fly bird
cowboy girl
When my niece, Acy, came to visit a couple of weekends ago, we loaded her up in the car with an emergency stack of Fruit Rollups and headed to the farm at Warren Wilson. It is one of the most beautiful places in the world, I think.
When I was a freshman there, we had to go on a scavenger hunt during our orientation to the school. The hunt was partially about learning about the school and partially about learning about each other. With around 400 students at the time, we found out about each other pretty quickly.
The farm. It was one of the things that drew me to that school because I had grown up visiting dairy farms with my dad as he worked. And it was a comfort, a reminder of home, that farm. I never worked on the farm, but I loved that it was there.
When my peer group and I made it around the corner from the math building, we could see over the garden and the fields, all the way to the river and beyond to what Betsy later named the "bowl" in the mountain ridge.
Alice pointed to one field where a herd of gigantic pigs roamed. They have some gigantic pigs, no joke.
"Look at those weird looking cows," she said.
She grew up in D.C., she explained when we all started laughing.
So when Acy was here, we visited the gigantic "cows" with scrotums the size of cantaloupes. We visited the barn where all the little piglets were eating breakfast and walked the fields to see the cows and the chickens and the horse.
Even though she's only three, Acy is one of my True Friends. We bonded over the chicken dance when she was a baby (I'd sing the tune and flap my arms and she would laugh and laugh and laugh). Pat bonded with her when she was just one, when she would pull him under her bed and the two of them would make fart noises. She is smart and feisty and sweet and independent and creative, with just enough meanness thrown in.
Who wouldn't love someone who found the chicken dance and fart noises hilarious?
When we were at the farm, we found her a "cowboy rope." She's in love with cowboys, and what she calls cowboy girls. That's what she wants to be, she said. So we found two pieces of frayed twine at the farm and pretended to lasso posts and trees and Pat's legs. He became the horse we chased down and tied up. Then Acy would tell him to run away, then she'd run like crazy after him. Every once in a while he became a monster we'd chase.
So this is the beginning of my True Friend series. I know, I know. But what the hell. Maybe it's all the cold medicine I'm on, but I'm feeling that I need to honor all of you out there.
And I think it's from watching "In America" today in Day Three of The Illness Redux. I've seen it at least four times, God love HBO. I just love that movie and when Mateo yells at Johnny, "I love you. I love your beautiful woman. I love your children. And I love YOUR ANGER!"
That made me love all of you.
cowboy girl
When my niece, Acy, came to visit a couple of weekends ago, we loaded her up in the car with an emergency stack of Fruit Rollups and headed to the farm at Warren Wilson. It is one of the most beautiful places in the world, I think.
When I was a freshman there, we had to go on a scavenger hunt during our orientation to the school. The hunt was partially about learning about the school and partially about learning about each other. With around 400 students at the time, we found out about each other pretty quickly.
The farm. It was one of the things that drew me to that school because I had grown up visiting dairy farms with my dad as he worked. And it was a comfort, a reminder of home, that farm. I never worked on the farm, but I loved that it was there.
When my peer group and I made it around the corner from the math building, we could see over the garden and the fields, all the way to the river and beyond to what Betsy later named the "bowl" in the mountain ridge.
Alice pointed to one field where a herd of gigantic pigs roamed. They have some gigantic pigs, no joke.
"Look at those weird looking cows," she said.
She grew up in D.C., she explained when we all started laughing.
So when Acy was here, we visited the gigantic "cows" with scrotums the size of cantaloupes. We visited the barn where all the little piglets were eating breakfast and walked the fields to see the cows and the chickens and the horse.
Even though she's only three, Acy is one of my True Friends. We bonded over the chicken dance when she was a baby (I'd sing the tune and flap my arms and she would laugh and laugh and laugh). Pat bonded with her when she was just one, when she would pull him under her bed and the two of them would make fart noises. She is smart and feisty and sweet and independent and creative, with just enough meanness thrown in.
Who wouldn't love someone who found the chicken dance and fart noises hilarious?
When we were at the farm, we found her a "cowboy rope." She's in love with cowboys, and what she calls cowboy girls. That's what she wants to be, she said. So we found two pieces of frayed twine at the farm and pretended to lasso posts and trees and Pat's legs. He became the horse we chased down and tied up. Then Acy would tell him to run away, then she'd run like crazy after him. Every once in a while he became a monster we'd chase.
So this is the beginning of my True Friend series. I know, I know. But what the hell. Maybe it's all the cold medicine I'm on, but I'm feeling that I need to honor all of you out there.
And I think it's from watching "In America" today in Day Three of The Illness Redux. I've seen it at least four times, God love HBO. I just love that movie and when Mateo yells at Johnny, "I love you. I love your beautiful woman. I love your children. And I love YOUR ANGER!"
That made me love all of you.