WWOOFing

So farm life is pretty cute.

I've decided that collecting eggs must be one of the best joys. When they are still warm from the hen sitting on them, and they come in soft pinks and blues and greens and creams.

And weeding paddocks, while the cows watch you, mooing and chewing. And if you get too close to the sheep, they bolt away from you in a pack, their woolly masses sprinting and leaping with surprising grace.

And the baby lambs, with the long wagging tails as they drink their mother's milk.

Here's the kitchen, with the wood-stove in the front:


My room, underneath the house and frigid cold at night, so I'd go to bed snuggling hot-water bottles.


And dinner. They were a raw family, so we had a lot of salads, sprouted grain casseroles and luke-warm soups.

I loved farm-life just as much as I hoped I would. I'm inspired to keep chickens and animals, there is something so homey and substantial about it.

I did come home early, though, because I felt uncomfortable with the family dynamics. I suppose no one's life is picture-perfect, and I was sad it didn't work out, but my first taste of WWOOFing has me inspired to do more, learn more, and experience more.