The curative power of sheep

Handsome Husband and I had planned a romantic escape to a picturesque country inn in Stockton, NJ last week.  The Woolverton Inn was built in Colonial times and is absolutely delightful as you can see in this photo:

Our room was in this charming little cottage (the one on the right):

It even had a jacuzzi:

However, two factors interfered with our romance:

1) It poured rain almost the entire time we were there, which could still have worked (a jacuzzi and a four-poster bed!). However,

2) I had a terrible sinus infection so my mood was about as far from romantic as it could get.

But there was this lovely window seat where I could curl up and read:

I didn’t have to feel guilty that I wasn’t doing the laundry or walking the dogs or taking care of the thousand other things one needs to do when one is at home.  And in the little field right outside the window were…


Maybe it’s because I grew up in the country , but I found watching the silly, fluffy creatures wandering around their pasture incredibly relaxing.  I could gaze at them for long stretches of time without getting bored.  When I’d been away from the window for a while, I would go back and check to see where they had wandered in my absence.   I found all my frustration at being sick just floating away.

In fact, by the last day of our stay, I felt well enough to take a stroll along the tow path and enjoy the beauty of the Delaware River (when the rain stopped for awhile).

Some people might give the credit to antibiotics, but I firmly believe the sheep cured me.


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