memories of a small town vacation

Some friends of ours were passing through on their way back to their hometown. I remember years ago making a trip with them to their family home. At the time we thought it’d be fun to bring the kids, ours and theirs, on this grand holiday away from the city.

My kids were much younger then and they can only recall being awakened by the cockerel crowing right under our window and spending the day breathing in the aroma of chicken poop. And it wasn’t even a farmhouse though it did boast those chicken enclosures and a couple of farmhouse sinks. Well, thank goodness it had a decent bathroom.

Our friends had a ball. I didn’t. That weekend felt like two years to me. Time seemed to tick on by even more slowly the more eager I was to get out of there. There was nothing to do! I was bored out of my wits. While our friends feasted and raved about their mother’s cooking, I just smiled a lot and ate very little.

While our friends lazed around on the floor all day, the men chatting, the kids playing, the women knitting and reading, I was perched on the edge of the sofa swiping the mosquito repellent roll-on over my kids’ limbs and faking interest in the women’s chatter while checking the second hand of my watch every other second 😆 . I’m such a boring city kid!

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