I wish I were talking about the Firkin or another cool artifact I found on the property...but no. I am talking about me. Frankly, I am not that old, I'm only 44 years young - but I am feeling OLD today. Liam and I finished stacking the 2 cords of wood in the barn today. And when I say "Liam and I," I really mean ME for about 90 minutes and Liam for the last 30. Also, I should mention Finn helped today. He carried exactly ONE log from the pile to the barn and then exclaimed there were some "weird bugs" on the pile and disappeared. Sigh.

A stronger woman would have demanded her boys work harder. If Bill were home he would have demanded they work harder. But, and I feel the women will feel me on this one, sometimes you just want to get the job done, blasting your cheesy college tunes (Indigo Girls and The Smiths) so you can sing on the top of your lungs with no complaints, so you can start cooking dinner before dark. Am I right?

I'm paying for it now, though. My thighs are barking, my lower back is saying things to my brain like, "Don't you know where the heating pad is packed???" I feel old. Also...out of shape. How do I do all this stuff, sweat this much, move this much wood, and tools, and nonsense and still stay so out of shape??? Oh. It's because I baked a second batch of brownies. Oh. That's why. Right. Yep. Technically, they were for Finn's lunch box...how they disappeared by Wednesday...ugh, let's get to the Firkin, this is a judge free zone.

Want to hear a story about a chair? Well...I started typing it and it turns out, it's kind of boring. I'm sorry to the four or five people I told it to. Long story short, it was supposed to be chocolate brown, but they sent this one. The company feels bad about the mistake and is sending us some money back - we are cool with that because we need so much more furniture. Below is the beginning of the story that I decided to keep because that part is not boring. Also, the chair is wonderfully comfortable.

Sometimes...maybe often...I tease my husband for being so particular about every detail about our house (and all of the houses we've lived in together, not just the Firkin). I tease, but the truth is I am grateful. Whenever people have visited any of our homes they comment on how nice it is - and they were never commenting on the ball pit (yes, we had one of those with over 1000 balls and no, Bill did not really approve of that purchase). Things look nice in our houses because Bill puts a lot, and I mean a LOT of time into all of the details - everything from paint colors to accent things that I have no idea about...colors coming out in a carpet or curtain or wall hanging...he's really good at it and I'm just not. I'm happier filling the kitchen with baked goods and people or spending the rest of my life painting the walls of this old farmhouse, but ask me to choose the color? Oof. You'll end up with our mailbox. Have you seen our mailbox? I mean, it's fun, but...who wants to live inside a Skittles bag?

So the end of the story is: I'm super grateful I have a husband who cares about the details. Even though it might take half a year for the perfect light fixture or table to turn up, it's certain to be special and just right for us.