Farm Life
A kid on the farm with only her imagination as playmate gets up early on summer mornings, pokes her head out bedroom windows, checks to see if she’s beaten the cows. Nope! Silver’s leading the pack, clang, clang goes her bell. Daisy lost her bell last week so Dad said that’s that.
Silver gets to be leader. She’s a bossy old thing anyway. My cow.
Dang! Stupid window won’t stay up, hits my head again.
Long arms give life to old plaid shirt, beat-up shorts give life to legs. Tennis shoes with toes sticking out give life to feet ready for today.
Loneliness? Never heard of it. It’s only a spelling word unless you dress it up and let it scare you.
Bump downstairs. Mom’s frying eggs. Gram’s at the barn.
Dad left early this morning. Got a new job in town. Digging ditches. No money on the farm. Gram won’t part with the milkers but says the Herefords can go.
Out the kitchen door, turn left towards the barn. Race into the sun. Like the cows, the sun beat me up again. Alarm clock in my head overslept, dreaming puff dreams always the same. Dang old bull chases me. I fly to the haymow where it’s safe until he sprouts wings, joins me.
Squirt, squirt Gram fills the tall milk pails. Watch out! Fuzzy got milk in her eye. Open your mouth wider like Old Tom does. That’s better.
Milk Silver. Do I have to? Can’t I just watch you? Can’t I just watch you and maybe that way I’ll learn the right way to do it?
Not even seven o’clock and she’s already mad at me. I don’t know why I like getting up early. I don’t know why I bother getting up at all. I wonder how long it would take to die if I never got up again. Just stayed in my bed and waited.
