I would pack up my family, move to a (recently deserted by loving family member with all bits and bobs in working order) farm.  As in, lots of pasture land and a hay field, cows, goats, chickens that roost in a tree, and lay eggs in Easter basket lined hen house.

There were two sheep, a ewe, and a new baby.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Too Big To Fail.”

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