
Looking back, my Mom and Dad always found a way to get us out of the city for the Summer. In fact, some of my earliest memories were those going to a "bungalow colony" resort in the Catskills for school break. We'd rent a tiny, little house (my parents actually slept on a trundle bed in the kitchen in one of them) and we stayed the entire Summer until it was time to head back to school. I remember thinking that kids in my class only got to go to Paris for a week but I went to "the country" for the whole Summer. I think Mom had visions of us running under fire hydrants with the hooligans and decided getting us out of Dodge was the best way to keep us out of trouble.


Fast forward... as my love of fiber grew and knitting became a regular part of my life, I thought my love for the animals that bore their coats for those lovely skeins would grow as well. Not so much but the idea of rural farm life totally romanced me. Granted, it usually included a hunky farm boy-friend who did all the dirty stuff but I was romanced all the same.
The other day, I visited WillyG's blog and saw a photo of him laying in the grass with llamas. First thought was ... tics, bugs, crap, trampling, spitting...ick...ick...ick. Then I linked to the farm's website where the photo was taken. Take a look at it. The enchanting, Wunsapana Farm conjures up images of an idyllic life in "the country". Scroll down the homepage and take a look at their home, read what they have to say about their farm and you too will be under its spell.
Well, I'm not liquidating the 401K to buy a farm but the idea of embracing these splendid creatures before I actually "buy the farm" warms my soul. I hope it does the same for you.
4 comments:
I once helped a friend milking cows, and I lived in constant fear that he and another friend were going to prove true on their threats to push me down into the crap. Yick. But llamas poop so daintily, I've considered putting it in a jar and giving it as a Christmas present.
A map eating llama! No wonder you are suspicious of animals. Great post.
Will, feel free to take me off your Christmas list, really it's fine. ;-)
As a city girl myself I can totally understand. My mom was raised on a farm and we had to "visit" annually and spend a few weeks with the grandparents learning about farm life. YUK! I'll enable your dream of farm life with a hunky farm boy but please don't ask me to help with chores, unless it is cooking or eating....
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