One of my best friends from high school came to visit. They made the long road trip down from Alberta to visit family and friends for two weeks. We were sitting on the back patio enjoying a glass of red wine talking about the farm.
She said her husband would love to live on a hobby farm, but it wasn’t her idea of fun. Too much work and time. Too much trouble. I tried to explain the labour of love that goes into making a hobby farm a hobby home. Since Jenn and I have over two decades of friendship I knew she wasn’t putting down the choice of having a farm. I knew she had an interest in how the whole thing works and why I love it so much.
Mostly…. it makes me laugh or generally brightens up my soul.
In a nutshell: I think the farm is funny.
Watching Mr & Mrs Smith dive through the water is amazing. Trying to stop Willow from head-butting children is frustrating, but she dances and thinks it’s a great game, so how can I not laugh?
Taz and Gizmo playing big bear on the bed makes me laugh out loud. They snarl and giggle and Taz log rolls and trying to trip Gizmo with her body. Playing a good game of fetch with Poco is delightful.
The pigs: it’s their noises that make me laugh. Snorts and squeals as they happily smash into things.
As the sunsets and the dusk to dawn light comes on the bunnies burst to life hopping and playing on the front lawn. Often they are a fast moving shadow or a silhouette against the fading light. Mystical creatures dance across the driveway invading the cars, tractor and pump house. If you only had the company of rabbits to watch it would be more than enough entertainment.
Watching Athos, our feral ragdoll cat, stock around the barn trying to shrink his bulk and become invisible makes me grateful knowing I’ve made his life better.
Seeing a chicken and a cat curl up in the nesting box during a cold winter night or watching Willow’s head roll around on Charlotte’s back as they nap, curled together, in the afternoon sunshine.
Sitting in my living room with the Simpson’s playing on the ancient projection TV while a gentle breeze floats in from the window, surrounded by puppies who are snoring gently after a busy day at the beach and I can feel my muscles relax.
The sun softly sets over the barn and I reminisce about the chinese dinner I just shared with my dad who was talking about all the changes and all the work we’d done to the barn. Pride, but only a little.
It feels like the whole world breathed a deep sigh.
So, it’s worth cleaning up all kinds of poop, re-siding outbuildings, putting a steel roof on the barn, the cuts and bruises, getting up early to feed and staying up all night with a sick animal.
Nutshell: I love living on the funny farm.