This time this is actually my fault. This is exactly where I pulled a piece of insulation out to put in the bathroom exhaust fan. It is also exactly where I have yet to replace the insulation. I need another set of hands to avoid donning an itchy, pink fiberglass cocoon. The Husband is on his way here and this is on the top of the list.
Yesterday, on my way in from the barn. I stopped and just stood there for a few minutes. It was so quiet. At first, I heard nothing. No wind, no animals, no people. Nothing. I could hear and feel the quiet never ending expanse of space spiraling out away from me for what seemed to be infinity. I could hear myself breathe. I could actually breathe deeply and expand my rib cage as far as my lungs wanted to push because there was all this space. There have been a few comments regarding how isolated we are. This completely befuddles me. I have neighbors right at the road. I can't see them but they are there. The comments have been made so often now The Husband asks me, "You don't feel too isolated, do you?" Um, I'm a weird, creative person that society has no use for now that I'm a woman past my second decade and I don't earn a paycheck outside the home in an occupation deemed worthy by said society. I'm invisible. I've been invisible all my life with the exception of when I had an 1100 pound horse by my side in the show ring and men stared at me when I was in my 20's/early 30's. Even then no one saw me. I get the comment all the time, "Sorry, I didn't see you there." It's like my Romulan cloaking device is always stuck on. Right now, I prefer this isolation. This quiet space. I need this quiet space. I don't clear the driveway unless I need groceries more than I need quiet space. And then, when I'm in town, I can't get out fast enough. There are contractors everywhere. You couldn't swing a 2x4 and not hit about half a dozen of them. Hey, a girl can fantasize. So, for now I welcome what others consider isolation. Besides, I much prefer the more exceptional company of our feLIONs.