Farm life is NEVER dull!
Not even when you wish it would be, I know.
I sent Becky and Julie each a book (it was Outlander) thru Amazon at the beginning of the summer, thinking we could have a 'book club' party while I'm home the first week of September and NEITHER OF THEM has had time to read it yet. OK, yes, it's fat, but one book!
Don't misunderstand; I'm glad to go home and 'help out' on my friends' farms for a week or two; I'll help bottle 300 quarts of fruit, turn 12 more bushels of the same fruit into juice/jelly/jam while blanching another 20 bushels of veggies to freeze. I'm competent at all that stuff--I can drive the tractor, sneak eggs out of the nests, intimidate the bloody pig, even hand milk, if I have to. I just don't LOVE to do all that stuff, and I never really did.
Cowpies in the utility room would have made me homicidal after the first week--there'd be veal for dinner after that. Lambs are cuter than calves to me; I can stand lambs for about 2 weeks before I start thinking of mint jelly every time I look at them. (I know, I'm a terrible, terrible person!)
I just have to be reminded every so often by stories about calves in the utility room and chicks in the stove, or I lose perpective here in the city on just how truly horrible a farmer's wife I would have been!