Cabin Fever in the Burbs

I have got to get out of here.

I haven't been out to the farm in over a month. It could be closer to two months. Part of this is the amount of work we suburban homeowners must do in order to keep up the appearances of being normal nice people. Gotta rake up the leaves and you know, that kind of thing. I must not complain because I'm just happy for all the big legit trees around our little slice of heaven here. And remind myself how lucky I am to have a little slice of heaven. Even if it's in (shudder) town.

Also, we got a dog, a puppy, who needs to be housebroke before we take him out to Grandma's house for a weekend. Remember, my mom, aka Grandma, has never had a House Dog. In our world, the dog lives in the barn, where he is useful. The only time a puppy was in our house he only lasted a night or two. At his first vet visit, the poncey vet was disgusted that we had him sleeping in the pig barn. Well duh. He's a dog. Idiot.

I digress. In order to even get the Dog we had to have Grandma on board. She likes the cute wrinkly little fella. She just wanted to make sure he didn't crap in her house. Because that's the deal on the farm right? The poop stays outside.

There's a big family dinner at the paternal Grandparental home this weekend! It includes both sisters and a brother in law and cousins and other set of parents. That's right, Jethro and I have parents who hang together.

(Sorry, just got distracted. Jethro brought home an electronic metronome- for the kids, right?- and he's currently ripping out a killer white British boy blues riff while the irritating contraption clicks. I tell ya for the pasty white son of English immigrants who listen to Chopin, my man can play the blues. God love 'im.)

So ennyways, big family get together. Jethro the Genius Blues Boy and I and our kids are the only ones who live outside of the fifteen minute drive hometown radius. I miss my family, the whole damn rottin' lot of them! I miss the culture clash of ex-British Canadian and two hundred years of Canadian Mennonite and how the two families have blended so beautifully and laugh at our differences and celebrate our similarities!

I miss my horse. My boy says he misses his horse SO MUCH that his heart is THIS CLOSE to breaking. I tell him I know how he feels. I really do. I haven't lived with my horse for over fourteen years. I got a husband out of the deal, and got to keep the horse thanks to parents who insist on keeping him around, but I know how it is to miss an animal. Especially one who is so special.

So tomorrow will be a big day for our Little Dog. He'll be meeting the horses for the first time! And he'll be meeting the cousins for the first time! First visit to Grandma's and to Granny's. He's not a farm dog, let's face it, but if he's a dog after all. (Maybe crossed with a pig, a monkey, a cat and a rabbit.) What dog wouldn't love to have a few acres to run madly over? I mean, I myself have been known to run madly through the field, waving my arms over my head and yelling with joy. Must look pretty funny to those driving by on the highway.

Ah, I can't wait to get out there.

Must go, there's a great jam session going on upstairs in the dining room and I'm missing out. Next time: GO WILD IN THE COUNRTY!