The other morning, Hunter, the big black lab, and I drove over to Mom’s farm to weed in the pumpkin patch. After close to an hour of bending over, pulling weeds, I heard something scream. I realized it was the backs of my legs; the hams. Screaming like pigs. Enough already!? I told Hunter this was supposed to be enjoyable. Let’s go for a ride. We decided to drive back to the pond, which my son keeps mowed up for a boys’ retreat area.
I was enjoying the peace, quiet and the view:
When all of a sudden, the loudest bullfrog I have ever heard made me jump and startle Hunter. I didn’t see it, but it was either a bullfrog or a 5th grade boy warming up on his tuba.
Maybe it was hiding under one of the huge lilypads:
So that night, as I removed my sore hams from the couch and turned off the living room lamp, Abigail, the Hereford heifer, mooed. “Good night, Abigail!” I shouted out the open window. I
Who says the country-life is quiet??