Andrew's Blog

A City Boy Making His Way in the Country

Today was wet. And disappointing.

The rain continues. Like Noah, I too have contemplated the necessity of an ark. Although I only (and this is potentially), have a breeding pair of sheep, some ducks, and chickens. The rest are all sniped. I guess that would make us an American ark. You don’t need to be a breeding individual to be saved. You just need to be cute!

But why disappointing you ask? Eh, I don’t know. Just some unfruitful discussions and a day where I couldn’t plant my cabbage. I sense this boy and his rooster have known the same melancholy. Perhaps he hasn’t dealt with wet llamas, but instead detests his woolen hosiery and girlish mary janes. Although I would have killed for a pair in my youth.

I’m in the midst of preparing our new room – the Whitman. I need to rip up some carpet tomorrow. That’s exhilarating. My work out for the day. I’m combining purple and brown. Dangerous. Je sais. I paint with the courage of a Navy Seal entering Abootaballabomb (or whatever it is). It’ll work. And I have an orange accent pillow. I like living on the edge.

Tomorrow I’m antiquing. And I’m always happy antiquing. I have two new rooms to furnish after all. Our game room is ready for furniture. The Whitman, still a work in progress, needs everything. And I love buying everything. Just ask American Express.

I guess I’ve lost focus tonight. It could be all the rain. It could be the Trevor Project commercial I watched. Or just maybe, and just maybe, it’s the crazy month we have before us. A crazy but exciting time. Orchard House is growing. We’re launching a side business (to be revealed later). And the weather grows warmer. I also bought 2 more sheep today. They’ll be arriving in late June/early July.

If the rain continues, I welcome you all to join us on the Orchard House ark. We may sail away to a flooded world, but we’ll have a fully stocked gin cellar, and a little lamb who thinks he’s a bucking bronco. Oh, and a few dogs. Who think they’re people. But don’t give them any gin. We’ll all regret it in the morning.

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