My in-laws own a farm outside of New York and it has become my husband's favorite retreat from the city. It's quite lovely and very quiet; however, I have concluded that farm living is not the life for me. While I'm not quite the fish out of water that Eva Gabor was at Green Acres, I definitely don't thrive in this environment. Last Christmas, we found a badly injured deer on the property and I stood six feet away from it as my brother-in-law ripped a bullet into his head -- Bambi and my Christmas- joy died simultaneously. This year, I went out to see the chickens that we'd been raising for the past two years, only to learn that they had all been killed due to some absurd farm rule that you can't keep chickens for more than two years (my father-in-law states that he HAD to kill them because they no longer make eggs -- at 32, I recognize that my egg producing time is similarly dwindling). Imagine my inner turmoil when I learned last night that my father-in-law was finally going to purchase the fainting goats I have been requesting for the past several months (do yourself a favor and google them - ENDLESS amusement) -- while initially thrilled, I have to wonder how long these timid and uncoordinated creatures can survive on this farm of death! Aside from the whole "circle of life" issues I have with the farm, I also find myself in a near state of panic due to the lack of cellular and wireless service.
While the clothes are not "farm attire," I will be sporting my Ralph Lauren overalls in the next post -- get excited!
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