Hen Picked or Hand Picked?

Anyone reading Kelly's last post would have to agree how endearing it is. Adding the serenity of a simple "Country Life" to "Urban Chaos" is the all American dream, isn't it? In my mind it certainly is! If you know John and Kelly, then you are aware that lover's lane was named after them. Trust me when I say this in the most, healthy, team oriented, workaholic, OCD way, you would see the true origin of that wacky song by Donny and Marie Osmond, "I'm a little bit country, I'm a little bit Rock in Roll". They are the best of everything rolled into two bundles of self-contained joy.
Every time I see John, or Poopsie as he is so lovingly called, I think to myself: hmmm, I gotta get me one of those. He is one of the greatest guys I know. Anyone that has heard my ranting and raving about the male species KNOWS I don't say that lightly. Of course as all you single, incredible women out there will agree, every man I truly admire happens to have a wife attached to him. That is the way it goes I guess. Which is the only reason I secretly can't wait for Polygamy to come back into fashion...especially since every group of females I know can't seem to go to the bathroom alone anyway.
So I just added this day dream to my mind: one great house with great furniture, a wildbird garden in the back, a secondhand store, metal creations, which is John's line of work, the dogs, the cats, the hens, the beehives, Pygmy goats, the combined group of children from previous marriages, baggage from every prior relationship that it took you to finally hook up with each other in this cosmic rolling ball we call earth hurtling through space at who knows how many millions of miles per hour, a pierced nose, tattoos, painted toenails, great boobs, and the child like hippie spirit that roars free within my mind and body you would have my ideal life....and oh yeah, beer, lots and lots of beer!

Love, Connie