The Farmer and I got married on the farm, three years ago today. From that moment on, my life story veered in a direction that I never would have expected. And I am happier than I ever thought I could be.
Having a wedding at home is a lot of work, because you have to set everything up and tear it down again, but it sure is a lot of fun. We enjoyed ourselves so much, we repeat the party every year.
We don’t repeat our vows every year – the Farmer has had enough time now to realize that his Farmwife does not bake pies or shovel manure and I don’t want to give him the chance to change his mind – but we do repeat the celebration.
Our annual Fisher Farm party is just a chance to get together with family and friends – some that we don’t see all year, because of distance or busy lives or both. Filling our home with people we love is better than Christmas to me – and I get really excited in the week leading up to the event.
I do check the weather forecast, but I don’t get hung up on it. The last two years the heavens have rained on our party and it hasn’t dampened our spirits one bit. I just waited til the ground dried off, then I set out my paper bag lanterns to light a trail from the dance floor to the bonfire. Tiki torches were lit around the gardens, and a line of white rope lights was strung along the clothesline over the dance floor and around the porch. The Farmer obediently constructed, hung, assembled and moved everything according to my direction. Then he thought he would add his own little touch to the decorations: a giant wasp hive.
The Farmer thought the wasp hive – which is about the size of a basketball net – would make a nice addition to our sunroom. He hung it from the rafter, over the door. I knew he had spent the previous two evenings spraying the hive with Bug-Be-Gone – but I wasn’t all that surprised when one and then two slightly intoxicated wasps staggered into the doorway of the hive and then fell out onto the floor.
I had visions of the Mayor sitting down to his meal with a wasp landing on his head. Luckily, that didn’t happen.
The horse and donkey were very entertained watching all the people coming and going, and they seemed to enjoy the attention. They stood at the fence for most of the evening, allowing guests to pet their noses (and feed them bits of apple and sugar cubes). They moved on when stinky cigar smoke wafted through the air after dinner, but appeared again after dark when everyone moved out to sit around the campfire.
The kittens got plenty of attention – particularly HotDog, who narrowly escaped being cat-napped by the Mayor’s wife at the end of the evening.
On that note, we do have at least 5 people-friendly kittens that I would like to see adopted into a good home before it gets cold outside. If anyone is interested, please let me know. I will post photos of them on my blog: www.theaccidentalfarmwife.blogspot.com.
It may be difficult to say goodbye to HotDog, however. He has endeared himself to everyone, including the Farmer. I have caught him watching TV with the kitten asleep on his lap more than once.
We had an early summer this year, and it has lived up to its almanac prediction of being a hot one. I hope everyone had the chance to attend at least one bbq or outdoor party this year. It’s a celebration of our summer season, as it draws to a close for yet another year.
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