Green Acres

Remember that TV show forever ago called Green Acres? So do I. Zsa Zsa Gabor always dressed up in her finery wallowing around the swine. Lol. Loved it. It was funny in its day.

However, I feel like I'm living that show right now only in reverse. 14 years ago when we made a choice to move out in the country, Skip was going through his mid-life crisis, I guess. Men do that around 40 years (women 50 evidentaly). I was grateful that that was the "change" that he wanted at that point in his life in lieu of a younger, prettier, peppier girlfriend.

Now, he lives in LA at a posh little apartment where he gets to come home every night and do whatever he pleases. No one to answer to, no one to nag, no chores to do. Just a sweet little life. Once a month I saunter down and join (bother) him and a couple times a month he comes up and reckons order on the ranch.

We are making noise (well the ranch is for sale so I guess it's more than just noise) about moving. Our focus at the moment seems to be the Phoenix area - more specifically a sweet little area called Queen Creek where they have a lot of horse property. Now, however, my husband is gently suggesting that we get rid of the horses and move into a condo or a small house - say what?? Yeah, I'm having a little (lot) trouble with this concept.

I'm like "the chores!" and he's like "the stores!". What's a couple to do? My take on it is this: He has to live down in LA and work and he gets the perk of having his own bachelor pad. I'm the one that has to live full time with my miserable (lol) animals. Shouldn't I be the one to choose what kind of misery I get to live in? I think so, too.