This past Easter weekend, my friends were spending the holiday with family at the beach, so I got to happily house sit for them and their miniature zoo. They have this amazing old farmhouse outside “the big city” (you are supposed to read that with a heavy twang, the same way you would say “down yonder”) with lots of land, and animals, and trees, and sunshine, and wine, and hammocks, a chandelier in a tree, and long paths between farm fields to wander. OH! And a friendly baby deer. Everything a girl needs to pretend she’s on a mini vacation. A working mini vacation I guess. I still have hay embedded under my fingernails, and chicken poop on the bottom of my shoe.
As it was also Easter, we took advantage and used the gorgeous setting for Easter egg painting and the consequent searching for them the next day.
I want to go back there again. I wonder how often I can possibly talk them into leaving town. Three times a month is not too much to ask, is it?