Oh, what glorious clear blue skies! It is so awesome to stand on the deck with my morning coffee and listen to the sweet notes of birdsong, letting my eyes rest on the delicate green haze of the first leaves and the soft beginnings of grass. It's just so wonderful, peaceful and bucolic that I think I might invite my poor, city friends for dinner this weekend - I'm sure they would love the fresh air, quiet clucking of the hens and sweet faces of the sheep.
Oh, good gawd. I just lost my Wellie in the mud, again. Will it ever stop raining? Will I ever be able to put my winter coat away? Doesn't it figure. I've invited six for dinner this weekend and they've sprayed the field next door with liquid shite. I wonder if it's possible to eat while wearing Hazmat suits. For crying out loud, Reggie! Would you PLEASE give the hens a break, you sex maniac! Dotty! Quit attacking the Blondies! Who's bleeding?!? I HEAR you, Norman! The entire county hears you! I will bring your hay out in a minute. Just let me pick these black flies out of my coffee.
*I will be periodically entertaining you with my interpretations of the Myth and Reality of Country Living. Let the cow pies fall where they may.