The Farm Life

I don't know if this is true for all dads, but it's true for this dad. Life seems to bring it's own kind of pressures.

These pressures come from unexpected places. Like when Lia, as she walks out the door to go to work, asks me to remember to bring home the cookie sheets that were left at the office after our staff Christmas party. It's the memory pressure, the camel breaking straws - the ones that are not so difficult when considered on their own merits. The challenge comes from the fact that they are add-ons. I already had a list of ten things to remember, and now I have to remember this. How in the world am I going to remember cookie sheets?

There's another kind of pressure: these usually come in announcement form. That's why I call them "The Announcement." Lia goes "the dishwasher is clean," meaning can you put the dishes away? Or Lia proclaims "the garage door won't stay down," which means that it better be down when I get home. Well, actually it means, "Ned will you stop 'fixing' the garage door and hire a real man to do it." Something like that. Those pressures get me, too. The out of the mainstream of life ones that need to be dealt with - like the fence that looks like it might fall down this year. It might fall down if I don't do anything about it. Then again, it might stay up another six months. I'd rather not real with it. I've got other things to think about, thank you. Crash! Guess those other things can wait.

Finally, there is what I refer to as "The Dripping Faucet" (which, when dripping is a pressure all it's own). My daughter has mastered this technique. Right now, she wants a farm. That's right, a house attached to a barn with animals. She has talked about it for weeks. It all started when we visited a few this fall. 

Ginger Top Farm, owned by our friends the Halls.

  Nomad Farm, owned by our friends the Nicholsons. 

Then, by accident, I took our family to visit Rob Mangum's pottery studio/estate just for fun. 

After thirty years, he's selling it. I believe it could be turned into an incredible retreat center. If you are interested in getting this idea off the ground, contact me. But Anna Rose has another idea for it. She wants to own it. 

Can you picture us here?

In her mind, it's been decided. She's been working on scale drawings, thinking through the necessary renovations, researching what kinds of goats we should get. It's all very fun. And incessant. The dripping faucet. The worst part is that she knows the technique works. Three years of asking for a dog - she get's Summer. 

Six months of asking for a turtle - she gets Squirt. And there is no one to blame for her boldness but me. 

I cave to pressure. I remember the cookie sheets (I forget my favorite hat, but I remember the cookie sheets). I fix the garage door. No handyman needed (yet). But so far, no farm. I'm standing firm on this one. Although I haven't stopped her from making plans for the chicken coop she wants me to install in our backyard. 

Oh boy. 

Here's to 2015. The year of no pressure...seriously. None. 

Anybody interested in living in Sherwood Forest? I know a house that might go on the market soon...