Healthy and encouraging too. Exactly what I was looking for in a roadside stand. Unfortunately the doctor was not in. (Remember Lucy's 5 cent counseling fee?)
In all seriousness, I have been asking the EGE for a couple of years to build a produce and flower stand for me. Because it's not enough to have three or four children, three or four jobs and three or four horses all at once. I need to throw in a little side business selling eggs and zinnias.
If I close my eyes and breathe in and out very slowly, I can conjure that exact hot, dusty stable smell, timothy hay and clean stall shavings and horse heaven in one breath.
Although we keep a couple of horses on our little piece of land, we recently moved Maddy's horse Seven to the barn you see in those pictures. It's a mile and a half away and has a very 1940s movie set feel, with echoes of the racing Thoroughbreds it was built for. The local lore says Clark Gable had a horse there in 1955. Mr. Gable was shortly thereafter married to the ex-wife of the stable owner, and can't you just imagine that the drama was not all in the beauty of the landscape?I just love that kind of drama... the kind that's over and done with a long time ago!
Yesterday was our typical whirlwind. The EGE was gone to Portland. (Powell's Bookstore without me. I can't wait to see the credit card receipt.) The girls had at any given point in time from one to six friends over. This is not a typo. I don't know what I was thinking proclaiming that we oughta be the hangout house. Maybe I was thinking kids are a lot quieter and cleaner (and easier on the pantry) than they actually are.
It was really charming until I discovered there were eight children under there, eating underripe grapes and plotting how to catch fairies. Okay, so the fairy part is still charming. And to the other moms? I'm so sorry about the sick tummies.
I just can't get over the ghost of Rhett Butler roaming our little village. This will be bad for my Scarlett O'Hara syndrome. Mark my words. The next thing you know, I'll have a produce stand that's painted with the lettering, "As God is my witness, I'll nevah be hungry again!" And then I'll sell cute little bundles of basil while wearing a velvet gown made of draperies. It's all so dramatic and cinematic, I can hardly stand it.
Oh, why oh why wasn't I born to wear hoopskirts on a plantation? With nannies to help with the children?