I took 2.5-Year Old Daughter to a local working farm. It’s owned by the county and is run as a “period piece” from the 1890s. The volunteers all wear clothing from that era and use vintage farm tools to work the land. No electricity! Or iPods! It’s meant to be educational but all I could think of was how horrible life must have been in the 1890s. What a cynic. God bless the 21st Century.
We (ho-hum) saw some sheep…
We walked up to the horse barn and saw a cute little kitty cat sitting outside. I reached down and gave him a little scratch under his chin. He got that eyes-half-closed look of ecstasy that cats get when they’re being scratched and leaned into my hand for more.
Then he sneezed and sprayed blood all over the back of my hand. Here’s a pic of the hay with some blood splashed on it.
I almost wretched. Proof positive that the city is the place for me.