"Toil and Trouble"

I have discovered during all my years of being a preacher's wife, that one of the most difficult people to get along with is the pastor.  Yes, my dear husband, the pastor.  At this very moment I could rip his head off.  Since he is married to the "church", not the "Church", but the local organization, very little time is reserved by him to spend with me.  I toiled endlessly in the garden yesterday; which is my therapy for filling endless hours of his absence from my life.  So, bright and early this morning he gets up and proceeds to the garden to re pick the beans I slaved over yesterday.  This is his therapy for the guilt he feels for being married to the "church".  After I had washed his dirty drawers, cleaned the kitchen, made the bed, and got our dear granddaughter off to the university (she is the flower in the garden of crab grass) I joined him outside to see how his labor was progressing.  He had picked about a quart of beans, (I could have told him, but he won't listen) that he was wasting precious time he could have been spending with me.  He proceeds to get on the four-wheeler to go pick the blackberries that should have been picked last week, while he was being married to the "church".  Well, the berries were long gone because the rain we were blessed with last week, "Praise God", had long washed them off the bushes to rest on the ground now food for the precious little birds instead of his precious family.  He did, however, bring the berries in and wash them.  There was just enough to fill the one-half cup glass Pyrex dish.  Wow, what in the world should I do with all these berries.  I guess I could tie him to a chair and force feed them to him.  I put on my garden clogs and went to the garden.  Oh, he had watered the squash for me.  What is this on the end of my garden hose?  How many times have I told him not to spray the vegetables with the blunt force of the water hose?  I know I have told him at least four times to use the "gentle rain" attachment.  What is wrong with him?  It made me so mad.  I know he must have drowned the poor little bees working so hard to pollinate my precious plants for me.  And the blooms are drooping worse than my behind is.  What in the world was he thinking?  I said to him "I have asked you over and over not to do this; had you rather take a shower under the shower- head or have someone turn a fire hose on you."  Well, he didn't appreciate my input at all!  "Well", he said, "I just won't water anything anymore." I knew that's what he was going to say.  He is a typical man, trying to turn the facts so that I was the one who was guilty.  How in the world have I tolerated this for so many years.  He proceeded to tell me about all women and how they make such a big deal out of things, changing words, blowing things out of proportion, and not appreciating what men do.  I quickly told him he was acting like his fine church members and the next time he wanted me to do computer work for him he could get one of his fine church members to do it.  Not only that, I told him he could wash his own dirty drawers, iron his own clothes, make his own bed and cook his own food.  As always after a fight he sweetly says, "All I'm going to say is I love you and I'll be back after a while".  And I, a little less than politely replied, "Don't be in any hurry".