The Big Smoke

I grew up in an urbane Toronto family that finds great amusement in my defection to rural life. While I love visiting said family, the pace of my Toronto days is vastly different from that of my Deroche days. Without a menagerie (David included) to feed, water, clean and exercise my sense of self begins to warp and slide. Although academic pursuits are enough to keep my mind engaged, I quickly go stir crazy without the physical reality of life on Farcical Farm. Long walks and lunches with friends are helpful, but down time here is completely (and maddeningly) unhindered by that never-ending list of things I should be doing. I wonder if real farmers go through similar withdrawal when spending time away from their farms.