I'm about 1/3 of the way through the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. My impressionable mind has now decided that I want to grow asparagus, even though I don't particularly love it (it's okay). I ought to learn to love it, because I love the idea of asparagus ferns poking their way up through the soil heralding the first edible of spring.
I also want to experiment with cheese making.
(And I'd like to have more chickens and turkeys, and maybe milk goats (drat my milk issues))
My dream home is turning more and more into a farm. My Mister says we were born in the wrong century. Unfortunately, had I been born in an earlier century, I'd have been condemned to an insane asylum or at least a life confined to my home because of the big strawberry hemangioma that I was born with on my forehead. I'll take this century (and plastic surgery and indoor plumbing). I'd still like the farm.