For the last week I've been negotiating with a local dairy to work on their farm. I volunteered to work for free. They responded with a curious ambivalence. Apparently volunteering on farms isn't all that rare. I suppose, wwoofing proves this so. But they are hesitant to invest the time to train me if I'm not committed. And that makes sense. Though, they don't really understand who I am. I'm no dairy flibberty-gibbet. I'm in for a pound. Hell, yes, I'm willing to shovel manure without monetary compensation. And while its true that at my age I probably shouldn't and can't move 30 50lb grain sacks by hand, I have tons of cow talent. I start next weekend. And they have encouraged me to apply for a formal position.

I'm being forced to apply for a paying job, so I can continue doing the work I love. And it makes me feel skippy inside. I will be out of the house, needed elsewhere, working on my future. After 13 years home with children everyday, everyday, every single day, its time for me to branch out. The kids don't need me so much anymore. And I need more. Yes, I am a housewife who needs and has plans to get more.

But for these first 13, and in the next several years, my most important work and my heart is still home. Moreover, time together is all we have. If you miss putting in the time, its gone forever. You don't get it back.