Life is Work?

This Spring/Summer my family and I worked on a landscaping project called "We're not at regular work, so we must be in the yard." So far, we've been blessed with nice weather, meaning not 90+ degree, insane-humidity weather. My mother and my brother work very well together, handing each other things. Just a well oiled machine. When it comes to the cooking (the really tasty kind) and most of the yard work, I get bumped out of the equation. I'm the gofer. Go-fer this, and that.Today I realized that pride got in the way of me doing as good a job as I could have. For the first part of the day, I moped. I hovered. I was basically useless. Then, I realized when I returned from a quest for sunblock in the house, what menial tasks I was handed were done. They didn't need me out there. Those tasks needed to be done..and I was being an idiot.

So, poof. Your worth is lessened when your pride is heavier than your head. My ego was crushed. They really didn't need me. I needed that. A big Gibbs slap to the back of the head (I love NCIS. )("Ok, you messed up. Get over it!"). Life really is work when you realize you're not as good a person as you want to be. Seeing clearly instead of through rose colored glasses (or a mirror in my case) Getting the right consistency, like cornbread batter. It has to be just so. So, I put on the big straw hat of gardening and helped. I mixed concrete. I moved rocks. My mother and brother worked hard into the night while I went to work-work. Kudos to them. And I'm glad they ignored my cranky (albeit temporary) hovering. Blood really is thicker than water...and family can really be great and patient.