This past weekend Riley volunteered to help at a local Farm Day with her classmates.
The farm was beautiful. The barns and the mountain views made me miss sweet Virginia.
The smell of the hay barn even made me miss the dairy farm on which I grew up.
London, Mosely and Bergen passed around bunnies that were so cute I almost wanted one.
Almost.
Because I had bunnies when I was a kid.
My little brother and I had matching white fluffy ones. Trapper and Whatever-Douglas-Named-His. My cousin Mark jumped into their pen once when he was visiting. He landed on Trapper, my bunny. Hard. It died. Since the bunnies were difficult to tell apart, I told Douglas that his rabbit was dead. He believed me.
I didn't confess my ten-year-old sin until we were both well into our twenties.
Sorry Douglas.
We were escorted from the parking lot to the farm site on an extended golf cart that the kids thought was just part of the fun. Mosely and London enjoyed face painting from Kendall. They all rode a horse around a small circle. (And imagine themselves cowboys now I think.) There was a rope swing with a feed bag attached to the bottom and boys assigned to push the kids on it. That was a big hit. Bergen was most excited about using an old-fashioned washing tub and wringer. He cranked that little thing with such intensity. And (Girl Staff) Riley carried Curious George around for Bergen all afternoon.
It was supposed to be a quick trip to pick up Riley from a volunteer day, but it turned into such a nice surprise.
I like when that happens.
