Thursday, June 19, 2003

Heavy Petting



The farm used to be part of a psychiatric institution.


Met up with Darcie's mom this afternoon at the Brattleboro Retreat Petting Farm; she'd gone with her kindergarteners in the last weeks of school and thought it would be perfect for the baby. Willow was amazed by the newborn Holstein calf, bored about the emu, interested in the chickens and bunnies, the pigs and llamas, thrilled with the half-grown chicks that we held up to her. She said moo to the cows and deedle deedle deedle to the chickens and E-I-E-I-O to everything and meow when she saw the cat. The big yelling ewe with her young twins scared the shit out of her. She loved sitting in a silo half-buried in feed corn more than anything, though.

I was happy, too. Happy with the tiny goats that greeted us at the gate, happy about the black-green emu eggshells, happy to hold a baby duck once again. Happy to bury my daughter in dusty feed corn, and to run my hands under and through it, feeling it's cool weight. Having tinylife in my hands was once a daily part of my life, back during that Fellowship at the Boston Museum of Science; I hadn't remembered how much I missed it. And the best part is, I got to leave with the cutest baby animal there, the one who calls me Daddy.

Late lunch at the Top O' The Hill Grill on the way home afterwards; I had them put cole slaw in my pulled pork wrap and it was good.

posted by boyhowdy | 8:46 PM |

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