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strange coincidence.

For the first half of my life, my Uncle Rick and Aunt Georgie (and after a few years Caitlin and then Sarah) lived on a farm. When I was very very little, it was a pig farm. Later, they only had a few laying hens, for eggs (mm, best eggs ever). My grandma and I would go visit for the weekend several times a year, almost once a month, I'd say. They came to see us too, of course, or we all went to Nassau or Vermont, but mostly we visited them at their home. I had so much fun there every time. Not only did I get to play with my cousins, but there were cats, a huge rabbit, sometimes a dog, plus the chickens. There were fields to run around in, woods to explore, the creepy old barn and garage. Sometimes I got to drive the tractor.






Now, it's owned by my uncle's friend. I knew they ran a business out of there, but I thought it was soapmaking and things like that. I've been wrong about that for the past 10 years.


It's an angora rabbit farm.

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