Riverside

Drove up to the Daly Mansion to borrow a bunch of tablecloths for my show next week. The Studio Tour starts tomorrow so I thought I'd love to take a break and pop up to the Mansion. When I drove up to the north porch, this scene showed itself and I said, "Well, this picture isn't going to Blip itself, so take it already." Only had my trusty phone...drat.
Every time I go to Riverside, the real name of the Daly Mansion, I have a private giggle when I see those sleek Angus grazing in the lower meadow next to the large pond. I harken back to the days long ago when as a little girl, I would spend a couple of weeks each summer with my friend, Julie, in the valley. We'd hop our bikes and ride clear out of little Hamilton up to the Riverside Stock Farm...sneak under the barbed wire fence past the yaks that were kept there (very exotic creatures) and swim in the pond. Then we'd snake through the tall grass meadow and dare each other to touch the yaks. We'd dash up to the stoic animals and slap their butts and run, screaming with laughter, down the hill to our bikes and peddle our soggy selves home where we'd collapse in a little girl giggly heap. I smile at that memory as I type...white hair replacing those long dark braids that whipped my back as we escaped the cud-chewing yaks.