Grass is Greener

Camping is different here. We pitched our tent in a dairy farmer's field and the boys and Penny (our lab) went nuts. Maybe it was the fresh air or the heavenly stars, or the bucolic rolling hills, or maybe just finally being together—whatever the cause, our stay there was sublime. Even when it rained.

After a night of listening to cows snore, we woke to a steady downpour and slogged to the farmer's house for a breakfast of homemade bread, butter (no kidding), cheese, jam, and yogurt. He had made everything himself, except for the coffee. The milk, needless to say, was fresh.

I left with a sack full of raspberries, local Gruyere, and blueberry yogurt. It's the simple things . . .