I want a farm truck. I want an old truck with a shot suspension system that bounces the kidlets around when I go over ruts in the pasture. I want it to have that old farm truck smell. You country kids know what I'm talking about: chain saw oil and saw dust and dirt and coffee and sweat. Mmmm. I want there to always be a pack of crackers in the glove box that the kidlets will fight over. And I won't complain about the crumbs, because it's a farm truck, for frick's sake.
I want to drive that truck over to the greenhouses where I'll be checking on the new lavender and rosemary cuttings. I want to drive it to fetch hay for the goats or a new pump for the pond or inspect the blackberry bushes for fruit.
I want to use it to hold loads of manure, loads of students visiting the nature walk, loads of picnic baskets for the guest artists staying by the lake.
I want to haul amps for the bluegrass festival in the back of the truck. I want to lie in its bed with the kids and watch a meteor shower in the back pasture, away from the lights of town.
A farm truck. That's what I want.
The thing is, I'm going to be thirty-six in two months.
Thirty-six.
Hang on. Let me say it again.
Thirty. Six.
Now, don't get me wrong. I don't think thirty-six is old. I don't think thirty-six is not cool. I am going to ROCK some thirty-six.
It's just...I sort of thought I would have it when I was thirty-six. Like, I would be in a groove. I would be settled into what I wanted to do and I would be doing it well.
And...er...I'm not.
I want a farm. A working farm with green houses and fields and goats and visitors and festivals...and a truck.
So, I've decided I'm going to get it. I'm not sure how, yet. I've contemplated erecting a greenhouse in the front yard and turning the backyard into my experiment station, but I'm not sure Will would go for that. And there's the issue of, you know, the money part. Yeah, come to find out, land costs money. So do trucks. Robbing a bank or winning the lottery seem farfetched. I'm devising other plans.
In the meantime, I'm doing things like taking cuttings of my lavender and watching them grow, stretching toward the light as they put down roots:
I'm saving seeds, reading books, researching stuff...and dreaming.
Dreaming of my farm truck, and an open space in which to drive it.
10 comments:
Oh Hannah! I have the same dream, much to my hubsters disagreement. I grew up on a farm in WY so I totally know the smells, the feelings, etc. I miss my animals, the free feeling of life there. *sigh*.
I'm surprised you haven't found someone to GIVE you a farm truck. You can't shove them off on people around here.
I don't think that's such a farfetched thing to want. But I do understand being 36 and suddenly realizing that things are NOT exactly turning out to be the picture perfect happily ever after you dreamed about.
Maybe it will happen at 37, or 47, or never-
I don't have all the answers yet, but I think if we want something bad enough maybe we have to make it happen...
Good luck! Happy 36!
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maybe your dream will just manifest itself, now that you've voiced it out into the universe. it happens.
also, i am always inspired by a woman who works a couple stalls down from me at the farmer's market -- she raised four daughters and then found her niche and passion in artisan goat cheese making. your time hasnt run out, at 36, to make this farm dream a reality. but you know that.
It's funny how life doesn't go as expected. I don't really identify with the truck and farm thing, but I DO identify with looking at what you expected and scratching your head. Then again, I will be 44 in 2 months and feel on the verge of what I always wanted and at YOUR AGE thought would only EVER be a fantasy (a writing career)--so you can get there.
One of the best feelings ever is riding in the back of the farm truck to the local fairgrounds to watch fireworks on July 4th. It's soooo dark, but the air is soft and smells wonderful.
The old blue Chevy with the plastic garbage can lid on the driver's side to keep out the elements because the window would no longer roll up. Watching the ground below the gas pedal and brake pedal because the floorboard was just about gone. Skidding sideways down a pasture hill into a tree adding yet another dent in the farm truck. Yes buddy, this was some more truck and all my guys road in it or learned to drive a stick shift in it. YEEEEEDOGGies!!!!! Farm trucks forever. Love you, darlin'.
Mom ;-)
I love that you want that truck, and you aren't afraid to say it. I believe you will get it, and the farm. How cool that you are starting to research and save. You go girl! I want to live on open space too. I want four horses and a barn. I know how it feels to dream for these things. Keep moving towards your dreams!!
i totally hope you get your farm truck.
im 33 and had hoped to have it figured out by now too. ha! i feel like right now, in this moment, im just starting to head in the right direction of having it figured out and doing what i want to do with my life.
maybe by the time im old and dying, i'll be able to say i achieved what i wanted. :)
I want to live on your farm. I have a truck. It belonged to my grandpa. It has weeds growing in the dirt on the floorboard, a permanent mystery rattle-clunk under the seat, and the original wiper blades. It can tow a tank and not break a sweat.
I love that truck. Wish I had a place to drive it...
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