There's no crying in the country

So last week I told you that I was going to the country to meet my boyfriend ED's parents and see the farm he grew up on. I asked for your opinions as to what to wear and you did not disappoint! Your advise was spot on! I know this because I didn't listen and wish I would have. Ah well! I always did have to learn my lessons the hard way.

Designer boots or no designer boots? That was my original question. You convinced me not to take them and I decided to bring my hiking boots instead. Well, I decided to, but I actually forgot to put them in my bag so I showed up bringing only the lightweight tennis shoes I had on. Doh! Strike one for the city girl!

Let's see, what other advise didn't I listen to? Oh, the whole get up early part. I half way listened. I got up about on time, jumped through the shower, did my hair and put on some light makeup. Little did I know that the day they had in store for me was one of manual labor. Luckily ED's mother, let's call her Mama ED, was kind enough to tell me to leave my fancy purse in the room (so I don't get mud on it) and handed me a pair of leather work gloves and some sunscreen.

First chore - dig a ditch with a tractor.
Second chore - get tractor unstuck from the mud.
Third chore - dig ditch by hand.














Mostly I was on supervision duty along with stacking random pieces of wood from dead trees in the burn pile (score one for me not having appropriate shoes!). Luckily I had the guidance of ED's 5 year old nephew to show me the ropes.

Fourth chore - set the field on fire.














After watching the field burn and pretending not to have anxiety about fire containment and whether or not the reported the fires to the proper fire burning officials, we stopped for lunch.

Although I was ready for a nap, I sucked it up and found a way to redeem myself by 1) learning to drive a tractor and 2) hauling tree branches that ED and his brother were chainsawing, onto the trailer bed and then onto another burn pile.


This post is getting quite long and there is probably no need to tell you EVERY detail so I'll try and wrap things up.

Day two - the wind was incredibly strong so they decided that the days chores would be to cut down a tree that had fallen in front of their grandfathers farm "just across the way". That's right, because wind and sawdust go perfectly together. However, lifting heavy tree stumps was totally worth seeing the way ED can swing an axe. I literally had to tell myself to stop eye-raping him before someone noticed.












Joking and eye-raping aside, I had a great time. ED's family is amazing. I finally understand where he gets his incredible work ethic. I am sore, bruised and exhausted. I got to see so much. Like regular horses, baby horses, all sorts of bunny rabbits (I even held one, but not the one with the red eyes because it looked evil...like it would chew your head off if you gave it the chance), chickens with feather shoes on and a crap load of farm cats and dogs. When I asked ED what the bunnies names and the chickens names were he told me that "not all farm animals get names." I told him that on my farm, ALL animals would be named - even the chickens. Granted their names would probably be Shut-the-hell-up-noisy-ass-bird 1, 2, 3, etc.

Farm life is great but I'm glad to be home.

The end.


Blogfully yours,

Summer

P.S. Do I label this post as a vacation? That just seems not-quite right.