A young farm girl learns the fine art of lining up a wagon tongue with a tractor’s towing hitch, dropping in a bolt, securing it with a cotter key. She learns to watch gates while the tractor chugs through, hauling the wagon to drop off hog troughs, she keeps porkers away from the gate and escaping. She learns to wear a shower cap while painting her inventor-father's winter projects, a pig feeder, a gravity wagon, lest she ride to school with barn-red paint in her hair. To scrape mud from cultivator shovels while Dad is in for noon dinner, which she had stirred the gravy for and made from scratch his favorite spice cake.
What a beautiful description of useful work, Joy.
Thank you, John. No brothers! Dad and his farmer brother both had two daughters. . .
Love this! Hard work well done. ❤️🥰❤️
Uh, no brothers. . . Thanks, Vicki!
Girl power, I say! Never underestimate us! ❤️😊❤️
A lovely family memory poem!
Thank you, Liz.
You’re welcome, Joy.
Such a strong and capable young farm girl. You have so much to be proud of. Beautiful!
Thanks, Lori. It was a great place to grow up, but I sure didn’t want to marry a farmer!
This poem captures the challenges of farm work and the satisfaction of doing it. Loved it! Thanks for sharing, Joy. 🙂
Nostalgia, but I decided I didn’t want to marry a farmer when my mother sewed up a baby pig in the back room!
Poor little piggy was in good hands. 🙂
She’d never done it before!
Now that’s a farm girl to the bone! 🐷