I never got to meet Uncle Fenny but I hear a lot about him and sometimes I think I feel his presence. He would have wanted me to give you an update, as there are some very exciting things happening in our family now—things he would have very much wanted for us.
Fenway Bartholomule died, as you may well remember, on the eve of Farmwife's 39th birthday. He went suddenly and peacefully and we still don't know why. He was 22. He was living at our good friend's place, since the family home had been sold in a divorce. Those were strange years. Farmwife sometimes thinks he stayed just long enough to help her find herself, and left when he knew she'd be ok.
I joined the family in 2021, and I've passed this time living at a family member's house among myriad horses, ponies, rabbits, dogs, and chickens. I was happy enough there, but Farmwife and I never got to know one another as closely as we both would have liked. Most days, I didn't see her. Farmwife was living in the suburbs, and working full time, and raising her family. Her daughters are now 17, 20, and 24. Her stepchildren are 25, 31, and 34.
Ah, did I forget to tell you? Farmwife is a step mother! She went tumbling, some time ago, head over heels into love. Newly married, she is happier than a pig in straw*. She could hardly adore someone more than she adores her husband. It's a silly thing to see, and I rather like it for her.
Farmwife's new husband, whom we shall call TL (The Love), caused a really splendid little barn—Hoofhouse—to be built in their front yard for me and my best friend Puck. Two days ago, to the great delight of everyone involved, we moved in with the family! So far, we love it here. Our forested paddock has the right mix of edible foliage, dappled shade, sweet sunbeams, soft footing, meandering paths, and a trough full of the most delicious water. TL, despite being new at horse and mule husbandry, has already proven himself by helping stack timothy and teff hay to the rafters.
I was never sure if I should follow in Uncle Fen's hoofsteps as a blogger before now, but after a couple of days of living together here at Hoofhouse I'm pretty sure Farmwife and I have some stories to tell together. I think you should keep your ears tuned, and expect to hear more from us.
Watch for the 2025 State of the Farmlet Address, which will come with updates about beloved family members of yore—Clover the Chihuahua, for instance, who has just one eye and more lipomas than you can shake a stick at but is still a delight—and new ones yet to be introduced. It will be a pleasure to bray to you.
Ears to you,
Songbird Sparrowgrass
*contrary to the more offensive version of this simile, pigs don't like to wallow in excrement.
