Really bad poetry- you've been warned.

"Tis the night before fair and all through the house,

our belongings are strung amid mess, socks, and sawdust.

The club banner and name signs reside

on the suburban front seat

beneath the sheep cards, shears and rakes.

The laundry is strewn like dandelion fluff,

trailing through the kitchen and into the hall.

Kids are asleep still wearing their boots.

(They've been warned that I don't care if they wear thongs on their feet- my job's to make sure they don't forget the sheep).

Dining's not an option at the dining room table.

Archaeological digs might find layers of paper, glue, felt, stickers, and lotion (don't ask).

Our poor dog is lost in all the commotion.

The kitchen remodel is coming along.

Luckily, food's not a priority, there are more important tasks.

Thank goodness record books were due early.

Now if only we can keep them looking neat and pretty

Until they reach the club display booth.

Things feel way too in control tonight-

Surely something remains to be done, but for now... I'm headed to bathe and make myself smell girly.

Bad Dreams

Early this morning I had a dream about Dave. In the dream I realized that I should have tried texting him (because technology is just THAT good, lol). When I texted he answered. Then he came over. The gist of the dream was that he wasn't dead- and I was FURIOUS because he hadn't contacted the kids (for some reason the fact that he'd ignored me too wasn't an issue). Apparently he'd gone into some sort of job training program (like Job Corp?) and had decided that he just couldn't do what he needed to do while dealing with all of us.

I know it was just a dream. I know it was ridiculous. I know that Dave was NEVER like that. But- I'm still having a hard time getting past the mad feeling.

The whole dream could be a sign that I've been dithering over whether to keep Dave's phone line going or not. I want to save the outgoing message but I haven't actually taken the time to do so. Until the message is saved off of there- I'm willing to keep paying for the phone line- because when I need to I can hear my husband's voice. I can even leave him a message if I want to.

We're in the middle of getting ready for fair. The sheep weigh in next Tuesday and our club scrapbook and record books need to go in on Monday when we decorate stalls. When I'm busy and overwhelmed I tend to project my feelings about one issue onto another issue (or person, or event). Before Dave died I was much better at seeing my own motivation for actions. I was also better at recognizing emotions and knowing why I felt the way I did.

This evening I'm wondering if maybe I'm a little mad at Dave for leaving- and leaving me with all the work and all the kids to raise. I know he didn't have a choice, and had he been offered a choice- he would have done almost anything to stay (except trading his life for one of ours). I still love the man like crazy. He's been dead for almost two years and I still find myself getting irritated with him on occasion. I don't want to be mad at him, especially when there's nothing he can do to make it better. There's no action anyone can take to change the outcome.

This is my life. I love it. Come hell or high water... this is mine. My family. My home. My choices. My decisions. My life. It wasn't all that long ago that it was OUR life. Even though it seems like it's been a long time- it hasn't been all that long. I miss OUR life. I miss having someone to share the joys and the responsibilities and someone to take care of (but not like a parent caring for a child). I miss my honey. He was also MINE. Apparently I don't do well letting go of my stuff or my people.

Here's hoping that tonight brings sweeter dreams...