Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Foal in Love . . .
Like most of France, we're going on vacation next week. We've rented a gîte in Normandy with friends. Despite having made the arrangements months ago, it was one of the last properties available because most French tend to plan way in advance. Fred's parents start settling their itinerary for his next birthday before he's even blown out his candles. I know it's about being thrifty and not having to worry about missing life's celebrations, but for some reason I can't commit. Not even for things I know I'll be attending like my wedding or goddaughter's first communion. I have no excuse and rarely has my procrastination ever been rewarded with a last-minute deal that would make all the (avoidable) stress worth it. I do the research months in advance like most, but when it comes to pulling the trigger I can't be bothered to get out of my chair to find my credit card. I've been a bit worried about what surprises may be awaiting us at our vacation spot given it wasn't snapped up by some well-prepared French family. But yesterday the owner called to tell us that there is a 4-day old baby donkey on the property. I've never thought about a baby donkey before in my life, but now he's all I can think about. What's his name? Can I pet him? Will his tiny back buckle when I ride him into town? Now I could give a spotted ass about the condition of the cottage. I'm going to be sleeping in the stable with my baby donkey.