this is what a pint of starbucks ice cream at 9 pm will do

(written Friday 3:30 am)
It took me til 3 am to realize why I was awake.

But in the mean time, my mind was racing with thoughts of farmhouse living. Having grown up in the suburbs, I'm sometimes torn between the idea of either living in a historic bungalow downtown in the midst of everything, or owning several acres of property in the countryside. More and more though I'm drawn to what I suppose you would call homesteading... an extensive garden, canning, quilting, keeping some chickens, keeping it simple.

There is a humility I admire about farmers and country folk... salt of the earth people who aren't afraid to work hard and get dirty. They like it, in fact. From the many, many drives I've made through the back country of southern and central Indiana, I find myself longing for a house on a hill and a stretch of land to call my own. With no homeowners association.

But for now I'm getting my feet wet in my (very) modest garden, still living in the suburbanite middle ground. Putting down roots... it seems that will come later.
1. Clothesline, 2. Dutton Farm, Frichton, Indiana, 3. Gardens at the Huddleston Farm House, 4. Birthday present