything and I’m honest enough with myself now to be able to admit that.  There are certain lessons though, that I figure I should know pretty well by now.  For example, the sun still rises in the East and sets in the West.  All bleeding stops eventually.  Without water, plants and animals will die and in order to continue most species, both a male and female are required.  These are basic lessons, right?  Ma’ Nature just handed me my backside on a platter yesterday though.

Today the girls and I have made ourselves slaves to our chest freezer.  We are conducting a bizarre experiment to see if we can save some of our gallons of raw milk for future use.  I’ve set my alarm clock and every half hour, we go out and shake our gallons, which are now a slushy consistency. 

I want to be free.

I want to think freely.

I want to be free to think freely.

I want to learn and never stop learning.

I want to dig for answers and gain understanding as my reward, not blindly swallow schooling from a spoon and regurgitate it in a classroom.

I want to work at something and have results as my just remuneration.

I want to please and be pleased.

I want to like despite being liked.

I want to break the mold, not fit the mold.

This week happens to be Career Week in my daughter's kindergarten class.  As most of you know, my older two girls are homeschooled again, but my youngest wanted to finish out the school year before she joins us full time again next year.  So, when her teacher sent home a letter last week asking if any parents wanted to volunteer to come in and talk to the class we accepted. 

Last weekend it was brought to my attention that my husband is sexist.  Yeah, who knew?  I mean, you think you know a person.  You share your life, your love, your hopes and efforts for fourteen years, only to find out that the world you’ve created for yourselves is a sexist’s utopia.  Sweet!