Loading bales at the end of the day

Dear friends of ours host a family farm day every year, where literally hundreds of people come to play. Young and old alike enjoy the opportunity to taste, touch, see and experience things that were once a familiar way of life, but now are fast disappearing. If you had come last Saturday, you could have dug potatoes, played tug-of-war, eaten organic beef, ridden on a horse-drawn wagon, sat on hay bales, tapped your toes to fiddle music, and, in general, had an absolutely FUN day. Here's a link to see what they had lined up.



But, the trick is, of course, that you would have had to take the time to actually stop whatever else you were doing and go.



I almost didn't. Too much to do, too far behind, couldn't justify the time expenditure. That's been my thought pattern every year for the past few years.



And then, suddenly, I remembered that these precious and supportive friends took time off to drive several hours to attend my son's wedding. With that in mind, and the thought of catching some golden photo ops for this blog, I grabbed my camera and we dashed out the door.



Of course, by the time we got there, it was basically over. I missed the digging potatoes, tug-of-war, organic beef, horse-drawn wagon, and fiddle tunes. I missed the excited groups of city children playing on a real farm, the happy families enjoying an amazing opportunity, and the chance to actually enjoy the day.



But, I did come face-to-face with the reality that I have relegated play to the lowest priority. As an over-achieving adult, I've believed that play is what we do when we get everything else done. Kind of like getting to eat dessert only after you eat all the brussel sprouts and raw oysters.



What a mistake.



Next year, I plan to show up at 10:00 a.m.—when they open—and participate whole-heartedly in playing on a farm.



If you need permission to play, I hope this blog has provided it.  smiley



Tristan removing the harness from the draft horses



Learning a lot,



Diana