Contrary to what some of my friends might believe, I am about as country as a Macy's store in So Cal. So recently when my family and I began our garden my husband decided he was going to start calling me Gaga. Random I think not. Remember the TV Show "Green Acres?" Well it is clear he does, but Eddie Albert he is not. My darling husband is through and through country. A hard working country boy.
Add our children (born in California like their mother) into the mix and what a mess. Mud and spray n' wash are common in the house. I have often considered putting up a boxing ring in the back yard and see who wins. Non the less, they are my boys. I might invest in duct tape though.
We recently moved from our home in California, back to North Carolina where my husband and I first met. We are living.... wait for it...... in the house my husband grew up in. I will leave out his age but still tell you it needs some work. But is is now our home and we will remodel it one piece of sheet rock at a time. My neighbors are a man who hates my husband (how is that possible), my mother-in-law and her husband, and Memaw and PawPaw. I am sure as I sit here now that this situation will make for more interesting blogging. My father-in-law lives about 20 minutes away. Then there is my sister-in-law and her kids. (That vent will be for another day.)
My own parents live in Southern California, along with my brother, his wife (another vent I'm sure), and their girls. My many friends and my bestie are all in California as well.
So here I am. Gaga. An hour from anything resembling a mall, driving an over sized diesel vacuum (our Dodge 3500 lifted on 35s), being the stay at home mom my boys and husband need. Problem is, I am no Suzie Homemaker.
Welcome to my Country Fairy Tale....
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