I guess as bank holidays go, this one has been pretty naff. The Farmer isn't doing so good and has to stay in hospital longer than first planned. It could be next week before I bring him home. I'm sure the doctors and nurses are doing all they can to help him but it's so damn frustrating. The farm just feels like somewhere I live right now; when he's here, it's my home. Every waking moment is spent working in some form or another, perhaps to take my mind off the sadness. I don't seem to have time to do anything because real life is so overwhelming. I never realised I had an auto-pilot setting built in, something new I've learned this year. I've recently grown up. Yet I still take my toy rabbit to bed every night. She comforts me as I stroke her soft ears. She makes me forget, just for a moment, that I'm one of those adult people with responsibilities; and allows me to be a child again.
I'm having a day off hospital visiting today. My chores have taken me to a drive in the opposite direction to pick up sheep supplies and feed for the lambs. I noticed the dogs' food is dwindling too, something else I can't ignore. I knew these times would come, yet I wasn't sure what to expect. Perhaps that makes sense, perhaps it sounds like self-pity. Right now, I'm too busy and too wrapped up in real life to care.
I just want him home. I want to stroke my rabbit's ears and smile. Feeling negative is something I'm not used to. I just want him home.