Day in the Life of an Emerging Prairie Woman

For the first time ever I was asked, "Do you work outside the home?" Having never planned to be a house-worker and finding this only as a default setting-- I wasn't sure how to answer such a question. I wanted to answer, "Not on purpose," but thought it impertinent.  But it brought on a question about how to best notice the beauty in my in-between time. Gentle readers, here is what my between work-working looks like in our new North Dakota home, I present a day in the life of an emerging prairie woman.

Here's where the day begins.  I have been waking up with Darling Husband as he gets ready for his day.  There is some talking, but there is mostly coffee and gentle tip-tapping.  He for emails, me (guilty) cruising the pins on Pinterest.  We conspire about our days ahead: we set goals, we make plans, we slowly work to make this new place feel like home.

For this day it is laundry.  Which is a bit of a trick since our laundry room is not yet assembled.  It means a walk down the street to the laundromat where I read National Geographic as the clothes spin in avocado green machines.  I put the prairie summer sunshine to work with me as I hang the clothes on the line.  When I step back to look at our work, I think the hanging clothes look very much like prayer flags.  I begin to bless, thank, and pray as I pin each one.  "Thank you sunshine for your help.  Thank you kind prairie winds." "Bless this shirt to shield my shoulders."  "Thank you for this dress, and the chance to bless wedding love when I wore it last."  "Thank you for the grace of clean clothes ready to begin again."
 
For this day it is also new skills.  Every prairie woman must know how to can the goodness and bounty of their garden, and so I am determined to learn.  I use my sister's recipe, shared through my mother, as explained to me by Darling Husband; for Dilly Beans. These are delectable: crisp and crunchy, both slightly sweet and spicy. Since we moved just this summer, we do not yet have a garden to produce such goodness.  Luckily our neighbors have some to share.  They are anxious to welcome in the form of vegetables, still warm from the sun.  I dance round the kitchen as the beans pickle and seal in their new homes, and I dance with gratitude for free gifts graciously given.  I think of ways to share the pickled bounty forward still-- I envision potlucks or dinner parties, good conversations or giving jars back to those who first gave us the beans.  In simple things, I have been graced and blessed. 

A day full of simple things, really.  Simple and beautiful things.  Gracious and free things ready to give and give again.  Thanks be for the summer to work, the prairie sun to join, and the Creator who makes it shine.