I have a confession to make, right here in the blogosphere, in front of everybody:
I'm suffering from blog envy. Or perhaps, really, it's more than that. I'm suffering from lifestyle envy. Or, perhaps, it's both.
Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade my husband and children for anything. I like being me. But I am so tired of living in a typical suburban house on a typical suburban lot with oh-so-typical suburban neighbors. I'm tired of driving to the grocery store and buying lettuce in a bag and grainy orange tomatoes and having to pay a tremendous premium for my chicken that is free-range and hormone-free.
I'm tired of spending so much time and energy worrying about the grass being weed-free and the lawn edged. I'm tired of having to get in my car all of the time to go anywhere.
I read the blogs (starting here) of those with homes in the country and chickens, goats, cows and a pantry full of home-grown, home-canned good things and I long to have that. I wish that I could sew and knit and do all those homey domestic things.
Maybe this is just one of my frequent "bugs" that I get. Maybe I'll wake up next week and be glad I don't have to touch the dirt with my freshly-manicured nails. But today I really want a small farm.