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strains family farm

Strains family farm

“- and we’ll hit the Cowboy Musuem.” Silence. I guess she’s come to expect such nonsense from me. Either that, or she’s just given up. Whichever, it makes me laugh to think about it. We have fun.

Now, if you’re not from these parts, you may not know much about Granby, CT. Although there are some great trails to hike at McLean Game Refuge (CTMQ hikes here and a decent brewpub (CTMQ visit to The Cambridge Brewhouse here, plus a few other museums, the beautiful Enders Falls and even a winery (CTMQ Visit here), Granby ain’t exactly a place to which a family of four goes on adventures. Okay, you all should be sure to check out the coolest tree in the state at least.
At this point, it’s important to point out that this gentleman, Bill Strain, speaks with a decided western/southern accent. I’d noted it when I called earlier to double check on open hours and had mentioned it to Hoang, but now we were in the presence of the real deal! An honest-to-goodness cowboy! Having grown up in Vietnam/New Britain and outside of Philadelphia respectively, Hoang and I had never really met any cowboys. His lilting drawl soothed any anxiety we may have had about visiting such a random little museum that we had no interest in beyond its being a museum.

The woman I mentioned in the beginning of this report was still sitting on the same uncomfortable stool when we went back over to the stables. She hopped off and was great with Damian, showing him the horses and allowing him to pet one’s nose. It was pretty cool.
I do wish we had more relevant questions for Mr. Strain. I want to make it clear that he was very friendly and more than willing to answer any questions we had. Unfortunately, we didn’t really have too many, as we don’t know horses. I’ve mentioned before on random pages on this site about my experience with “horse girls.” They are cRaZy. They LOVE horses. For the heck of it, I looked one I knew up on Facebook recently and noticed that she, and all her friends that were visible, had horse portraits as their profile pictures. Just… Weird.
“So, where are you from originally” I asked, eager to hear tales of howling coyotes, of breaking wild mustangs and of eating cold beans from a can.
The header of that page calls it a Cowboy Museum, but Mr. Strain said he thinks of it more as a Horse Museum. Pshaw. I told him to stick with “Cowboy Museum,” as it’s just much more interesting and as a real western cowboy, he should be proud of his heritage.
I should note that there are no signs for the museum, but it’s clearly denoted as such on the Strain Farm website. The site’s description is scant, only offering the following: “We have a horse/cowboy museum with over 300 items including old and unusual bits, spurs, all original antique saddles, and related equipment. We are always looking for additional items so please call if you might have a treasure in your attic or barn.”

After a few minutes of this, Damian just said, “Home!” which at that point I couldn’t disagree with. So we bid the Strains goodbye (sorry, I don’t know the cowboy version of “goodbye”) and we hit the dusty trail.

220. Strain Family Horse Farm Cowboy Museum Neigh! A Cowboy Museum in Connecticut?! Yee Haw! Granby (Google Maps location) September 25, 2011 I really, really wish I could remember how I