- Your husband's co-worker calls to see if he can have his truck towed to your property, because he hit a cow on his way back to town from work.
- You stand in your driveway* swapping stories of door-crashing animals with the co-worker's girlfriend, and she can one-up your story about the previous day's turkey/duck/goat poop fest with the story of the time her horse climbed the porch and walked on into the house. She wins. (*Is it technically a driveway if it's 1/8 - 1/4 mile long? At what point does it become a lane? I'd prefer to call it a lane. Probably isn't quite long enough. Shoot.)
- On Tuesday, you drop your 9-yr-old daughter's best friend off at the bottom of her driveway after choral group lessons. She clambers over the cattle guard (she's not very tall) and climbs onto the 4-wheeler she has stashed behind an old truck, then rides on up to her house. (I bet we could call her driveway a lane - it's at least 1/4 mile long.)
- After her Thursday choral group practice, your nine-year-old daughter is off to calf roping lessons. She may or may not be wearing her scuffed red cowboy boots. Country girls like high heels, too.
Love from the farm,