Ah, Love

Yep, that's my dream guy.

Ah, love. Some love love, and then there are those who say things like, "I told you I love you the day we got married; anything after that seems redundant." Sigh. In our relationship, guess who is who? I have learned a lot in the last fifty-plus years, and probably the most important thing is love looks nothing like I thought it did when I was young. It took one handsome little bib overall-wearing farmer to show me what true love looks like.

I can remember sitting with my friends as a kid and imagining my life as an adult. I would marry a handsome, wealthy, athletic professional who wore expensive suits and bought me expensive gifts. I would live in a big fancy house in a city, and my marriage would be filled with romantic evenings, fancy meals, and daily gifts of flowers and jewelry. As a teenager, I had unrealistic expectations for boyfriends. Imagine teen boys don't behave like love-crazed romantics from the movies. Weird. As I got older, reality set in that the imaginary husband of my childhood would go the same route as my imaginary friend, Teddy. He did not exist.

As a young adult, Valentine's Day was often disappointing. Yes, there were nice meals and lovely gifts, but the big scene of being swept off your feet with some grand romantic gesture was missing. More accurately, the feeling of being head over heels in love was missing. On Valentine's Day, it always felt like whoever I was with was going through the motions of love. Hollywood, Hallmark, the flower, jewelry, and the candy industry set us up for failure. I concluded early in life that Valentine's Day was just a holiday made up by a card company to improve sales.

I was jaded by the time The Bibbed Wonder and I got together. I was 29, and he was 21. Truthfully, I viewed him as a good time, but nothing that would last, and I was okay with that. He was intelligent, fun, and witty, could carry on a clever and interesting conversation, was handsome, thoughtful, considerate, and honest, and had integrity. Spending time with him was refreshing. I thought I would enjoy it while it lasted, not get too emotionally attached, and when it was over, I would remember him as someone fun I spent time with for a short while—end of story.

Well, you can see how that turned out, dear reader. Twenty-two years later, I continue to laugh, enjoy witty and stimulating conversations, and think I am the luckiest woman in the world to be with such a good man, and just when I think I may strangle him, I find my love for him is stronger. Don't get me wrong, our relationship is not without its challenges. I mean, he is lucky enough to be married to the Mary Poppins of wives: Practically Perfect In Every Way. (I can't even write that without laughing it's so far-fetched!) But I have to put up with his mouth, his constant barrage of gas attacks, his ability to make up realistic but outlandish stories that I continue to believe, his crass sense of humor that is often at my expense, and his dream-crushing logic. I mean, why can't we buy all the houses on our road, open a school for 100 people to learn old-fashioned life skills, build a stone root cellar on the side of a hill, turn our pond into a swimming pond with a liner and sand, remodel the house, and build a new goat barn by spring? He's so uncooperative! Do you see how I live, dear reader? No, our relationship is far from perfect.

All jokes aside, he has taught me that love is not grand gestures, expensive gifts, and superficial acts. Love is feeding my geese and goats in the winter so I don't have to go out in the cold. It is picking up a Cadbury Egg with each trip to the gas station because he knows they are my favorite. It's making dinner on the nights I'm too tired to think clearly. It's making sure I feel safe and well-cared for. It's being an incredible dad and setting an excellent example for our daughter. It's talking me down when I feel overwhelmed and making me laugh when all I want to do is cry. Love is being honest, even when it hurts. It is having my back when I can't stand up for myself. Love is respectful, kind, gracious, appreciative, and considerate. It's following all my crazy dreams and making them a reality. Love is a million little things that are greater and far more impressive than one grand gesture.

So, no, my dream guy doesn't wear expensive suits and go to a big office. We don't live in a fancy house in a city. I am not dripping in diamonds and don't receive a dozen roses daily. Instead, I can say I am truly happy for the first time in my life. I feel cherished, seen, and heard. My dream guy wears bib overalls, is bald, and works alongside me at our farm in the country, making soap, milking goats, and making all my visions a reality. By the way, he does say things like, "I told you I loved you at our wedding; everything else seems redundant," or when I kiss him goodbye, he says, "Didn't we just do this twenty-two years ago? You are so needy!" there is always the ever popular and romantic, "My first wife did_________________________ (fill in the blank with something annoying), and they never found her or her teeth." Sigh, so there is that.

On this Valentine's Day Eve, stay safe, be smart, appreciate the reality of love, don't get caught up in unrealistic expectations; reality is better than anything imagined, and keep washing your hands.

Spring Planning

My inspiration, isn't it lovely? Image provided by The Chatty Gardner

It is the time of year when I am over winter, dear reader. Each and every year, I decide I have had enough of snow, ice, wintery mixes, weather warnings and alerts, freezing temperatures, unpleasant walks in the cold and snow, freezing my digits while taking care of my birds, and a general feeling of winter blahs. Sigh. Moving to Aruba is not a viable option for the next few years, so I am stuck in Western Pennsylvania. However, what is getting me through the next month or so is realizing spring is approaching.

The Bibbed Wonder and I were discussing spring events over breakfast this morning. We realized that in a month, it will be the end of March. At the end of March, new babies will arrive. Baby goat season never gets old. As an adult, the baby season is better than Christmas! It is always a surprise to see how many babies will be born, what sex they will be (we always pray for little girls), what color they will be, and what their little personalities will be like. When all goes well, it is the best time of year and truly a gift. Even if it doesn't go well, caring for babies, helping my big girls, and feeling purposeful are rewarding. When we have a little one born who is struggling, there is no better feeling than watching them grow and thrive because we took such good care of them

. Of course, we always want deliveries and babies to be easy and independent, but I do love a bottle baby.

We are also finalizing our show schedule. This year, we are getting out of our comfort zone and applying to several larger shows, some of which are out of state. At this point, there are no guarantees that we will be accepted to these shows, but we remain hopeful and plan our year accordingly if we are. Our regular live show schedule will begin in May, with our annual farm event planned for May 3rd. Hands down, our farm events are my absolute favorite. Also, we are grateful to be accepted to the Ligonier Country Market for all twenty weeks. It's hard to believe this is our ninth year at Ligonier. I love the market, my friends, and our soap family, who graciously support us every week. Although it is a grueling schedule to attend the market every Saturday during the summer months, it is enjoyable and worthwhile. I am excited about a refreshed soap display, new products, and an opportunity to make new connections. We are also looking forward to The Shaker Woods Festival in August. I have plans to improve our little building in the woods and make it more conducive to our product display needs. One bib overall wearing wonder buns is being twitchy about my ideas, but this is happening. You will have to make the trip to Columbiana, OH, in August to see my ideas come to fruition. If you can't travel to Ohio, I will keep you posted on the improvements, more than likely a few knock-down, drag-out battles with a hard-headed bib overall-wearing dream crusher, and details about the process. Please stay tuned; it should be interesting.

Along with our live show schedule is our schedule for new products. I must say, my little bib overall wearing, nay-saying, overthinker has been very agreeable to my latest product ideas. Eric's newfound flexibility impresses me. Knowing that he doesn't handle change well, welcome it, or agreeably participate can be a challenge, but he is handling this with grace and a great attitude. I am a lot; I know this about myself. Daily life with me is always a roller coaster ride. Some days, my little brain actually feels like it is on fire; I am so inspired and excited. Then, there are days when my focus is all over the board. I may be excited about a new product in the morning, switch gears, and jump into researching trees and landscaping by lunch; by dinner time, I have decided we need to overhaul the house, and I am researching building stone fences at bedtime. Seriously, this is a daily event with me. I asked Eric if he thought all my ideas and excitability were a disorder or a gift from the universe, and he diplomatically refused to answer. On Monday, I returned from my walk around the farm, 100% convinced we needed to purchase the neighbor's house and turn it into an inn for our school of country living we needed to open. I even went so far as to create a business plan in my head outlining the viability of such a venture. My darling husband took it all in stride. He told me he loved the idea, but that is a long-term goal, and I need to focus on what is happening in the studio. Meanwhile, as I stutter to get all my ideas out as quickly as they come, I see his brain exploding. I really am a lot. Once I settled down and focused, I saw reason in his response and focused on the studio. However, that idea has been written down in my good ideas notebook. Yes, I have a notebook for good ideas. See, I told you I am a lot.

We are also planning some pretty big projects around the farm. After almost a decade of locking horns, doing battle, sometimes crying, and making threats, we have agreed about our landscaping dilemma. Mulch or rocks? Neither; evergreen groundcover is the answer. I am preparing to order 1400 bare-root plants of wintercreeper. This will cover the entire proximity of the house, the rock at the end of the driveway, and small areas around the barn. Diseased and dying trees will be removed. Shrubs that have seen better days and outgrown their area will be removed. New trees that do not distort views from the window will be planted, and a purple color scheme will be implemented. It will be an ongoing process as I plan to take my time to research plants, create a design, and do each garden area section by section. However, what I have in my mind's eye makes me smile, and it is something I foresee lasting long past my lifetime. I am also looking forward to having the barn painted this year. I have finally settled on a color scheme, and if it turns out how I envision it, it will look lovely, classic, and timeless.

Along with those projects, I also plan to overhaul my chicken coop. I am quite infatuated with chickens and foresee myself having a small backyard flock for the duration of my lifetime. The current state of the chicken coop is looking a bit rough, so I plan to add a new feeding system, new nesting boxes, and new roosts, as well as add insulation, new windows, and a new paint job. Aside from replacing the windows, I look forward to completing this project independently. I believe it is all within my wheelhouse.

The projects I discussed keep me sane during this cold, grey, gloomy weather. There is indeed a lot to do and much to look forward to doing. I can't wait for the weather to break so I can get started. Until then, I will try not to make my husband's brain explode. I give him all the credit in the world for putting up with me. He says I dream enough for both of us. I am an idea factory, and he is the practical one that puts it into perspective. On this grey winter's day, stay safe, be smart, live inspired, and don't make your partner's brain explode with your creativity; spring is coming, and keep washing your hands.

Tuesday Spotlight: Panty Dropper

Click To Save On Panty Dropper

Today's spotlight is on Panty Dropper. This warm, richly scented soap began as a Valentine's Day seasonal scent and quickly proved its staying power, becoming a staple of our inventory. It contains poppy seeds for gentle exfoliation and Tussah silk and aloe vera to create a moisturizing and cleansing bar.

To date, Panty Dropper is responsible for four unplanned pregnancies. Now, remember, dear reader, these "statistics" are according to one bib overall wearing truth stretcher and master of shenanigans. He says this soap needs to come with a warning because it smells so good it makes crazy things happen. Sigh. He's a lot.

Warning or no warning, Panty Dropper does indeed smell delightful. It is warm, musky, and sexy. You have a small window of time to purchase Panty Dropper for Valentine's Day. Only on the website can you save 25% on the soap. No promo code is needed to save; the savings will be applied at checkout—all orders of $50 or more ship for free.

On this Tuesday before Valentine's Day, stay safe, be smart, enjoy the savings, give a gift that makes everyone happy, hold on to your knickers, and keep washing your hands.