Montana Woman/Atlanta Woman

Yesterday (Tuesday) I was looking at the rest of my week, noting that at 7 PM today, a contractor friend of ours from church would be coming over to talk with us about some work we’d like to do on the property.  I made a mental note to come straight home from work without running any errands, and then I went back outside to enjoy the rest of a cool, cloudy afternoon and evening.

Today I arrived home shortly before 6:30, changed clothes, and walked through the house that I  cleaned yesterday, noting that the bed was made (thank you, Honey), and that the house was generally picked up and straight.  And that in the utility room/laundry room/closet there were clean clothes waiting to be folded and that a few of our outdoor clothes were in a small pile beside the washer. I’d put them there when I removed them from the washing machine so that I could clean some of our better clothes. Walking to the front of the house, I realized that the sink was full of dirty dishes. (We don’t have a dishwasher, we ate late last night, and I value sleep more than an empty sink.) And then I walked outside to talk with John before Kevin arrived.

What would my Atlanta self have done? She would have stayed up late the night before or gotten up early this morning to wash all of the dishes, fold clothes, and run laundry. And she would have been tired all day today.

I had forgotten that one of the projects we wanted to ask him about was replacing the counter in the kitchen. So, there stood John and Kevin and I, in front of that sink full of dirty dishes for at least fifteen minutes, discussing countertop options. And y’all, you know what?  As my friend Colleen would say, “Nobody died.”  Kevin did not run from the house screaming. The dishes did not sprout legs and walk off. And I was thankful that I did not stay up late or get up early or run around like a banshee at the last minute, cleaning those dishes. Or folding the clothes.

Montana is changing me.  Montanans live and play outdoors year round, and we especially value the longer, warmer days of summer, wanting to eek every bit of life out of them.  I am learning to live a more relaxed life, realizing that when I look back on these days of ours that I will cherish the time spent outdoors in the grandeur that is Northwest Montana more than the time spent indoors cleaning the house.  John and I keep our home picked up and clean.  Who really cares, in the big picture, if there are some dishes in the sink? Or if there are a few clean clothes waiting to be folded?  No, what I will remember is fresh air on my face, chickens clucking contentedly as we put them in for the night, Boaz calling from the barn for more grain, ducks walking up to John, loudly quacking that it’s feed time, and looking around at a playful sunset that closes the evening.

Thank you, Montana.

2 Replies to “Montana Woman/Atlanta Woman”

  1. Debbie Howard says: Reply

    The grandeur and beauty of Montana helps keep everything in perspective.

  2. High five to you for sharing your story of transformation–doing what feeds your soul and makes you feel tangibly alive.

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