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Falling in Love with Farmville®
By Tracee
“I can’t go with you this weekend,” I said in all seriousness. “I have to water my crops.”
My heart filled with anxiety at the thought of leaving my farm unattended for even a few days. No, I’m not a Midwest corn farmer. I’m a middle aged, suburbanite who, like millions of others, fell in love with Farmville® on Facebook.
I was sucked into virtual farming by a simple post on my wall, “This chocolate cow needs a home.” How could I resist those big brown eyes? I adopted the dang cow, planted a few rows of corn and bought myself a darling little farmhouse. (Something I had always dream of being able to do!) Before I knew it, I was having heart palpitations at the thought of getting too far away from my computer with its window into my virtual farm.
There is something about nurturing the growing crops and the whole process of planting/harvesting/selling that is extremely fulfilling, even if it is in cyberspace.
Visiting your friends’ farms, on the pretense of watering and fertilizing their crops, is really just a chance to do recon; adding a sense of competition to an otherwise solitary pastime.
“Where did she get a spotted puppy? I want a spotted puppy!” I whine to myself as my flesh and blood Chihuahua stares up at me from his bed under my desk. I notice another friend’s farm has a slap-hazard layout compared to my well-thought-out, white picket fenced acres. This gives me a sense of self-satisfaction that is hard pressed to find in the real world.
Walking away and waiting for my crops to grow was a lesson in patience that I failed. Instead of stepping away from my computer and going about my life (those pesky kids need their lunches made!) I started new farms as a way to get my farming fix. I started new farms in BarnBuddy, Country Life, and FarmTown allowing me an almost constant opportunity to harvest, sell, milk and plant! I felt so needed, so necessary to the survival of entire worlds – or at least a few acres of entire worlds, anyway.
It was at this point that my six year-old pointed out that the water in our fishbowl was so green that he couldn’t even see Nemo or Dori. After a quick toilet-side funeral I made a vow to limit myself to farming only an hour or two a day. But which farms to neglect? Country Life, with its milking and milling? BarnBuddy, with its opportunity to steal my neighbors’ crops? Or my first love, Farmville? When it came down to it, the choice was easy. I had spent countless hours lovingly nurturing my happy plot of land in Farmville. I had taken it from a few squares of unplowed land and turned it into a thriving mega-farm, complete with reindeer and baby elephants. Falling in love with Farmville was easy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my cranberries.