We had the afternoon off and so a few of us went to visit a local farm. It's run by a German couple with their two boys under five. We wandered through the woods up to a pasture on a hill. The boys found a turkey feather and could name the red tailed hawk that flew above us. The cows are let loose after their morning milking and left to graze over the three hundred acres of farm, pasture, and wood. I wore my father's industrial work boots. He was six foot four and needless to say I, his fifteen year old daughter, do not wear the same size shoe. Still, it was a good decision considering that twenty cows produce a whole lot of poo.
Anyways, the boy in the pictures is their eldest, Oliver. He and our English teacher, Kasperzak, really hit it off. Half way through the visit we noticed that both had disappeared. We found them again in the chicken coup trying to catch one.
I've been thinking a lot lately about what on earth I'm going to do with my life. So far my list includes librarian, something involving archival photographs, some kind of teacher, and now, farmer.
We may poor, but we get by.
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