I think I would like to live in Farmville. For those who don’t know, Farmville is an online Facebook game which allows you to build a farm, plow, plant and harvest crops, harvest from trees and animals, and own all kinds of cute buildings and decorations, expand, rearrange and share with your other friends who play the game. The farms are tidy and as far as I can tell, maintenance-free (other than harvesting your crops before they wither). Some of my friends give me strange looks when I talk about Farmville and some go so far as to ask me why on earth I want a farm on my computer when I have a farm in real life. My answer is simple. In Farmville, the fences are easy to put up and they don’t fall down.
Real farm life is great, but it is a series of fixing what’s broken, repairing what won’t run, searching for what you need to do the repairs, rescuing horses caught in the fence, rounding up horses who have escaped from the fence (usually at the most inconvenient times) and either mowing or wishing for rain so you have something to mow. And there are always fences to put up or fences to fix.
Last Saturday we had a community choir concert. I dressed up, put on my makeup and went to pick up my mom. I noticed a horse standing on what appeared to be the wrong side of the garden fence. Upon a closer look, three of her legs were on the wrong side of the fence but the fourth was between the top wire and the rest of the fence. So, here I am, already running a little late, in my good clothes and shoes and I have to get the horse out of the fence. Luckily, it was just a matter of lifting one hind leg up and holding the wire down, but I still had a horse on the wrong side of the fence and I was already late. Farmville has nice wooden fences that never break and the horses are so well behaved, they don’t even try to escape. My horses, on the other hand, are escape artists. They can find there way OUT of anywhere. But for some reason, they can’t figure out that they can get back in the same way they got out.
A few years ago, I decided that the old piece of a fence across the road had to go. A friend with a bulldozer pushed it away and filled in some ditches and did some other repair on the pasture. An electric fence seemed to be the solution to keep the horses inside and off the newly sown ground. It was very satisfying to see all those new posts and the wire with the little orange flags fluttering in the wind and to hear the “click, click, click” that meant the horses would not even try to escape. It lasted about an hour, until the entire herd came running across the pasture and went straight through the new electric fence. Their mission accomplished, they made a u-turn and ran back through what was left of the fence, trailing wire and orange flags in their wake. We don’t even have electric fences in Farmville, because those nice wood fences work so well.
Then there is the tractor. My tractor is a temperamental machine, given to sudden bouts of refusing to start or stopping with no warning in the middle of a job. The scenario goes like this. I walk down to the tool shed and climb into the seat. The tractor starts and I back it out, at which time it stops and refuses to start. Okay, it’s out of gas – good reason. But the gas is all the way back at my house, under the carport. So, I get off, go through the gate, close the gate, walk to my house to get the gas. Of course the gas can is not where I thought it was, and when I finally locate it, it is empty. So, I get in the truck, drive to town and buy gas. I drive the truck as far as the gate, carry the can to the tool shed and fill up the tank. After a few tries, the engine starts and off I go. Just as the tractor is halfway through the gate, it stops again. Now I have an open gate, a tractor that won’t start, and I’m already tired. Things like this just don’t happen in Farmville.
But then there are those moments of joy in finding unexpected treasures of wildflowers in the woods, or dipping my toes in the branch on a hot day. There is the miracle of a newborn foal struggling to his feet for the first time, or a hidden nest of baby kittens in the fragrant hay. And when I walk into the barn and run my hand over the huge logs hewn by other hands over 100 years ago, or when I put the tractor away and look at the freshly mown pasture, or when I have been gone a while and I turn down that shady lane that means home, it’s all worth it. You can’t get any of that from Farmville.
Real farm life is great, but it is a series of fixing what’s broken, repairing what won’t run, searching for what you need to do the repairs, rescuing horses caught in the fence, rounding up horses who have escaped from the fence (usually at the most inconvenient times) and either mowing or wishing for rain so you have something to mow. And there are always fences to put up or fences to fix.
Last Saturday we had a community choir concert. I dressed up, put on my makeup and went to pick up my mom. I noticed a horse standing on what appeared to be the wrong side of the garden fence. Upon a closer look, three of her legs were on the wrong side of the fence but the fourth was between the top wire and the rest of the fence. So, here I am, already running a little late, in my good clothes and shoes and I have to get the horse out of the fence. Luckily, it was just a matter of lifting one hind leg up and holding the wire down, but I still had a horse on the wrong side of the fence and I was already late. Farmville has nice wooden fences that never break and the horses are so well behaved, they don’t even try to escape. My horses, on the other hand, are escape artists. They can find there way OUT of anywhere. But for some reason, they can’t figure out that they can get back in the same way they got out.
A few years ago, I decided that the old piece of a fence across the road had to go. A friend with a bulldozer pushed it away and filled in some ditches and did some other repair on the pasture. An electric fence seemed to be the solution to keep the horses inside and off the newly sown ground. It was very satisfying to see all those new posts and the wire with the little orange flags fluttering in the wind and to hear the “click, click, click” that meant the horses would not even try to escape. It lasted about an hour, until the entire herd came running across the pasture and went straight through the new electric fence. Their mission accomplished, they made a u-turn and ran back through what was left of the fence, trailing wire and orange flags in their wake. We don’t even have electric fences in Farmville, because those nice wood fences work so well.
Then there is the tractor. My tractor is a temperamental machine, given to sudden bouts of refusing to start or stopping with no warning in the middle of a job. The scenario goes like this. I walk down to the tool shed and climb into the seat. The tractor starts and I back it out, at which time it stops and refuses to start. Okay, it’s out of gas – good reason. But the gas is all the way back at my house, under the carport. So, I get off, go through the gate, close the gate, walk to my house to get the gas. Of course the gas can is not where I thought it was, and when I finally locate it, it is empty. So, I get in the truck, drive to town and buy gas. I drive the truck as far as the gate, carry the can to the tool shed and fill up the tank. After a few tries, the engine starts and off I go. Just as the tractor is halfway through the gate, it stops again. Now I have an open gate, a tractor that won’t start, and I’m already tired. Things like this just don’t happen in Farmville.
But then there are those moments of joy in finding unexpected treasures of wildflowers in the woods, or dipping my toes in the branch on a hot day. There is the miracle of a newborn foal struggling to his feet for the first time, or a hidden nest of baby kittens in the fragrant hay. And when I walk into the barn and run my hand over the huge logs hewn by other hands over 100 years ago, or when I put the tractor away and look at the freshly mown pasture, or when I have been gone a while and I turn down that shady lane that means home, it’s all worth it. You can’t get any of that from Farmville.
