Something about this place just makes you want to move to a 200 acre farm and have a bunch of chickens and cows. I love the sight of little calves running after their mommas, the thought of fresh eggs in the morning, seeing my little sons in straw hats and black overalls, rolling hills, vegetable gardens in bloom with peas running along their lines. It seems wonderful, idyllic, peaceful, simple. As I ride around in my car taking in these sights I long for that kind of life. Then...then....
then I get out of my car and something hits me. It's no longer the sight of a romantic old rock barn (hey, where can I get me one of those?). It's the smell of big old cows and chickens. Then I change my mind, and high-tail it back to my car to the nearest outlet mall. After all, what are vacations for?
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