turn left at the cow

When friends visit me for the first time, I tell them, “Turn left before the blackberry bush.” And then I add, “You might see some sheep when you turn onto my road!!” These are the kinds of helpful details you don’t get from Google maps.

It’s quiet here.

lonely barn

Here is my house. (This, of course, is not my house. I’m not crazy enough to post a photo of the exterior of my place because although I like you, I don’t like you enough to want you to visit me. Unless you show up with a bottle of wine, in which case I love you very much.)

It’s what I wanted. Sometimes I hear roosters crowing, horses laughing, sheep gossiping, cows crooning. The wind picks up every afternoon, always wanting to show off a bit. Other times it is eerily silent. Hearing myself think can be pretty boring and often leads to no good. On a positive note, I’m able to hear potential killers coming up to my door. The crunch of gravel and dry leaves acts as quite an effective burglar alarm.

I always like to find the silver lining in all of my worst-case scenarios!

The best thing about living in the country is the nature and the space. And I realize that saying ‘I live in the country’ is relative. I know there are countrier places, but this is the countriest place I’ve personally ever lived.

country living

Every time I come home, I feel a sense of peace. It is restorative.

This is my happy place, y’all.

For more happy places, check out this week’s WordPress photo challenge!

Oh, before you go, I have a joke for you. Why did the turkeys cross the road?

we own the road

Answer: I have no idea. These turkeys stopped in front of my car and started gobbling the heck out of it. They were either trying to mate with my vehicle or pick a fight. Maybe both. I’m sure this kind of thing happens in the city (substitute the turkeys for people), too.

country mouse

 

stranger danger!!!!

stranger danger!!!!

Somewhere in one of my past posts I called myself a country mouse who liked to rock ‘n roll once in a while. If you glance at me for about, umm…0.2 seconds, I’m pretty sure you’re not saying this to yourself: she sure as heck looks like she knows her way around a farm!!

Instead, I bet you think I can’t function without multiple cups of caffeine in the morning. You doubt I can lift a 5lb bag of gummy worms. You believe, given the option, that I would push over and use a small child as a stepping stone before placing my foot in sheep poo.

sheep sighting
I would call you Judgey McJudgerson, but I haven’t done any of those things, so who am I to say? You might be right.

I have a dream. And that dream is to have a small farm. Small being the operative word. Like maybe a few goats and a dozen chickens to start. See if I can handle it.

chicken coop

When you have a dream, you tend to overlook the reality of the situation. At least I do. Oh, but please let my dream stay beautifully misted over with romantic idealism…

sheep farm
Marry me, FarmLife!!
(Sorry, I held back as long as I could. Some day, one of my proposals will be accepted wholeheartedly.)

Reality can settle in later, like with a real marriage, right?