Farm-sitting
A s I sit typing pecking (I'll explain later), I can hear countless birds singing, wind rustling the canopy of leaves above, the occasional meow or moo and not much more. Not a single car horn, siren, whistle, screech or man-made noise. Some might consider this silence. I'm sitting just beyond the top of those steps, in the yard of an isolated farm in the rolling hills of Mount Horeb. It is HOT! My beer is sweating almost as much as I am. (Sad but true.) The cookie in my hand reads "dunk head first", and that's what I'd love to do right now. Dunk myself, head first, mind you, in a crystal blue, spring-fed pool. Not having such a pool near by, I'll have to settle for a late night, ice cold shower under the sprinkler while I water my own garden. Despite the heat and humidty, I am in paradise. This weekend I have had the pleasure of farm sitting for my friends John & Kattia. Besides feeding, watering and keeping after their three potbell...