I grew up in the middle of nowhere…a tiny Southwestern Colorado town 2 hours from the nearest stoplight. Was I country kid? I guess… if the only requirement for that is physically growing up in the country and knowing all the words to Randy Travis’ latest album. We did live on a ‘ranch’ that belonged to my grandfather but I never had anything to do with any of the happenings out there other than sometimes playing in the stacks of hay bales when we weren’t supposed to. Getting Dirty? 99% no. Animals? No thanks. The only time in my life I’ve ever been on a horse (besides the photographic evidence on this post) was with my friend Val when we decided we’d take her horse for a ride from her house down main street and a few miles past that to my house. And back. Oh and her grandpa had a pony or a donkey that stepped on me once.  Another friend and I cut through a field a time or two to get home faster and we were chased by a bull.  That makes me sound country, right? Just trying to give you an idea of my extensive qualifications for owning/running a farm.

And as for Brett, he actually did spend a lot of time on his grandparents farm in wide-open-spaces Oklahoma when he was a kid. Apparently there were sheep and chickens in the vicinity (still searching for picture proof). So, again, we are a totally qualified team.

I still have no plans of getting a horse, but I will never say never around here.  Especially because our 11-year old daughter actually seems to be the only one of us who may have actually been born to be a farmer. If she had any input, we’d have a few of each animal, literally like Noah.