When I was growing up, my family would periodically drive 5+ hours into the country to “the farm.” It was the site of my mom’s family’s original homestead dating back well into the 1800’s when they came to Texas in a covered wagon, and was still considered “home” to many of my relatives.
I received many, many gifts during those visits. A few of my fondest memories are the thrill of riding through the pasture in the back of a pickup truck, ‘driving’ said pickup truck long before my feet could reach the pedals,my deep awe of the Milky Way, Memaw’s pound cake and Texas sheet cake and Edna Hill cookies…
…and, as a city girl, the bliss of boredom. I’m sure the adults wanted to pull her hair out from all of the whiney “I’m boooorrred” comments they had to endure from the kids as they arrived for their visits. I know it took a few restless hours (or days) for my nervous system to figure out what to do with itself. And, yes, my sister and I found our fair share of trouble (and received the accompanying spankings) while we found our way through to the other side of boredom. But once we made it….. Ahhhh. Such peace and love and goodness.
Those memories still tether me to who and what I yearn to be when I find myself running, ranting, and raving. The gifts are always waiting if I just slow down enough to receive them. And so I practice. Will you join me?