Farming and Traveling … . A grandiloquent saguaro cacti with outstretched arm , welcomes Cherie ’s family to the Sonoran desert on a rarified tripper off from their Washington farm .
Do n’t get me incorrect – I love our farm .
But it ’s been too long since my family and I escape the animal feeding , wienerwurst walk , manure scooping , garden tending , house cleaning , fencing fixing , bill paying , and other duties that go with living in the same place daylight after day .
The itch to see someplace different , to break out of our day-by-day modus operandi and fiddle our responsibilities , to finger untied and free to cast , is almost unbearable . Besides , I really require to see my parents , who just come about to live on in one of the endearing spots in the country ( in my coloured opinion ) .
This area seems faint years take away from our home in fleeceable , showery western Washington , even though it ’s only a three hour plane ride away : the teetotal , Sonoran desert environment near Tucson , Arizona .
So now we ’re in the demented bolt to leave , and it hit me again how incompatible these two passions are : hobby farming and traveling .
Although I ’m favourable to have a trusted friend who I exchangefarm - sittingduties with , fix to leave the farm , whether it ’s for two day or two week , is always an ordeal .
In part because I find like everything need to be done before we leave , which is impossible . Also , at the last instant , get out always seems like desertion , but particularly so on this strange spring day , with snow flurry down as I race through the stall cleaning and kiss the horses goodbye .
Driving away , all those “ what - if ? ” monsters rear their ugly head . What if Sophie colics ? What if someone break into the house ? What if dogs dig in and pour down our sheep ?
Part of me thinks : Maybe we should just stay home , as many farmers do , or else ditch the farm so it will be well-to-do for us to travel .
The other part respond , But we love them both . And it ’s not like we jet set off every other weekend ; only a couple of times a class .
As the woodworking plane takes off , the “ what - if ? ” vex behemoth retreat to their lairs . Nothing we can do now , so why worry ?
later on , the plane subside toward the earth , and the snowscape back home has become a mirage , while the desert below us flex real : sky a brilliant blue devil , Lord’s Day gilding palm trees , tall saguaro cacti with outstretched arms , welcoming us back .
I ’ll tell you more about our desert head trip next workweek .
~ Cherie
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