Romantic

We live at the end of our subdivision, at a dead end. Behind our house is a large field (that will one day be filled with houses). There are horses and cows that graze there and the occasional antelope. I love it because I have a perfect view of the field when I'm doing dishes. Gotta love the simple things!

So, the other day, I'm doing dishes and I see Emma, my 6 yr old in the backyard by herself. I can't tell whether she's singing or talking to herself, but she has pulled some wild flowers (or weeds, as I like to call them) and is walking along the fence that separates our yard from the field. And as I'm watching her, I'm reminded of myself as a little girl.

I used to be such a romantic. I remember going up into the mountains with my family. I always loved the Aspen trees and the way they grow together like huge groupings of alfalfa sprouts. I would run into those trees and suddenly I was Anne of Green Gables on Prince Edward Island waiting for my beloved Gilbert to come and sweep me away. I used to make up songs and sing them, thanking God for the amazing creation all around me. Whenever we would drive down long stretches of road in the dark, I would look out and pretend we were driving over a long bridge, headed to some amazing island far away...

So, here I am in the present. I can't remember the last time I was driving somewhere and saw anything other than traffic and stoplights and the super slow person in front of me, keeping me from where I'm going. I do dream about vacations and beaches but am quickly reminded of how expensive it is and how much work it would be to get everyone packed and do I really want to spend that much time in a confined car with all of our kids? And, I definitely love my Brad, but when was the last time I thought of him as my knight in shining armor? It's been a while.

So, I guess I'm officially a grown up. Ugh.