I fought the farm and the farm won.

Sometimes, as I’m finishing up evening chores, watching my llamas and horses graze while the sun sets, I think that Jeremiah and I have managed to find our way into a corner of the world’s most perfect paradise.  A place over run with butterflies and hummingbirds, overcome with the sweet smell of hay or newly mowed grass.

Other times?

Well, other times I wander through the yard and make my way through some poison ivy that I didn’t know was there.  And I spend the next few hours itching and thinking about all of the places where the property is still overgrown.  (That just happened yesterday by the way.  I just picked up prednisone from the pharmacy a few hours ago.  Hopefully, by this evening, I will stop wanting to scratch my skin off.)

Sometimes, the wildness of the place is what I find most charming, and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it.  Other times, I am simply overwhelmed.

This is the double-edged sword of country living.  Keeping the chickens AND having to kill the raccoon.  Enjoying the butterflies and hoping that we managed to kill all of the black widows…but knowing that we probably didn’t.  The chipmunks that look so cute scampering around the driveway…and all the mice that come free with the house.  (We will have to do something about that, and I will feel awful because I like mice–I’ve even had a few pet ones–I just don’t like them running wild in my house.)


And I’m not even going to think about the mountain lion that we spotted earlier this year; pretty sure he was just passing through.

And in moments like this, it’s best to not think too hard about the difficulties.  Just keep calm and carry on.

Beautiful pasture, complete with lovely wildflowers and poison ivy. *Sigh*