Oh but that's not all. After the Winter Farm came the Hawaiian Farm and even though I barely have that one under control we've received Jade Falls, our Japanese getaway. The music for this one is the loveliest of all the farms. You go into a meditative state on this farm and keep playing on for another 20 minutes past the time you would have naturally. You also pull out your credit card and buy FV dollars in which the Impatient will purchase the newest and hard to get trees and animals. If you wait long enough, Danielson, you will obtain these animals and trees through other people's throwaways. And if you don't, here is where you've fully learned Zen....you don't want what you haven't got. Or was that Sinead O'Connor?
However, all of these farms cause us hardcore Farm Folk to spend way more time than should be spent on a game. So yes, I am waiting with extreme expectancy for someone, anyone, to come up to me right now with a ribbon of Excellence for writing instead.
I've moved the writing party to the front porch so that I can put the piggies out to graze in the grass. I have a strong Guilt gene and it flares up when I walk by them and have to use the High Piggie voice to make sure they respond since they look like death took them with a yawn. They just look so bored in there. Kyyo is still not well but surprisingly has been hanging on for weeks. He looks like one of those gastro bypass experiments....the suddenly skinny pig who's face would look a bit better with a tad more weight on him. I thought the fresh air might perk his spirits and by that idea alone, the other pig, the healthy rambunctious one, also needs to come outside or it just wouldn't be fair (Yes, Guilt gene, I hear you.)
I live in a village so anything that goes on to create that weekend, homey, quaintness that villages enough, is audible from my apartment. Right now the farmer's market is happening and they usually have a singer/songwriter (can we stop using that phrase? Why not just singer?) singing along to your applying discretion to the red leaf lettuce from this stand or that.
I hear we are in a flash flood warning, another great reason to "Like" your town on Facebook. As soon as I sign on to get my FB Fix, there's the Heavy, waiting to let me know to be careful. So before I build an ark out of Erdinger bottles, I'll sit out here and enjoy the Pre-Storm breeze and gray skies.
Speak of the Devil. Melodic guilt just walked in. The Singer/Songwriter just expelled the Father of all guilt songs, "Cats in the Cradle". As a paying customer to this apartment and air space, I do not want to hear this song. While it's a great song, one note of it bothers me to the point of wanting to call my therapist. Good thing it is now over or I would have had to walk down, braless and barefoot to grab the nearest batch of kale and stuff it in his mouth.
The breeze is picking up a bit, and I see my child zooming back from the library in her black velvet dress. She insisted on a Saturday morning at 10am to go to the library in a black velvet dress. Yet if we were going somewhere where we'd be more represented, she'd have on some dirty shirt she's worn and dropped food on along with mismatching socks and a ball of knotted hair in the back of her head.
My sober shhhh time is over for now. So I'll continue to drink my cold coffee, enjoy the breeze and plant some crops.
