We had the AC company come hook the swamp cooler up this morning. Which was such a blessing seeing as we had been baking in our beds all week and had resorted to sleeping on the porch.
I had such an interesting stirring as they worked outside - climbing all over the house, yelling orders, banging things against the windows. It was like being a kid again, kneeling by my parents' bedroom window as the crew broke ground for our first swimming pool in steamy Arizona.
There was something homey about it - this was my fortress and I was the keeper of it. I wanted to kneel by the window and watch, I wanted to take them lemonade like we had years ago. I sat for a moment wondering if I just enjoyed watching people do manual labor. But it wasn't that. I actually wanted to go out and help, I wanted to climb all over the house plugging in hoses, wiping sweat from my brow. It was envy. I wanted to be the one digging in the dirt, showing the fruits of my labor. Taking care of the home I live in. Standing by it with a grin on my face and a first place ribbon in my hand.
But instead I sat on the couch reading Brenda Ueland - which isn't a bad thing - and I'm sure others envy my peaceful morning. But I've never been one to want to be lazy. I need purpose, something that will move my limbs and show that I have been productive as hell today. And I have the dirty fingernails to prove it.
I found myself actually missing yard work. Missing those early (and I mean early) Saturday mornings when Mom and Dad would drag us out of bed to weed, pick citrus, seed the grass. I missed those mornings where we fortified our fortress, our home that protected us through all the dust storms, Arizona monsoons, and the wiles of world.
And I realized that I couldn't wait to drag my own kids out of bed, and alongside my husband and rat pack stand by our prize and with grins on our faces wipe the sweat from our brow and show our dirty fingernails.
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