From Sushi to Steak.

I was sitting in my closet last night, purging all belongings that I have not touched in over a year, and it suddenly hit me–I am moving to the farm.  How did I get here?  Is this really my life?  Or is it all a bad manure dream?   It is funny to reflect back on where I started to where I am going, or so I think.  I can remember growing up and promising to myself that I was going to live and work in the city, like NYC.  I was never going to live in the country–and then I met a boy.  That is usually how it goes, right?  I can remember the first time that Jer took me to meet his family.  I had sworn I had fallen off the end of the earth into the twilight zone, which was filled with the most bizarre animals, and like 4 humans–in overalls.  I arrived at the Chateau d’ Boonies on a Friday and told myself all I had to do was make it to Sunday evening.  Well I made it (obviously), but not without event.  I was peering out the window one misty morning at some kind of bizarre looking animal, which I assumed to be some form of a cow.  Wanting to make polite conversation with my future in-laws, I asked them “What type of cow is out my window?”.  They looked at me, smirked, and then told me…”That is a LLAMA.  Cow’s don’t have long necks.”  Oops, my bad.  To which I replied, “reeeeeally”.  So while I basked in the horror of my city ways, they got a chuckle out of my farm virginity.   All I can say, is that my husband must have really liked me.  Since that first trip, over 10 years ago, I have somehow become an expert on bizarre farm animals.  I no longer go to the newest, trendy restaurant on the weekend, I will be checking on my goats and–heaven help me–who knows what else.  The odd thing?  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I think it is interesting to sit back and watch life unfold.  I have found that what I say I will never do, I will always do, and the things I thought I would do, well…. those have a 50/50 chance of making the final cut….