In Another Life...

{Courtesy: Flickr}

In another life, I must've been a shepherd because very few things make me smile and pause to marvel quite the way black-faced sheep do. There's a farm near my mom's house with those same sheep, a few Alpaca and some other assorted hoofed friends and I look for them every time I pass by. When I'm lucky enough to catch a fleeting glimpse from the car window, I instantly dream of a day where D. and live in an ancient English farm house, the sky pale blue-grey and the air crisp, where Wellies and corduroy replace peep-toes and pearls. Where ruddy-faced tots pick Queene Anne's Lace and there's always a pie to be baked or a farmer's market to attend.

Last year, for a brief time, the sheep were gone. This made me strangely sad. I confessed this to mom not long after and she told me that her DH (Mr. M.) had noticed their absence and felt the same way I did. That made me feel a little better. Maybe sometimes it helps just to know there's one other person in the world who'd miss seeing sheep the same way you do.

On the way to mom's Tres de Mayo party just the other day, I saw the sheep are back. There they were, grazing and lazing away. I forgot to mention it to Mr. M, but I bet he noticed, too.


Mr. M said...

Oh, I noticed both their absence and triumpant return, making me sad, hungry, happy, and hungry in turns. I still want my own sheep. I'm happy to know that someone else feels the same.

xo Mr. M

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