Letters from Virginia

Here's an old photo of us doing something we don't do much anymore—riding together.
Sweet memories.

FarmWife is going to leave me pretty soon. She's going to Virginia on business, and while she's there she expects to meet other mules, go out driving in a meadowbrook cart, and see some beautiful horse-dotted countryside. I am only a teeny, weeny bit jealous.

She promises to write me every day, and I'll share her correspondence with you.

You can't come kidnap me while she's away, because she's leaving other competent human grownups in charge while she's gone. They'll be agile, attentive, and heavily armed.

You can come kidnap the Volvo if you want, as long as you're willing to slip $750 under the door before you leave.

FarmWife also promises that this "too busy to ride, too busy to blog" business will subside after her trip. September and October have been very crazy for her, but I don't judge her. My heart is capacious and forgiving.

Ears,
Fenway Bartholomule