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.
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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! 🐷