Lately, I find myself having the same dream:
I own a cattle farm. Where I work, live, eat and sleep.
I get up in the morning and say hello to my cattle. I feed them. Talk to them. I massage them.
I then go for a walk in my field and visit my livestock and similarly feed, talk to and massage them.
My wife and children help out. They all look like an animal on our farm.
But I don’t mind.
When I wake up, I can’t help but to smile.
I smile, because I’m not much of a fan of nature, nor have any interest in cattle.
In fact, I don’t quite care for the taste neither, nor do I consume the milk.
So, it strikes me as strange that I would have a cattle farm.
Dreams are funny like that.