If you were a boy your name would probably be Richard Jamison Ard Waller -- Jamison for everyday. Your dad and I have a good friend from our days in Nashville who is notoriously bad at keeping in touch with us named Jamison. While you wouldn't have been his namesake exactly we both agreed that the name itself was beautiful and we could forgive Jamison for being one of the worst correspondents on the face of the earth.
On our recent whirlwind tour through Nashville (what a fabulous trip!) we decided to give Jamison a call to alert him to the fact that we were going to be in the area. I told your dad that if he answered the phone, I would eat my hat. A few minutes later, I was gnawing on the bill of my cap. Jamison answered and told us that he was home, with his wife (a wonderful surprise for us) on a small little farm about 45 minutes east of Nashville. Never ones to pass up time with chickens, mules and pigs, we stopped and then decided to swing back on our way out of town for an evening on the farm.
We woke up late (you sleep well on farms) and then took a stroll around the property, greeting the livestock and soaking in the remarkable beauty of the place. Your dad and I are constantly dreaming of setting up shop on a piece of land and running a small farm; we have a hunch that farm life agrees with you too.
No comments:
Post a Comment