So here are some pictures of our trip to this farm near our house that farms as though it's 1860. Pretty neat. I, of course, wanted to spend time in the museum reading about life in the 1800s. The boys did not.
Here's Andrew looking in the chicken coop.
Brave guys until the rooster started chasing them...
We saw some sheep. They "baaa"d. It was a riot. :)
This is Holly. She's a baby cow. They liked her, she was both tied up and beneath them.
Here the boys are looking in the cow pen. I had just explained what all that mud was inside the pen.
Luke didn't like it.
After we looked at some of the animals, Andrew turned to me and said "Mom, now I wanna go see the zebra". Hmmm. Am I doing my kids a disservice by not having them near a farm?? When I was a kid, my grandpa still had a farm with pigs, cows, and chickens. We used to run around there like we were nuts, with directions not to jump off the haybales in the shed, don't touch the cats (they were pretty gross), and don't touch the electric fence - although we used to "warm up" rhubarb on it while getting a little shock. :) I never realized how different it would be for my kids who don't go to the farm every weekend.
Side note: the grossest parts about the farm were A) chicken butchering day - I still can smell it in my memory (gag) and B) When I realized that Spike 1, Spike 2, and Spike 3, the adorable calves my brother Aaron named had grown up and we couldn't find them anymore...(hint, they were in our freezer).
But the smell of the hay still reminds me of my grandparents house, which isn't so gross :)