To Miss or Not to Miss?

I’ve been remiss in posting to my blog. I’ve been remiss in writing anything, as a matter of fact. Busy, busy, busy, but those are only excuses, aren’t they?

I hope to get more writing done while I’m house/dog sitting for Stephen over the next several weeks. The farm was always a good place for a little peace and quiet. But, after my first night there, I began to think about the things I miss and the things I don’t miss.

I’m not sure how long this will go on, especially since I’m always pretty tight-lipped when it comes to putting personal things out into the blogosphere. But, at least for now, my reasons for missing or not missing feel pretty safe. Also, this is one of those topics that I think to myself, “Why would anyone even care?”

But I’m going to write it anyway, even if it’s just to “unplug” my stopped-up writing. At least it’s writing. Right?

So, here goes:

Reason #1 I Miss the Farm:

jubie and bear

I’ve missed my dear, sweet dogs, Jubie and Bear. It’s strange to me sometimes, how much we love our dogs. Some people have asked me why I didn’t take at least one of them when I left the farm. There are a couple of reasons:

  1. I didn’t want to separate them. They play together all the time, and although I’m not sure if dogs are capable of love, I think they love each other.
  2. The farm is all they know.
  3. It wouldn’t be fair to keep a dog that’s used to 27 acres in an apartment with no yard.

But this morning, when I woke to the sound of Bear’s tail pounding the bed next to me, I had to stop myself from crying…force myself to enjoy the moment.

Reason #1 I Don’t Miss the Farm:


Michel the Rooster. I’ll admit, I’m not completely comfortable feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs. The biggest reason is because of Stephen’s warning that Michel may attack me, and to be wary of him. But also, we’ve found big, black snakes in the coop, and I don’t like snakes.

This morning, Michel came into the coop as I was collecting eggs. Scared me to death. Obviously he came in to protect his territory. I tried to shoo him out, which only made him more aggressive. All I could think was, “I’m about to be attacked by a rooster. I’ve never been attacked by a rooster. How long will a rooster keep up his attack? Will he bite?” Seriously. He might as well have been a Great White Shark.

Fortunately, with enough shooing and yelling, “Get out!” he finally retreated.

Face it. I am not a country girl.


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18 Responses to To Miss or Not to Miss?

  1. Jan Morrill says:

    Reblogged this on Sisterhood of the Traveling Pen and commented:

    Whoa! It’s been a long time since I’ve shared anything on the Sisterhood blog! Here’s a peek at what’s inside my head. πŸ™‚


  2. Mendy Knott says:

    I think this is a perfectly good post. It’s nice to get to know the more personal sides of the writer, I think. It’s all a part of why we write the way we do. Good for you.


    • Jan Morrill says:

      Thank you, Mendy. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you through your writing. Still, it’s something I have to work on — opening up through my writing. Hope all is well in your new home!


  3. Welcome back to your “old home.” Sounds like a great opportunity to examine the bitter and sweet in life.
    PS Black snakes aren’t dangerous. One bit me on the big toe in the 1980s and all that happened was I got a good story to tell.
    PPS Plop a cardboard box over Michel until you are finished egg gathering. Or call C Hope Clark for advice – she’s an expert! ( “What’s the worst thing that could happen and what would you do?” as she would say.


    • Jan Morrill says:

      Kimberly, I agree–there will be a lot of bitter and sweet while here at the farm. I’m not so much afraid of black snakes, unless they startle me. And as for Michel, I think I’ll bring in some plywood to block the door where he comes in. πŸ™‚


  4. patlaster says:

    Yes, dear Jan, this IS writing! And important writing, at that. Keep it up–daily, of course, if possible. pl


  5. Necia says:

    I think you are right, and kind, to leave the dogs together. Of course they are capable of love, both of humans and of each other. They are a responsibility just short of children, though, as you know. Chickens I can take or leave. Living in the country is something I like, unless there are noises that I don’t recognize. I miss the quiet of the country. We have highway noise at all hours, though when I bought the house the highway wasn’t in the plan….. good to hear from you, Jan. Necia


  6. Do beware of attack roosters. If the feathered monster lays a spur on you, The Sisterhood will be forced to separate the fowl bird from his fancy-combed head.


  7. From one not-a-country-girl to another. I enjoyed reading this. And you know…there’s always Friday Fictioneers just for the fun of it. πŸ˜‰




  8. I’m with you, girl. I grew up in the country. I hate spiders and snakes, and that ain’t wh– (sorry, I got distracted.) I’m sad about your dogs though. YOU are such a generous, unselfish person. I don’t know that I could have walked away.


  9. rgayer55 says:

    It was nice to see a post from you. I always look forward to reading your wit and wisdom.


  10. Beth Carter says:

    Haha. Loved the post and pics–and I so agree. I’d be scared to death of the rooster and of black snakes. I am so not a country girl but do enjoy the serenity of it all for awhile–not for life. Glad you’re enjoying Jubie, Bear and getting back to writing!


  11. When I was little we had a chicken that everyone in the family loved, except me. The minute I would step outside it would chase me around the yard pecking at my legs. I’d love to live on a farm, but no chickens or black snakes allowed πŸ™‚


  12. Pingback: Rainbow Year | Jan Morrill Writes

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