The simple life is not wading through bullshit.

We were up North for the weekend (my cousin’s bat mitzvah), so we stopped off at Kibbutz Lavi, where my brother is working as a cowboy.

Kibbutz life seems at first like ‘the simple life’ – but if you think farm life is like that, you don’t wake up between 5 and 6 (or earlier) to start your day of outdoor labor with lifestock. I am waaay too lazy for that kind of thing. Call me a ‘city girl’ or something in between.

The two things I gathered the most from my morning tour of my brother’s short kibbutz career were these: early breakfast and early bulls. Here’s proof:

Cucumbers, cucumbers – and even more cucumbers.
Some people do their eggs different ways; we do our cucumbers in different ways.

Mountains, cows, the smell of cows… That’s a kibbutz morning.

That’s the guilty cow look. Or maybe it’s out fault that we interrupted some a.m. bull-erotica.

What? What? It’s too early for that bull-shit.






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