Obligations and Farmers

A person called Sunday and set an appointment to come to my farm at 9:30 Tuesday. Tuesday morning comes and another person who should know better calls before 9:00 am - my husband works nights so he really needs his sleep and any calls before 9:00 am really roust up our home. I may be up, but the ringing phone - well, let's just say it isn't much fun. The same person called again after I had trotted back into bed in less than 5 minutes - ok, that's it, let's get up. Oh, we have enough time to go eat I think. Hurry.

Then upon discovering it is not enough time, I berate myself for my lack of judgement, my own idiocy, my inconsideration for myself and tell my husband to go, that I must wait on this appointment despite my total disappointment at not having breakfast out with my husband. I cannot find a phone number even using the net. I am stuck, this is my fault.

He leaves to eat by himself feeling guilty and I eat cheese and crackers at the computer. About 9:15 I got a phone call from the person with the appointment - she's getting new stuff for her home - someone is installing it for her cheaply and she's at Lowe's. Another time she says. She has no idea how badly I treated myself in an effort to be home to help her with plants and plant material. I was going to let her take cuttings on my plants of material she could use. For free. I honestly told my husband I would not be making any money off this person because I was willing to help. I treated myself badly to help another who in turn failed to keep the appointment she set.

Does she know any of this - no because I am either too considerate to say this on the phone or too afraid of hurting her feelings but I am very cold in our conversation because I wanted to explode. The phone caller doesn't know either.

But my feelings/life has been slightly disturbed by a general forgetfulness of moral obligation to either keep their word or consider hours husbands work.

Farming is a lifestyle, works best with no interruptions, distractions and other assorted problems. It is now almost 10 am, my day feels shot, my head is beginning to hurt and I hate feeling upset over something that might seem so trivial to others. It is trivial, truly it is. But my time is precious - if you plan to visit a farm to pick, be on time. If you make appointments, keep them. I love being helpful, useful, kind. But damn, I hate feeling used.