I was out in the field this morning when I had one of those moments that temporarily blows your mind. You know the kind when a bunch of little acts finally adds up all at once to a wacky realization?
I had just shoveled sheep poop out of the barn and was watching the chickens and turkeys run about as I started to fence in an area for just zucchini and cucumbers that is the size of most people's full gardens. I was thinking about Bill's coworker who is visiting us (the sheep, really) this afternoon and what this might look like to her. And it blew out my brain.
To outsiders, I'll bet we look like farmers. My jeans are ripped and covered with grass and dirt. My dusty work boots covered with straw (and manure!). I think I smell like hay. No makeup. Hair doing whatever it wants. Dog, cats...old farmhouse with mud tracked into the kitchen and tools everywhere. Picnic table overflowing with tomato and pepper plants. Half the front field tilled up.
I feel like we aren't playing anymore. That this is totally now a thing that we're doing and my brain just realized it.
WTF! I'm a farmer. Who does that??? Crazy.
A full accounting of sheep will come soon, but in the meantime here's a photo of Bill and Clara.
Say "awww."
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Holy sheep poop, Batman! There is officially a farmer in the farmhouse.
ReplyDeleteI mean... why wouldn't you name the sheep Clara....
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