Barn Living

I used to live 

in a nice house in the suburbs.

It was clean and organized,

the rooms were decorated,

and you could actually see

the floors.

(Hardwood throughout)

I used to have friends over 

every weekend for happy hours 

by the fire.

.

But lately I feel

like I live more 

in a barn than my own home.

Two actually.

One's an old dairy barn in Buckeystown

and the other's a former horse stable in 

Gambrills.  

The line has been blurred

between my real home and 

my barns away from home.

My once decorated rooms

hold Barn Show and Kramer Angle

merchandise 

waiting to be tagged,

painted, wired 

or transformed.

My house has price

tags all over it!

It's like everything is for sale.

Like the pair of vintage

shipping crates I found at 

the auction that are now 

my family room end tables.

(Currently tagged at $298 each)

The cubby I bought to sell

that houses 

my growing wine collection, which 

I don't have time to drink

with my friends.

($249)

All tagged. 

Waiting to sell or waiting to enjoy.

The line has been blurred. 
  

I've been spending too much time

consumed with my business 

and not enough time 

consumed with my life. 

Maybe it's the change of seasons,

or my recent awareness of life's fragility,

but it's time I find some balance.

I want my house back and

I could really go for a great

bottle of wine.