I grew up in the tiny little town of Woodville - and by tiny, I mean population 600. It was a quaint, albeit quirky little town that was a wonderful place to spend one's childhood. Our days were spent outdoors, no matter the weather, with only our imaginations to keep us occupied. We walked to and from school and we all knew it was dinner time when our mom's took to the porch to holler for us to come in to eat. We swam in ponds, built forts in backyard forests and strolled down to the corner store to spend our pennies on candy. Our moms spent afternoons chatting over coffee and detailing the latest happenings around town. Funny enough, for such a small town, there was always something interesting going on. It was a place where waking up to your father rounding up a wandering dairy cow, or watching a load of pigs escape around main street wasn't uncommon. The townsfolk were interesting to say the least. More than a few used their lawn tractor as their daily mode of transportation. It's the only place where the town morgue could be transformed into a bistro, which surprisingly became the classiest place to eat. There was one place to get a greasy breakfast on Saturday morning and one place to pick up your mail. It had one of everything actually. It consisted mainly of one street - King Street, that was lined with mature trees and old century homes. They showed movies at the town hall in the summer months and had a grand fireworks show before everyone went back to school in the Fall. One of the places I spend many Saturday mornings however, was the market. It was small, and full of the most interesting people, but it was fun - a lot of fun. There were always the cutest baby animals that we begged our father to take home, piles of old junk waiting to be auctioned off and even a candy booth! Rows of cardboard boxes were overflowing with bags of every kind of candy imaginable. My favourite were the animals. They were all just so darn cute.
This week, I was staying just outside of Woodville. Since the wedding wasn't until later that evening, I decided to venture out to the market for the morning with my son. Though he's still small, I knew he'd love the animals and we were going to make the most of the beautiful weather and spend some time outdoors, smelling the pungent smell of a livestock barn! It didn't disappoint. There were just as many varieties of chickens and rabbits as I imagined and even more adorable little creatures than I could handle. It took extreme discipline to not buy a pair of everything to bring home.
Without currently having anywhere to put them however (partially due to my collections of junk waiting to be sold), I began thinking about what it would be like to have a little hobby farm. You know, just a few laying hens for fresh eggs. May be a few rabbits, some geese waddling around the yard and maybe even a pig. It would be so self-sufficient and it would mean I could design a quaint little farm and barnyard! I stopped myself before I got too carried away. My backyard isn't that big and I currently have enough on my plate as it is. Maybe one day. Until then, I would have to be content viewing them through a cage on market days.
Little baby chicks - just two days old!
Ducklings, of course!
And who could resist those eyes? I could use a Jersey cow for ... milk ... right? Actually, that's a total lie. My dad milked cows to help out farmers when we lived in Woodville and one that he often milked at was a Jersey farm. After milking, he could bring home a jug of fresh milk. It sounds so wonderful, but I hated the taste of it!! Now, however, I would use it for fresh whipped cream and to make butter or buttermilk with.
I actually prefer Highland cattle and the woolly sheep that look similar with their super furry heads that are dreaded with long strands of wool.
I wanted this little Border Collie puppy but she was way too expensive - not to mention, I already have a dog! She reminded me of Holly, the Collie we had growing up. As little girls, my mom would let us all play in the backyard and she would round us up and herd us like sheep.