26 March 2011

Surely Shorn

Even with the sun streaming down around us it was cold today. Unseasonably so. Maybe it is a form of selective memory, but I do continue to maintain that March should at least make a good effort to hover somewhere above freezing. Despite chapped cheeks and fingers, we ventured out to Drumlin Farm for their annual sheep shearing event, appropriately titled Woolapalooza.

I do wonder though, had the Massachusetts Audubon not already widely advertised the event, if the farmers might have chosen to wait to deprive the sheep of their winter coats. Alas, the shearing must go on.

Em, a big fan of both outside and animal noises, started out strong.

Encountering her first rooster, she was joyous and unapologetic at the volume of her exclamation: "Caw-a-doo-doo-doo!"

The cold did bring with it a few fully toddler-esque meltdowns: screaming, lie-down-in-the-goat-droppings and kick your feet tantrums. Well done, Emmaline. You are very grown up indeed.

Covered up with a blanket and tucked into her stroller (very much against her will) she did recover and go on to do great things, such as alternately tell the owl "hoo hoo" and the people looking at it "shhhh" since the bird was clearly sleeping. She clapped when the border collie finally herded the sheep into the corral. And she grunted insistently at the very pregnant pig, who I'm sure would have been more appreciative had she not been mourning the loss of her mother, who recently "went to market" ostensibly to buy some Breyers mint chocolate chip and never came back.

It was touching how many families were out with their children, despite the cold. We had piled into the car on a whim, without any appreciation of how busy it would be until we rolled into the grassy field filled with parked cars and bustling with parents pushing Bugaboos and Quinnys or strapping on the Bjorn. Apparently this is what wholesome, upper middle class Americans do on the weekend.

Emmaline in tow, Daryl and I did our best to not blow our cover and to try to fit in. Next, to achieve full camouflage here on the North Shore, I suppose we'll have to buy a boat. Until then, since we had some cash left over, we made a stop at Fuddruckers with Craig, Lindsey, and Bridget and worked on learning how to share.

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