Farmed

Heading to the country for a few days sounds nice in theory. Then I remember that farms and my wardrobe do not really mix all that wonderfully. My abundance of dresses and skirts are not entirely conducive to motor bike riding, paddock prancing and animal feeding. Papa Bear's hobby farm that I visited a year ago is now more resembling a legitimate 'working the land' type of scenario. He sends me emails detailing 'farm activities' such as taking the manhood of cows, shearing sheep, and something about a brain damaged alpaca.
Yes, I'm sure the floral print summer dress will team with the fleece quite nicely.
I tend to romanticise the farm notion a little too much. Keeping my visits to a minimum, and stemming from a childhood filled with Charlotte's Web and Babe, my sense of reality tends to disappear. I soon remember what's what though - but by then all I've packed are sandals and frocks.
MrIkea is tagging along for the family farm fun times - the parts of the excursion I'm dreading are what he's most excited for. Oh, the irony.
the beautiful ordinary
Megan McKean1 Comment