I hope it’s fun growing up on a farm.

Both my wife and I wished we had…  Instead we grew up reading Laura Ingalls, Sterling North, Period novels, Small Farmers Journal and the like.  I think really that’s why we are here.  For our kids, or at least, to live vicariously through them.  And to be closer to the food we grow, and for our kids to understand the connection with what is on our plate.  And because baby chicks and ducks, goat kids and piglets are so cute.  And the adult versions are so entertaining.

I like to hope our children have a more well rounded grasp of some of the biological systems than we did at their age.  An appreciation for their food, and for the hard work that goes into anything of value.  I know they get outside more than they would in the city, with the buffer of space around us, it seems like they can disappear into the grass and weeds all day, finding the hidden nest of the chicken that seems to never be in the chicken yard, caterpillars, snakes, and more bugs than you could shake a stick at.  Evening foot washing is as standard as brushing teeth.  And some of the toys they get to play in are nothing you’d find anywhere but on the farm….

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The littlest farmer playing in between the end stacked round bales.

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The Snake Wrangler.  She loves finding these guys, just like I remember doing when I was her age.  There are

way more of them around our place than where I grew up though.  Jealous.

~///~

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