So, I’ve been missing for the past couple of weeks. My bad. As my big vacation gets closer, I get more and more distracted by planning and booking and daydreaming about the food and wine. Okay, mostly wine. But as I’m dreaming of the sunshine -and wine- of Europe (Athens has not been below 30 Celsius for days, apparently [I may or may not check daily]), the weather here has been it’s notorious self.
For the past three weeks or so, the weather in my town has been gross. Unfortunately, it’s a bit common here though. We almost forget what the sun looks like, my phone actually tells me the weather is “dreary,” and our local news station makes up funny acronyms like RDF (rain, drizzle, fog) and puts them on t-shirts.
|Our local weatherman wearing his job. (Source)|
This summer is supposed to be a good one. Warmer temperatures, they say. More sun, they say. Even if that’s not the case, I’m going to be in beautiful European weather in 4 days.
But right now, looking out and seeing nothing but grey day after day makes one feel just like my phone says. Dreary.
So I’ve been reminiscing on brighter times. I figured I’d share a tale of sunshine here, in case someone else is pushing through dreariness and needs to live vicariously through me.
Towards the end of last summer, I visited Liam at his childhood home in a tiny, beautiful community where the population is less than 200. We decided to spend the afternoon berry picking in the neighbouring community, whose population is (honestly) 3. That’s only if you don’t count livestock though.
So for most of the afternoon, we scoured the fields for berry patches, working between livestock pens.
Near the end of our excursion, we decided to head towards the free-range fields. I wanted to see adorable little goats. However, the first thing we encountered was not a friendly little goat, but a bull cow that was giving us the stink-eye.
|Evil intent. You can’t see it, but it’s there.|
He watched us and walked towards us, and Liam anxiously led me on a wide berth around the cow. Apparently bull cows can get pretty mad for no good reason. So I was a little on edge as we left this guy behind, probably uttering obscenities.
Further in the field, I still found no adorable goats. Instead we found adorable horses!
Adorable, big horses.
Horses that were coming right at us in excitement.
Oh dear God.
|The only picture I got of a horse. I also caught Liam’s leg. Which I was hiding behind. Artistic.|
Don’t get me wrong here. I love animals, and I really do think horses are adorable. When there’s someone around capable of keeping them from trampling me in excitement, that is. Liam had some experience because his dad is a large animal vetrinarian, and I had none. At all. Also, it wasn’t exactly smart of us to approach them with buckets, making them think that we had food for them. But they’d inspected us and our buckets, they mostly lost interest (which meant I could stop cowering behind Liam) and we turned to head back.
That’s when we realized that the herd of jerk cows were right on the only path to my car. Our only option was to wade through the grass. Grass that we soon learned sat on top of a marsh and hid many nettles. After about 45 minutes of squishing through marshy grass, losing my shoe, climbing fences and rocks, we finally made it to someone’s backyard, and back to walkable ground. That’s when we realized that cows had left the path.
Sometimes, you just have to stop, laugh and appreciate the moment (and the sunlight).