farmers wife | harvest nights.

Harvest officially started for us yesterday, which happened to be the same day munchkin left for three days for her 7th grade trip. That means I’ve been left unattended for much longer than I’m comfortable with. So without both my people home the last couple days I’ve been a little lost. I’m not used to so much me time, so much quiet time, and so much time to sit down without being needed for something. I have taken to drowning my loneliness in guilty pleasures… and rosé.

After work, I spent longer than normal at the gym, without an ounce of guilt. Then I took a really hot shower, and sang Ke$ha’s new song, praying, extremely loud, and totally on key. I then popped my bleaching trays in and slathered my face in every face cream under my bathroom sink… right in time for the husband to call needing a ride. Hold the cucumbers. Never fails. So much for pulling up to the field looking all cute—NOPE, I looked like I took a bath in butter. Didn’t stop me from stealing a couple kisses before dropping him off at his tractor.

After that I somehow (I’m not sure how) 🤷🏼‍♀️ ended up in the drive thru at Culver’s. I like to pretend it’s not fast food but rather farm-to-table done fast. Once I ruined my workout, I got two more calls to head to the field. More kisses for me. This harvest is getting off to a good start! Now I am curled up in the hubs recliner and enjoying inappropriate humor from the one and only Amy Schumer, because when the first chapter is titled An Open Letter to My Vagina… that’s a book you have to read. (Preferably when your tribe is away so you can laugh out loud uncontrollably). Hashtag farm life.

Here’s to another year, and another harvest! Thank a farmer (or kiss one if your lucky enough to!)

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