Friday, February 20, 2009

Farm Wife Blues

When I was a 7-year-old horse crazy girl, the quickest way to get me in the car when my parents were going to visit another set of boring old friends was to tell me that they had horses. Invariably, the boring old friends would have sold their horses five or ten years before that, which rendered them extra boring.

But my dad knew a couple of people with real farms - his cousin Mary in Missouri, and a church member who had moved out of the city to settle on a place he called Storybook Farm, where the wide variety of animals were named after characters from books. We visited the Missouri place only once while it was still a working farm with a milk cow, two mules, chickens, and probably cats and a dog, though I can't remember for sure. I was more impressed by the mules and cow, and that trip was the first and last time I milked a cow. I loved that place, and I still have dreams about (of all things) the house's attic.

It's probably no surprise, then, that I grew up dreaming that I would have a farm of my own someday. And the only way my feeble mind could imagine accomplishing this was to marry a farmer. If I married a farmer, I could have ALL the animals I wanted!

Wrong.

I think my husband hates animals. It's possible he does, since he's made it pretty clear that any animals I've had since we've been married were/are incredible, expensive nuisances. He may have privately rejoiced when two of my horses died in December. Just last night I finally figured out that he has been secretly live-trapping my cats, as part of a kitty relocation program.

My dream of having all the animals I ever wanted is now dead. Rest in Peace, dream.

Could it be Karma that the last thing caught in the live trap was a skunk?

11 comments:

Marchelle said...

He need not be so practical. A girl needs a good, solid hay burner in her life. ;)

I still know of a real pretty Paint for sale!

MauritaMason said...

I still have the one. And I'm hanging on to her, too, so I'll have something to plow the fields with when we go back to the Dark Ages.

Fijufic said...

Hmmmm...

Funny what lives gives you.

Do you still wish to live on the farm? Good lord after reading Shannon's blog it sure as hell isn't something I would like to do anytime much less forever.

Bobby

MauritaMason said...

Bobby, I love living in the country. But since I spend almost half my time in the city, it feels like I'm never there. In other words, I'd love it a lot more if I didn't have to have a job.

Fijufic said...

I know what you mean. I love both. Do you like the country more than the beach?

Bobby

countrygirl005 said...

aww :( I know we would never be able to have a horse for the "hay buring" reason. Which doesn't make sense because we are hay farmers. (Actually it does.. more to sell)

The animals we have are for one purpose only- to make money. So I know how you feel.. The only reason our sheep are so friendly is because they once lived the life of a show animal. Other than dogs we have no pets.

Hopefully someday he'll come to his senses and let you have some more animals!

You could get some chickens and tell him that it will be cheaper than buying eggs ;) maybe. lol.

elb said...

Rachel! You forgot the cats! I can't believe you forgot about them...

MauritaMason said...

Oh Bobby. Don't make me choose.

Rachel - it doesn't surprise me. Sometimes I wonder if your dad and Jerry are secretly brothers. And he says I can't have chickens again until we "have a place for them" - ???

Liz, ha! I'm sure the cat(s) will remind her when she gets home. They don't like to be forgotten.

Anonymous said...

so did you at least get to keep the pet skunk? heeheeeehe

Lindsay

yackydoodle said...

the fact that he was catching them secretly at least tells you he knows he was doing something you wouldn't like.....what that buys you I don't know

MauritaMason said...

Lindsay, I'm afraid Pepe LePew suffered from a fatal bullet wound. He was, however, able to get off a shot of his own before he died.