Beets, cilantro, lavender, stilettos, skinny jeans, scotch and the massive ear lobe holes that kids are starting to sport, you either like them or you don’t. I think a lot of people respond to country life in the same way. It’s either the best thing in the world or you wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.
Yesterday, the lady I’m working with came out to the farm for the first time. I’m going to call her Sprint from now on, because she’s a runner and she’s quick to get things done. I really admire her. I’ve told you before that we are very different. She went to college on a golf scholarship, she likes to run, she’s very much a business person, she loves politics and did I mention she likes to golf? Where as I went to college in a 1987 black Ford Thunderbird and came this close to being on academic probation my first semester. God bless my parents for not yanking my butt back home. I studied art and design, I love flowers and animals, I’ve only voted in two presidential elections, I care very little about sports and I don’t have a clue about golf. Sometimes Sprint and I look at each other and smile because our worlds are so very different and I think we enjoy that about each other.
Sprint and I had a meeting to go to in another town and I told her to bring her two boys out to play with my kids and my older children could hold the fort while we were gone. When Sprint came through the door she exclaimed disbelief in how modern my kitchen was, “You have a dishwasher? A lot of these old houses don’t have dishwashers.” Then on the way to our meeting she asked me a lot of questions about the pigs and how we process the meat. Then while we were waiting in the lobby of the office where we were to have our meeting she asked me, “Do you have a dryer? Do you hang all your clothes on the line like that?” The poor girl, I could tell she was trying to figure out how I can live like I do. I told her I try to hang everything on the line except towels. She shook her head with a grin on her face, eyes bright with wonder.
When we pulled back into my drive Sprint looked at a hen scratching by the back patio and said,”What is that?” Well, Sprint, that’s a chicken. “But, what’s it doing out?” They free range. “Don’t you need fencing? Or something?” No, no, come on I’ll give you a tour of the farm.
I headed out toward the garden where seven or so of my chickens and the big rooster were scratching and I looked back at Sprint. Hesitantly she was taking small steps with a worried look on her face. Are you scared? “Yes, a little bit” was her reply. Oh, these chickens won’t hurt you. Look, that’s one of our Polish Crested and that’s our rooster his name is Charlie, hold on let me get those hens out of my beans. Sprint stood frozen in the garden. I coaxed her back to the pig pen, she wanted to know what was back there before she went any further. I pointed to the pigs with her standing just close enough to get a glimpse of the pigs, “I’m not really dressed for this. I can smell them.” I made large arm gestures toward the orchard and the beehives. She had no interest in going in the barn for fear of what might be in there or stepping in something. I have to admit I have those same fears nearly every day. The last thing she asked me was, “Do they always make that noise? Does it wake you up?” referring to our rooster’s crowing. I laughed and told her I don’t even notice it.
I don’t think Sprint will ever embrace the country life or understand my love for it. She is not my only friend that has come out to Coal Creek Farm and been eager to leave. It’s not always pretty, it doesn’t always smell good, it’s a lot of work and I love everything about it….except the poop, I could live without the poop.
And I have to tell you if Sprint ever takes me golfing I think the experience will be about the same with me asking a lot of questions and wondering why people do this and how much longer do I have to be on this course hitting a ball? But, there won’t be any pig or chicken poop, that’s for sure.
Need a Chicken Doctor?
Contact 
I get these mystified reactions all.the.time, though mostly they’re long distance–friends back in L.A. (where we lived until two years ago) who are baffled by what I could possibly be doing with myself all day, and do I really shovel sh*t? Really? Usually, my friends’ lack of understanding just makes me laugh, because I love my life here on our crazy farm so much. Every once in a while though, I encounter outright disdain, in the form of, “Gee, if you live like THAT [meaning, you know, all farmy] we must have absolutely NOTHING to say to one another.” This happened recently at a birthday party I went to, in another small town nearby, at a weekend home of an old friend. All HIS friends were New York City-folks, and as soon as they found I actually live in this bucolic slice of heaven all the time, they could not turn away from our conversations fast enough. Luckily, I was able to laugh, instead of getting hurt feelings at their obvious belief that their difference made them just a bit better than country old me. But it’s just, of course, difference, not a question of better or worse, just as you and I, who both live rurally and with a bunch of chickens, are quite different from one another. One thing I love about living here is the appreciation I’ve gained for people who, on the surface, are radically different than me (different religious or political beliefs, say) but with whom I have strong common values. It’s been a great lesson.
I never feel like I’m dressed right. The strap on my “good” bag broke on the way to the wedding! Nothing to do but stick some safety pins in and hope that they held.
They didn’t.
Nothing like the MOB walking down the aisle with a broken handbag. Classy.
So I would be a bit intimidated by Sprint, and I think that you show admirable detachment! She probably needs a friend who steps in poop every day, just like we probably need friends who golf and look like they golf…every day
God bless!!
How funny.
How many pigs/hogs do you have? I thought a prior photo just showed two.
God Bless,
June in KS
June,
We had two last year, this year we have four.
I’ve always wanted to live in the country. A farm would be good, too. I think your place sounds dreamy!
Ah country life! Gotta love it. And April, if you have the right temperament, golf is actually quite fun. I’ve found the only way I can truly enjoy it is if I don’t keep score and have a Jack & Coke before we start. I’m just too competitive otherwise. But with a group of girlfriends who are out to have a grand old time? A ton of fun and great stress relief. Swing the club and whack the crap out of the ball.
Do the chickens have large talons? LOL!
Beets – check. Cilantro – getting there. Lavender – check. Stilettos – Aw, hail no! Do you want me to break my neck? Scotch – I prefer cheap bourbon whiskey, thankyouverymuch. Danny likes the scotch. Those massive earlobe holes really freak me out when taken out of the context of National Geographic or some remote village in the Andes.
When I was about 12, I was helping watch a family friend’s little girl at their house. Their townhouse was backed up to a golf course and it looked like their backyard just went on forever. I took the little girl for a walk in their huge backyard. We kept finding golfballs! Wow. I couldn’t figure that out, but it was cool. And the beautiful green “lawn” looked just like I imagined Scotland looked. We were on a treasure hunt for golf balls in Scotland! Then some very angry golfers approached us in their golf cart and asked us just what in the Sam Hill we were doing. I’ve been afraid of anything having to do with golf ever since. That Tiger Woods looks like a nice young man, though.
What is it about piggy faces that are so cute? I want to scratch that dirty fuzzy face!
I’ve moved back to town now, but sure miss country life. A big hawk flew over as I walked to work and I was nearly late for watching to see what he was up to. On the other hand, I DON’T miss mice in the house, snakes in the walls (where there are mice, snakes will follow) and yard and trees, ticks, air conditioning in only one room and heat in only two rooms, and living with someone who things clean is an optional state. If only I could move my nice neat house (mouse-free and with temperature control) to the country!
Poor girl. I hate when I feel out of sorts somewhere. I’m not sure I could live your life, although there are days when I want to run away to country living.
Charity
http://www.charitymoon.blogspot.com
I’m in the LOVE IT category. I’d love to pick up and move to a place where my next-door neighbor doesn’t park their car 7 feet from the head of my bed and then set off their car alarm all hours of the day and night. “Green Acres is the place to be…”
Isn’t it funny that what is completely normal to some of us, is alien to others?
Of course, if you did go play golf with her, you probably wouldn’t be dressed right.
April, it takes all sorts. I grew up on a farm in a different country. I shovelled the ***, helped cows calve, trached an animal with a penknife and a plastic Biro tube etc. I also worked in NYC, selling IT solutions to Private Banking clients on Wall Street, complete with power suit and so-high heels. Now I live in suburbia and am a working mom who minivans the troops to swim meets. In between all of those lives I had many other fun experiences. Life is good and all experiences should be embraced. You gotta get a kick out of it. Sprint is struggling to understand it. She will !
We live out in the boondocks and have a garden and chickens. We also go to a very wealthy church about 40 minutes away (love it), but the people thre can even imagine our life. I can’t imagine living theirs though so it all works out. I LOVE living out in the country, even though I don’t necessariy love all the work. But, at the end of the day it is worth it.
Does it matter that our golf course is next to a cow pasture? So every once in a while you can be on the back 9 and play next to the cows? My husband usually tries to hit a ball or two next to one. All my “city-fied” friends think I am nuts living “so far out there”. It’s like I am on Mars or something. At least I can send my kids outside and tell them to stay out of the horse pen, come in before dark, and stay out of the mud. Oh well.
I would come to your house and you wouldn’t be able to get me to leave. You would have to have a restraining order to keep me from stalking your chickens. I have the large garden and I am trying to grow flowers. I just don’t have the chickens, the land (privacy), the apple trees, etc– well not right now, but a dream for the future.
And about those feedbags. They were, seriously, all the rage at New York fashion week. Designers were making ball gowns out of feedbacks with a portion of the proceeds going to charities working in Africa. You might just have a gold mine sitting in your shed. April’s Feed Bag Dresses coming to an upscale boutique near you.
Not feedbacks, but feedbags.
If the weather permits, hanging clothes instead of using a dryer is economical and environmentally responsible. Well done!!
I grew up working on a farm and so totally LOVE it and miss it with my whole heart. Where I work now, people find my ways of thinking about putting my young children to work at a local farm as soon as possible–well–a bit odd. But, I think it’s so important for people to learn and know where food comes from and how to take care of things. Your children will benefit tremendously from watching what you do (and hopefully helping out occassionally).
But thats what makes frienships and relationships so fun..all the differences! Its fun (sometimes) to view our world thru others eyes!
i live in MI, and the golf courses have poop on ‘em, lotsa poop, goose poop!
I bet you would find goose poop on the golf course. I find the same response from friends and family.
I am finishing up graduate school and then I want to finally get a job and move out to the country. Our goal is to have critters too…. However, I don’t think my 13 year old son will embrace this new lifestyle when it happens. We went to the local fair last night and he was physcially gagging over the spell of cow poo in the cow exhibition barn. Poor kid…I sent him outside to wait for me.
I am finishing up graduate school and then I want to finally get a job and move out to the country. Our goal is to have critters too…. However, I don’t think my 13 year old son will embrace this new lifestyle when it happens. We went to the local fair last night and he was physically gagging over the smell of cow poo in the cow exhibition barn. Poor kid…I sent him outside to wait for me.
sorry I posted twice. I was trying to correct my spelling errors so you would really believe I was a grad student!!
Oh my, I can see the facial expressions and hand gestures/body language in my mind when I picture what she said…this is a good one since I know you both!
“Sprint” sounds like the kind of person I really can’t stand anymore. People have gotten so out of touch with reality and what it means to be alive. The farm is just the place where civilization got it’s start. Everything about it is real – it is life, it is sustenance, it is survival before it is wrapped in plastic and styrofoam and price-tagged for the layman’s convenience. People should get over themselves. (And by the way, I am just a city girl with sense!)
Oh, how funny. I grew up in an old victorian home in constant repair, but in the “big city”. My husband grew up in the country on a hog farm and had to round up the hogs every week when they would escape. Ther is no godly way he would agree to move to the country, which sounds so genuinely appealing to me. Maybe we can settle for a large plot of land in the outter ‘burbs and I can have a large garden. And maybe a chicken, and a goat. Or four….