LIFE IN THE BACK LANE
Living in a place where time forgot, not much to do. Watching alpaca hair grow, watching them chew their cud, all is content. Slowness is perhapsa gift, one that is underappreciated now. Hard for me who suffers ADHD in middle age. No one cares if the house is clean, at least I don’t except for the occasional fits of company. I luckily hardly ever have to cook, since that is my husband’s forte. So I write, I spin, and I sometimes garden. Sounds like a wonderful plan. Occasionally I get restless.
Just coming back from a week in Florida, I now find myself so. I enjoyed the faster life, the shops, restaurants, beaches that were once a part of my past life. This farm is definitely not ground zero and we should be totally safe in case of a terrorist attack. I need to stock up on food.
Sitting on my back deck surrounded by vinca vines, impatience, pansies and dianthus, blooming and waking themselves up after a sleepy, rainy morning; I should rejoice. Peace, I love it and having the world in pace with a quiet day, it is something to be praised. But oh my, the oddity of dichotomy. Where’s the fun? Perhaps, no definitely, I’m not looking in the right place. Wait, a large dragonfly type bug just buzzed past my head. North Carolina really has magnificent bugs. Oh yes, and we mated Ivanhoe (the black herdsire) to Natasha (a true black female) last Saturday night. They had a good time.
They made the most gorgeous true black boy last year with a white scallop mark on his face. I named him Moondancer, he was born on an October full moon. You could just hear Van Morrison’s wonderful song. He’s such a cutie and a sweet boy! Ivanhoe is such a pro. A true herdsire. Time to feed the herd.
They are muddy, wet and humming now for me to get to it. I can’t wait. The feed buckets are full of water, I’m going to get mobbed by their graceful wet bodies and come back in muddier than a mud puppy! Ahhh, life in the back lane, don’t ya just love it?