After a comment by iPodite's eldest, Mrs Fer The Writer, I am thinking about changing the name of Iron Acres to something more appropriate. Let me explain.
It was our love of peace and quiet, much like Mr. Flibberty-Jib's, that led me and my Dear Professor to move to the country 18 years ago. I remind myself of that each time I spend a few hours mowing our huge lawn. Watching a sun set across an expanse of green and listening to the tune of birdsong makes the labor worthwhile.
Two of our three children were supportive of the move. Son #1 The Preacher enjoyed having friends over for a campfire and late night musing over the meaning of life. Principessa loved the numerous kittens whose birth in the barn loft seemed to coincide with her birthday on more than one occasion. The holdout was Son #2 The Dreamer. His longing was to be able to walk or ride his bike to his friend's houses in the nearby town. And that is how this farmer became a chauffeur.
We enjoyed being awakened each morning by the rooster's crow. All would agree that farm fresh eggs from happy free range chickens improved my cooking considerably.
When I did cook.
Although we never had a poky little puppy, our critters have been under the watchful eye of two adopted farm dogs, Bandit and Misty. (Misty the freecycle wonder dog is appropriately named as it is a wonder when she comes when called.)
I loved our goats. They were a compact dairy alternative to cows. I like animals that are conservative on the feed and, ahem, fertilizer factor. And kidding season was always fun. Baby goats are like kittens with more fur and hooves. Their antics were always amusing. I've loved horses from childhood, but I believe I bonded most closely with our goats.
Most of the farm animals are now gone.
(I had to make room for visits to the Sprittles!) But a few of our ducks and geese are still on lawn patrol.
So there you have it, my life in Golden Book illustrations. What do you think?
Should Iron Acres be renamed Golden Book Acres?