Wandering along the back roads, we stopped at the Mountain Valley Farm for some farm fresh honey, eggs, and maple syrup. The "store," sitting in the open doorway, was unattended - just an old metal cash box to leave payment on the honor system.
I like the ramp out of the barn so the chickens can come and go at will - their very own yellow brick road.
Just down the road, this herd of cows was hanging out by an old school bus - perhaps discussing their bovine baccalaureate, or moving on to advanced study at cow college, or the finer points of wheat and oat content in corn silage, or how the black and white hair of the Holstein cow is the same color as the leggings of the Wicked Witch of the East?
These two curious ones broke away from the herd and wandered over to the fence to see if the tourists had anything of interest to offer - perhaps they thought we were big munchkins ready to raise our voices in song. Finding neither handout nor serenade, the two went back to creating their own entertainment.........
....cow wrestling! Yeah, that's it, they're wrestling. Isn't that what parents tell the kids anyway? "Mommy and daddy are wrestling, go back to bed," or, in this, case, mommy and mommy are wrestling. Click those cloven hoofs together - there's no place like home........
Good one. :)
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