Happy Place

As I wandered home from the farm this afternoon, smelling as only one who has spent too long cleaning cow cubicles of dung does, there were a couple of walkers meandering up the lane behind me.  I turned off through the gates and couldn’t help but wonder what those walkers were thinking as they walked past (I admit, this is very self-obsessed, they were probably wondering where the nearest pub was or what they would have for tea).  J and I used to holiday in this part of the world regularly, and whenever we came across locals in their gardens, we’d start talking about how lovely it must be to live here, what their life in this beautiful place was like; our musings all completely rose tinted, of course.  But as I wandered into the yard, to be ambushed by our twelve chickens (automatically assuming, if I had appeared I must also have some sort of treat for them – to them, I am a walking vending machine), and squeaked at by the guinea pigs from afar, I did allow myself a teeny tiny smug moment.

It is all too easy, when just plodding on through life’s great mire, to forget about how good things are sometimes.  If you had told me two years ago, that two years down the line I’d be working on a farm, no longer terrified of cows, have chickens and outbuildings (I mean, outbuildings (albeit rented) how grand!), and our home would be surrounded by beautiful countryside.  I mean yes, admittedly, we’re much poorer financially, but hell; we have outbuildings…and chickens!!  I would have been very, very happy.

Happy 01

Of course, this isn’t to say I spend all my days dancing around the yard with glee, appreciating that wonderful view, a la Julie Andrews atop the mountain at the start of The Sound of Music.  No, instead I spend my days trying to remind myself that the children are perfectly normal 3 and 4 year olds, and not actually evil dwarves who have been sent to earth specifically to torment me, and ruin any toilet trip I have the audacity to make.  Because life is like that, it’s all too easy to forget the good things you have, because those niggling annoying things are just so much more…niggling and annoying (especially when you really just want a quiet poo).  Though to be honest, sometimes I do sing and dance around the yard, but generally when the children are out, or ensconced in front of Cbeebies, and the freedom just goes to my head.


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