folks and orchards
I am very interested in my mother's opinion of the farmhouse. Her gut feeling about the place won't have me throwing money on the barrel head or bolting from the contract, but it does matter. She's intuitive about places and has high standards. If she walks around the house and has a good feeling about it, it will mean a lot to me. It's not that I want her to be impressed, farms aren't exactly her style, but I want her to understand it and consider it good for me. And my Dad's thoughts on the place are just as important. He'll want to walk around and rap on wooded walls and ask me about the oil tank and wood stove. He'll ask about the farm layout and want to see the orchard. He's a huge fan of apples, him. He'll want to see what will be creating future pies and cakes. I miss them all the time.
My folks called from Palmerton to tell me that over 18 inches is weighing down the pines in the backyard. Here in Vermont, we never got the snow predicted. You can see grass and green moss everywhere, and it was above freezing today. Might as well have been late March, for the weather. The horses at the farm across the road from Wayside seemed to leap in pre-spring joy. I didn't have the heart to tell them we may still get nailed with snow yet.
Good news: back in the truck again tomorrow.