Today the llamas arrived. On the left is Richard, the sweet husband of Hyacinth, a sassy and diva-esque llama. We were told she was a “brat.” I’m not really sure what that means. She does eat all the food, and she does do what she wants to do, but doesn’t that just make her a strong, independent woman in today’s society? Here at Orchard House, we appreciate confidence with little splash of Whitney Houston. It keeps things interesting.
So the llamas aren’t too thrilled with their barn as of yet. And that’s odd, as it is about as cold outside as it can possibly be without me crying. They are slowly moving towards the barn, though, as I have put some hay in a wheelbarrow and keep feeding them handfuls of grain. If they want to stay out all night, god bless them. I’ll be under my duvet.
Our one concern is that Richard still has his halter on and we missed the split second opportunity we had to remove it. So we wait. We are working on Richard’s terms now. If I were a llama, or any other farm animal for that matter, I would’t want to wear a halter – just think about the itching. If it doesn’t come off tonight, we’ll get it tomorrow. There is always tomorrow. (Please make your predictable Annie or Gone with the Wind reference right now. I’ll wait. Thank you.)
And so this city boy has made it one step closer to country gentleman. I use words like “barn,” and “hay,” and “halter.” While I may still be hiking up that steep learning curve to country living, every day brings new discoveries and progress. I have attempted to back up my horse trailer twice now. Once, getting hay yesterday, with extensive coaching. And today, getting the llamas, when I handed over the reigns of the GMC to a driver with greater skill. I may just get my diploma in country living when I can parallel park with my trailer. Ugh. Maybe I’ll just go for my GED.