Another mid-life crisis clue.

I'm a town girl. Always have been and thought that I always would be. When I was a child my sister was always begging our parents to move out in the country. Jut the thought made me start crying hysterically and begging for mercy! Yes, I was the original drama queen. Well not the original-I believe that was Eve. Can't you just see her in the garden talking to God. "But that ugly ole snake just kept on after me {sniff, sniff.} I tried to say no and he's just so pushy {throw hand up to forehead.} Besides I'm just not myself today and you know I have a sweet tooth and there is no such thing as chocolate yet {swoon.} So anyway the thought of living in the country has never appealed to me. Nine years ago we built our dream house. We being my sweet little ole husband of 30 years who by the way is slightly worried {I only say slightly because my husband doesn't worry about anything} about my recent erratic behavior. Guess where he wanted to build it. Yep out in the country on 5 acres. My first thought was we have a quarter of an acre in town and you can't stand the upkeep of the yard here so what are we going to do with 5 acres! My sweet little ole husband said, "Oh that will be different when we are in the country." Now this is where I made a tactical error. I assumed that since my husband grew up on 136 acres in the country and had wonderful memories of going to his grandparents weekend farmhouse for family gatherings that this meant that the mere thought of living and breathing country air would make him nostalgic for bush hogging and "taking care of the land." What I didn't know was that he meant "when you live in the country your in the country so you can just let the land go to pot." Not literally mind you-been there done that! We had a rent house in Shreveport, LA 25 years ago. I single mother and 2 teenage sons were renting it. I should say destroying it for free as they hardly ever paid their rent. My husband felt sorry for her. He kept thinking about me and the 3 kids alone and needing help. He even bought a lawn mower for her 2 teenage boys so that they could mow lawns in the summer and help their mother out financially. But they preferred to knock holes in the walls and spray paint devil worshipping symbols on our back patio. Well she calls one day and asks if she can grow some little ole herbs in the backyard to sell at the weekend farm markets. We said sure you go right ahead darlin. To make a long story short when they finally moved out we had a backyard full of over my head marijuana plants. You should have seen the frenzy of my staunchest Republican in the south and and my southern belle self out there frantically trying to get rid of the largest pot farm in LA history. Well I digress. Anyway my idea of 5 acres in the country was something like the grounds at Martha Stewart's place and his was a wildlife preserve in northern Virginia. Neighbors don't take to well to a wild and I do mean wild life preserve in Virginia. I've always wanted to be a Martha Stewart that usually turns out to be a Lucy Ricardo! Anyway, after 9 years in the country lately I've been like loving this stuff. I walk my land like a pioneer women. I'm whipping this acreage into shape. I'm thinking about some cute little ole chickens in some Junior League style coops named Hilda, Helga, Honoria, Hedy and Hortense. Now I know I've flipped. Once again unusual behavior for me. I know this must be a mid-life crisis because why else would I have a complete personality change! The mere mention of a farm animal use to get a big "EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW!" from me. I am even considering keeping bees! My family still hasn't gotten off the floor laughing at that one. I have the desire to live dangerously! Since I'm a Christian, Republican, totally uptight southern belle I have few outlets that are acceptable. I'm allergic to bees. My husband has thought of me trotting down to the beehives with my epi pen in hand. I've never been one for living dangerously. The most I've ever bucked the system is fixing Taco Soup too many times because it was so easy when my husband had said "Enough with the Taco Soup already!" My husband didn't actually say that. He would have said, Honey, do you think maybe you could find another recipe for soup. I'm getting a little worn out on that recipe and your such a wonderful cook." So here I am feeling like the biggest boob there ever was with a wonderful husband and grown children and 3 precious grand-children because I am going through a mid-life crisis and want a little daring over the edge excitement in my life. I think that I'll go make some Taco Soup.