When we arrived Sunday afternoon, my girls went nuts. Who needs a park when you have a farm? We weren't able to call them inside until bedtime. For the first time in well over a year, our first bedtime and grandma and grampa's house was easy.
Yesterday, my almost-3-year-old discovered the joys of climbing on hay bales and realized she was small enough to climb through the gates to the barn. She was overjoyed to be able to share in all of the fun her sister had already sampled the day before.
In the afternoon my 6-year-old learned how to sew. Her grandmother is teaching her 9-patch, and she's already meticulously completed two blocks. My father says it must be genetic. My mother is thrilled to have finally found someone in the family with whom to share quilting.
This morning I slogged around in six-inch deep mud and drizzle while doing the morning chores for my parents. I spent a lot of time examining the derriere of a certain cow for reasons I hope to be able to share later. Then I spent a bit of time herding cows, rearranging gates and playing hide-and-seek with a heifer who had escaped her pasture last night. I wasn't raised on a farm for nothing, after all, and that's one less thing my dad has to do tonight.
Life on the farm is very good, and I have some excellent photos to share when I get home!