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Down on the Farm Ch. 01

By: Rabbitrunner91



College is a big drain on the finances, so finding work was an absolute necessity. I'd transferred to this particular college because my folks were no longer paying my way. Several student loans, one scholarship, and a lot of luck had been required to gain admission. The bulk of costs were covered but my bank balance failed to meet the daily needs. Things like laundry, gasoline, dates (when I had any), clothes, and etc were not covered. I required work. 

The student employment office was the first stop immediately after registration. Transfer students, along with incoming freshmen get slim pickings because the 'cream' jobs are snatched up by returning students. Entering the office, I stood in line behind 45 other 'would be' job seekers. I'd snagged a list of potential positions from a table at the entrance and was reading through it. Behind the counter and hanging crookedly on the wall, a blackboard with an identical list was showing the number of current openings. Six staff were assisting and the line progressively grew shorter. Understandably the numbers written in chalk, on the board were decreasing as students made their selection and signed up from the dwindling supply.

Thirty five minutes later I stood in front of the counter talking to a large woman who showed signs of fatigue, her friendly demeanor had grown thin. "Yeah, whada ya want?" she quipped.

I'd been observing the routine, so the list of currently open slots for custodian, library assistant, and yard work, each with 4 to 5 hours per week, would not put any jingling change in my pockets. 

"Is this all you have?" I asked.

"All of the 'on campus' jobs. There's another list for openings in the community. We can't guarantee nothin' 'cause they choose who they want. Do you wanna see it?"

"Yeah, let me see what is on it." 

She rummaged under a pile of tottering folders and emerged with a typed list in her chubby hands. I browsed the columns. Yard work for college staff, cleaning for elderly, and repairs to homes in the neighborhood. Not much for long term employment, which I wanted. Towards the bottom I located a single entry; a local farmer needed help with chores and cleaning out the barn. Sounded like pitching manure, however this was ongoing work. I applied. The woman would forward the paperwork to the folks, letting me know in a couple days. I returned to my room and promptly forgot all about it.

Returning from class, the next day, I pulled a note from my mailbox. This guy was interested in meeting me for an interview. Using the lobby phone, the numbers were punched in and I gave him a call. I couldn't tell much from his voice, but he appeared excited someone was interested in the job. We quickly arranged a meeting for later that afternoon and he gave directions to his place. 

My parents taught us kids to face any task with honor, giving the best we had. I recall dad telling me, "There's no dishonor in digging a ditch, its just hard work." Living in the 'burbs' gave rise to earning spending money by raking fall leaves, summer marathons where I'd mow twenty lawns in a day, planting spring flowers, and shoveling snow after a 9 inch blizzard. Elderly neighbors were a joy, as I remember steaming cups of hot chocolate after clearing snow from their walks or icy glasses of lemonade on a hot august afternoon after putting the lawnmower in the garage. Mrs. Jacobson, a widow, three blocks down the street could hold my fascination while telling tales as a little girl on the farm. She would regal me with stories when she would churn the butter or running barefoot to the creek for a summer dip along with her cousins.

Mom and Dad kept us busy at home too. As a youngster, I never liked washing dishes, but looking back on those years, my conversations with mom during those times opened windows to her insights on raising a family of 4 growing boys. Dad taught us the difference between a left and right handed hammer, why not to use a screwdriver in opening a can of paint, and when to use an adjustable end wrench, instead of a socket or pair of pliers. Accomplishments received praise, mistakes used as a learning tool, disobedience merited swift punishment.

The next day, I hopped in my beat-up car and took the 5 mile trip out to this farm. I arrived and was met by a man coming from the barn. He was slender but strong and walked with a limp. His weathered face and work swollen hands were common among the farming community. Greeting me, he introduced himself as Howard. "Everyone calls be 'Bud' though. Are you the college student looking for work?"

"Yup, that's me. Mark's my name." 

"Have you ever worked on a farm?"

"No, I haven't. But I'm not afraid of hard work, either."

As we talked, he was sizing me up and his questions were probes into my character. I gathered he accepted me at face value. Descriptions about the kind of work were voiced and most of the duties would be to 'muck out' the barn and keep the milking equipment sterilized. The herd of dairy cows was his main source of income and unannounced visits from the milk inspectors kept him on his toes. Cleanliness was imperative. Added to these tasks included general work around the farm; repairing fence, painting, and help with his crops. I quickly liked him and he took a shine to me.

"You're hired." He said. "Let me show you around the place. He offered me a pair of 'slip on' overshoes, which I gladly accepted and we traipsed across the barn lot between the milk cows. He called each one by name, occasionally stooped to check the udder of one or two. We stopped at the silo and he gave instructions on how he guestimated the amount to feed the herd each day. Reaching the barn, he showed the springing heifers which were about to drop their calves and three day old calves. One was a young bull which he planned to raise to put meat on their table, and the other two were heifers. Looking at them I could not tell much difference between the two, but he had already sized them up and one was slated to enter his herd and the other would be sold at the sale barn in a couple weeks.

The milking barn was our next stop. My experience was 'nil' and what I saw fascinated me. This was the spot that required daily cleaning and sterilizing equipment. The bulk tank was huge and nearly full. He flipped a lever, stirring the contents, then dipped a tin cup in and offered me a drink. "Wow, this is delicious."

"The butter fat content is higher than what is purchased in stores. My cows produce close to 4.5% and commercial whole milk contains 3.5%. It's the fat content that makes money and I've been able to maintain a high average, that difference keeps me in the business."

"Come on; let me introduce you to the rest of the family." He led me up to the house where we kicked off our boots. His wife, Edith, was in the kitchen. She had a pleasing personality, and wiped her hands on her apron before taking my hand. A quick holler into the back of the house brought their three girls; who were probably a handful. Becky was 12 slim with brown hair, Samantha 14 had reddish hair and a bit shorter than the others, and Patricia (Trish) 16 had dark blond hair and dressed in coveralls, flannel shirt and work boots. I said 'Hi' and Becky and Sam giggled. Trish extended her hand which I politely shook. 

Bud and I sat at the kitchen table, Edith joined. The girls busied themselves with other responsibilities; however they never strayed far. I withdrew a paper from my pocked with my class schedule and passed it across to Bud. He hoped I could help every afternoon and on the weekends. The unusual class schedule prevented this. The weekends were no problem; it was my lab classes on Tuesday and Thursday which precluded working till after 4 pm. In dairying the farmer is tied to the business. He doesn't miss a milking time, ever. Regardless of sickness or injury, he MUST always milk the cows; vacations were never taken. Should things be worked out, Bud wanted me to know the cows, his routine, and rules. Perhaps he and the family could take a break. "Can you start working today?" he asked.

"I didn't come dressed to work, but my time is free." I ventured.

"There is a pair of coveralls on the porch, I've got an extra shirt lying around here some where, and I know we can find a jacket for you. Trish?"

"Yeah, Dad?" she spoke coming around the corner.

"Once Mark gets changed, take him and show him how to throw down the silage, drop down the grain, and feed three bales to the springers. I noticed that Amy was not among the herd this afternoon. If you can't find her, take ol' Ginger and ride out to the quarter pasture. See if she got through the fence and into the corn. If she has and she bloats, that will cut into production this week."

Edith handed me a shirt and I easily slipped into it. The coveralls were retrieved from the porch and I stepped into them, buttoning them up. I slipped into the overshoes and we headed out the door. 

"Have you worked on a farm before?" Trish asked.

"No, I've heard stories from a neighbor about when she was a small girl. Someone will have to show me what to do around here."

"Come on," she said. "We'll get the silage down first."

We walked through a shed and out into the holding pen, through the swing gate, and up the silo. I followed and slid through the 19th door. We stood atop the silage, cut from the past year. There were two silage forks, Trish grabbed one and I took the other. These tools had fifteen tines about an inch and a half apart.

"There are 73 milk cows and we give each, two forks of silage." She showed me the amount then tossed it down the shoot. I joined in and together we counted 146 scoops. "As the level of silage drops over the next few weeks, we will have to open a lower door along the side." She explained.

Moving down the ladder, we headed towards the milking parlor. Here she showed me the grain bin, up in the ceiling. We scooped the grain into the hopper till it was full. She explained this was enough feed to carry through a day and a half. Next the barn, she grabbed three hay bales, tossed them like a pro, popped the twine and pitched the hay into the roughage rack for the springing heifers below. They attacked it with relish.

With ease, she jumped from the mow, to the floor below and scampered off to inspect the herd, looking for Amy. I descended the wood ladder and caught up within a couple minutes. She had straddled the fence and was looking over the cows. I joined her and she explained, "Amy has a white blaze down her nose which turns to the right. Also she has what looks like an exploding star on her left hip."

That made as much sense to me as saying each cow had polka dots. They all looked the same to me. "She's not here," Trish said. "Let's get Ginger."

Dropping lightly to the ground, she is takes off at a run to the other side of the barn. Giving a shrill whistle, I spy their horse trot down the lane towards us. In a minute she lopes up to us and Trish grabs the halter, leading her into the barn.

"Do you know how to put on a saddle?" she asks me.

"I think so. Went to a camp my last year in high school and we went riding every day. Had to saddle and care for the horses."

"Let's see you do it. There's the saddle and there's the bridle."

I found the hand brush giving Ginger a quick once-over. The blanket was beside the saddle and I snatched it, shaking the dust out before positioning it on her back. Next the saddle. I tossed the stirrups and cinch over the horn, picked up the saddle and placed it on Ginger's back. Straightening it, I flipped the cinch and right stirrup off the horn, reached under for the cinch, bringing it up on the left side. The strap was quickly brought down, through the metal ring, and back through the top ring. At this point I lifted the strap to remove all the slack. Then giving a mighty heave, I pulled the cinch tight. I repeated this one more time to ensure adequate tightness. The strap was looped around the front, up behind the top ring, through the ring, and down inside the loop. The stirrup is dropped into place and I turn to face Trish.

"Not bad," she says. "But Ginger's not tied. You should have put the bridle on first."

"Oops." I said. I grabbed Ginger's halter and then put the bridle on, over it. The bit slid between the horse's teeth, as the strap looped back over her ears and the reigns draped back to the horn. She was led back outside where I waited for instructions.

Trish grabbed the horn, stepped into the stirrup and smoothly was in the saddle. "Up behind me." She said. It took a minute but soon I was seated at the rear. "Hang on to me." She instructed. I put my hands around her waist and held on as we took off at a fast trot down the lane. Her hair was blowing back in my face and tickling my nose. After a few seconds I placed my face over her left shoulder.

"Amy will likely be over in that corner of the pasture." She pointed and directed Ginger's head in that direction. Five minutes later we spy Amy. She is still in the pasture but seems caught up in the underbrush. Riding up, I dismount and clear out several branches, opening a break for Amy to get out. Once free, she walks toward the barn.

"Dad usually cleans out this brush once a year. Looks like it hasn't been done yet. Before we head back to the house, let's check the fencing along the corn. Need to make sure no problems are along the row.

I hop aboard Ginger again and we slowly walk along the fence. I dismount a couple times to check the wire is fastened to the post before remounting Ginger, behind Trish. In twenty minutes we arrive back at the barn. Trish leads Ginger into the barn, "I'll strip and brush Ginger down. You go help Dad, he's about half way through the milking. Let him know the brush needs cut back."

I find Bud and explain what we had found. Thanking me he gave instructions on what to do next. Once each cow had been milked, we gather the machines and he shows how to wash, rinse, and sterilize everything. Mentally I take notes on what procedures he used, the order of things, and amounts of soap. This is so completely new, it is evident additional instructions will be required.

Sensing my uncertainty, he turns toward me. "Think you can do this on your own tomorrow evening? I wanted to take the family into town for a night out." Seeing the shocked look on my face he laughed. "It's a lot to remember, I know. I'm messing with you. You'll do fine and before long all of this will be second nature to you."

"Bud, I've never worked on a farm before. To be honest, I'm lost. This is all new to me."

He laughed out loud. "I didn't hire you for what you knew. You were hired because I figured you would work hard. If you apply yourself, you will learn. Give yourself time. It'll come."

"Does Trish help you every evening?"

He shook his head. "The girls rotate. Tomorrow I think its Sam, then Becky. That way it gives them a break. Edith knows the routine too. This is a family business; everyone is expected to pull their weight."

My head is swimming from all this and I share as much with Bud.

"Give it time; you'll get the hang of it."

During the first few weeks, I learned and helped as best I could. As the months progressed I came to know the name of each cow, their temperaments, how to identify them, and every step in milking. I reported for work daily, would meet with Bud to discuss instructions and what he wanted me to do. Something was always changing. For example he might change the type of feed to be used. The grain mix may have different minerals added; the roughage could be changed from silage to hay. Maybe a particular cow developed mastitis, so special attention and medication would be given. These talks with Bud would last maybe half an hour. Occasionally he'd gone to town so I'd meet and talk with Edith. I came to enjoy farm life.

The Christmas holidays came and went. I traveled home to 'fight' with my brothers, like most good siblings. Being the oldest gave me the advantage, until all three would gang up against me.

The second semester started mid January and I returned to working for Bud. By this time I did understand the work. Bud was right about that. This was a family operation, Bud supplied the brains and Edith provided the heart. Trish was a hard worker and she took after her mom. The two of them were a lot a like. Sam (Samantha) liked farm work, she was a tomboy and took after her dad. However, she also had an interest in drama and the stage. Becky was the smart one. Even though history gave her problems, she was acing her science and math. She would be going to college. 

Imperceptibly, my relationship changed with Bud and the family. The first few months, I was a 'hired hand'. But slowly I became accepted as a member of the family. I can't say for certain when this change took place, as I look back, probably it was when Trish asked me to stay for supper. Normally at the end of a work day, I would head back to the dorm and catch the tail end of the chow line. One evening in January, Trish and I were finishing up with sterilizing the equipment in the milk house. I was getting into my car when she asked, "Why don't you stay for supper."

I frowned. "Isn't that something your dad or mom would have to ask?" I questioned.

"Wait here a minute, I'll be right back."

True to her word she returned in a flash and said her mom agreed, I could stay and eat with them, if I wanted. "Can you stay, please?" she asked again.

I had nothing planned for that evening and all my studying was caught up. So I agreed.

From that point on, it was a regular request. Even this changed, by the end of February they didn't ask, it was assumed. The only times I ate supper at the school cafeteria was when the family were away from home.

My time working gave me opportunity to know the family well. The girls would always pester me. Becky and Sam would show me projects they were doing for school. A couple times they cornered me into a tickling match, which I always lost, of course. Trish asked about college life and my activities there. She was more reserved than the younger two but was never far away. 

The evening meal was always enjoyable. Bud, Edith and the girls would talk about the days events and plans for the next day. If I didn't need to return to the dorm right away I sometimes helped Edith wash the dishes. She loved to talk about Bud and the girls. I shared about school and my family back home. The girls would be doing homework at the table listening to us talk. After the dishes were put away, they could pester me into helping them study. Becky would need help with history, Sam had trouble with science, and Trish couldn't grasp algebra. 

One evening as I helped with their homework, Becky asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, I've never had the time. Too busy farming." I replied. Then seeing all three looking at me, I add, "But I do know three cute ones I might be interested in." Becky and Sam giggled while Trish smiled. These were good times.

With Spring came field work and planting crops. "You ever driven a tractor?" Bud asked one day.

"Only around here. Whenever you've asked me."

"Think you can work the fields?"

"Sure, I guess." I hesitated. "You'll have to show me how." I volunteered.

"That 85 acres over there," He said, pointing, "Needs plowed. That's where I'll plant the corn this year. Can you stick around during your 'spring break'? You'll learn some new stuff, besides caring for the dairy herd."

"I'm game for it. Like I said, you're going to have to show me."

"No problem. It's really pretty easy. Just keep your eyes sighted in a straight line and watch the equipment."

That day he and I adjusted the wheel settings on the tractor, pulled the plow out from the machine shed, and greased everything well. He explained to me the differences in plows. He had a '4 bottom' plow and the moldboards were 14 inches apart. The topsoil was deep in these parts, 8 inches and he liked to plow that depth. Right now the ground was too wet to till, but he figured, if the rains hold off, like the forecast said, next week the soil would be about right. One end of the field is higher ground and drains well, so he took me out and we put that plow into the ground. Bud showed me how to pick a distant point across the field and aim the tractor for that spot. He taught me about the difference between back furrows and dead furrows. How to adjust the depth, when to turn at the end of the furrow, not to turn too short, and to mind the hydraulics. 


Down on the Farm Ch. 01



It had been a long day for Janice. She was new to the job as an environmental inspector in a rural area which meant numerous checks on small businesses and local farms. Her final assessment was over at a farm based outside of a small village in Wiltshire. She set off for her destination, hoping it would be a routine assignment.

She arrived at the farm, grabbed her rucksack containing her papers, straightened her business suit up and made her way to the boot where she customised her outfit with some green wellies. She rang the bell of the farmhouse and waited for a while before ringing again, there was no answer. It was obvious that there wasn't anyone in and she would have to look for one of the workers in the barn or in the fields. As she walked across the yard, making her way towards the barn, she was a little perturbed at how quiet the place seemed. Surely there was somebody about, she had made the appointment only the day previously?

Jan walked into the barn, sure she could hear some sweeping sounds, where she would be able to ask for the owner, Mr. Staples. She followed the sounds and eventually found herself in a large room, with stacks of hay dumped in the corners and at the sides of the room, and a pen containing two pigs, but no person. She held her nose at the smell, which was nothing out of the ordinary for this environment, but she still hadn't got used to it.

Out of curiosity she approached the pigpen where she noticed that the two pigs seemed to be pacing about, circling each other as if involved in some kind of dance. Eventually one of the pigs lay down to rest, and to Jan's horror, the other mounted it and began to mate! Jan was horrified but at the same time couldn't look away. The pigs began to grunt and shriek and she couldn't believe how rough the ritual was, they were biting each other, really rutting. Just as she made the decision to turn around and leave, they must have finished. They rolled off each other and went to sleep. She felt a little naughty having watched the whole thing, it was disgusting, but she couldn't help but be transfixed by the way they went at each other. If she was honest, she felt a little excited by it. She'd just come out of a relationship where the sex was very dull and had never been sexually adventurous. Just as she turned to walk away, she heard a soft voice at the door; 

"Sorry about that my lover, but it's mating season. I encourage 'em by leaving 'em alone."

Janice jumped suddenly, and caught sight of a burly man who must have been in at least his fifties. She hadn't heard anyone approach the room.

"Er, no problem, sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you Mr. Staples?"

"Yep, I'm Jim Staples. Pleased to meet you," he approached and offered his big hand to Janice, which she took, and inwardly gasped at his firm, warm handshake.

"I'm Janice Webb, we spoke yest..."

"Ah yes. Hello Janice. May I say you're a fair young maiden." Janice was a bit flustered by this, and shyly shrugged away his compliment. She was, it has to be said, very attractive. A petite young woman in her early twenties with a lovely complexion, and downy brown hair, she looked a sight, almost a foot smaller standing next to a barrel-chested, tanned but grey man in a crumpled checked work shirt, he had a bit of a beergut and you could see thick wiry grey chest hairs poking out of the central lines of the shirt where it was buttoned up.

"I'm here to just check a couple of things, procedures, and er...just a couple of certificates, nothing major so don't worry." Something was making her uncomfortable. She didn't feel threatened at all...which was part of it. Being alone in a remote barn with this man could be quite dodgy, but she felt at ease with this man, safe. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He sensed it.

"I noticed you were watching the pigs. Did you like it?"

"I...er...," she didn't know what to say. As she stuttered a response, he ran his hand over her hair. She felt his firm hand tousling her curls and melted, gasping slightly. He drew her closer to him with his other hand, hoping he wasn't going to scare her off by moving too quickly.

"You're a pretty young thing Janice. What are you doing in a place like this with an old man like me?" he whispered in her ear, before kissing it, then as she pressed herself against his body, he turned her head and kissed her slowly and deeply. They sunk into each other, he felt her soft, silky tongue against his own, callous and meaty. He ran his hands under the back of her jacket and over her blouse, feeling the outline of her bra strap, caressing her shoulders and eventually coming round to the front, running lightly over her chest and down to her waist, meanwhile she longingly leaned into him, slightly alarmed at her own behaviour but out of control with passion. She loved tugging at his rough work clothes, although it was a job to concentrate on anything as Jim was such a good kisser, so powerful, yet yielding.

She took off her jacket and went back to him, he straightened up, her chest pressing into his belly, she opened up his shirt, tugging at the buttons to free his bronzed skin, matted with grey curly hairs. She ran her fingers through it, over his belly, up over his chest, while he threw his shirt down over by the hay. She sucked at his hard nipples, moving down, until she reached his belt buckle, holding up his heavy jeans. She fumbled around looking to unzip him but there was no opening, so he undid his belt while she gazed at him. Yanking his trousers down, she felt his erection pointing sideways against his pants, and sucked through them, licking the outline of his hard, thick cock through the material, and rubbing it. She finally freed his cock by pulling his pants down, his cock sprang out, slapping her in the cheek.

"Not bad for an old man eh Jan? Get this in you." She was surprised by how hard, thick and upright his cock stood, but advanced to the tip, licking the purple head as he pulled his loose skin back. He let out a low groan as she began to love him with her mouth, slowly but surely rocking back and forth on his cock. It was a truly dirty picture, a woman squatting down, taking the cock of a man comfortably old enough to be her father all the way in her mouth. It was definitely the biggest penis she'd ever experienced but was so turned on by now that she found a way to bury her mouth into his wiry pubes at the base of his cock. All the time she was almost unconsciously reaching down and rubbing herself through her panties. His cock smelt and tasted musky, she revelled in it as he slowly pushed his cock in and out of her mouth, trying manfully to stay standing as his legs were weakened by her oral skills. She alternated between taking his cock deep into her throat and backing away, licking around his head and the pisshole, which was seeping clear, salty precum.

She reached up with her other hand to handle his sac, the two pendulous egg-sized balls were dangling back and forth, coming to rest on her chin. Her nose was buried in his pubes, she smelt pure sex. He took her head in both of his hands and began to dictate the pace of his thrusting, she felt his organ heaving and expanding even more, as he growled, she could sense that he was on the verge of coming. His balls contracted in her hands and his cock jerked, with it he yelled, and she felt a hot spurt jet right down her gullet, running down it, followed by more jets, the feeling that he was holding her and by now pulling hard on her hair, she was blowing hard, trying to press his hard cock out of her mouth. As his cock stopped twitching, he let her head go, withdrawing his penis from her, panting heavily. She rose up, kissing first his softening cock, then up to his stomach and chest, then on the mouth for another deep, passionate kiss. She wanted him to take her again.

"You'd better not be in a rush, girl" said Jim as he let her draw breath. He was already feeling the blood engorging his cock again as he kissed her.

TO BE CONTINUED:



Down on the Farm Ch. 01



After a couple rounds, he let me sit in the seat and drive. The first time I am following in his wake, but I see it's not very straight. "Keep your right front wheel in the furrow, tight against the edge and make certain you steer the tractor for that imaginary point at the other end of the field."

Third time around, I did much better, and the fourth round was straight. Bud added, "Remember when you first start your plow 'land' there is nothing to guide you. If you don't get it straight, then nothing will be straight and you'll be fighting against yourself. The first round has to be 'spot on'."

Other details I needed to watch were rocks, excess stubble catching under the coulters, and equipment failures. During the winter, the freezing and thawing brings rocks to the surface. Striking one head on, could break a plow shear. Each moldboard was spring loaded and a direct hit was supposed to allow it to trip backwards, lift out of the ground, and then reset itself. But this didn't always work.

With that, my 'plow' training was over. "Have fun next week." He said. "You know what to do, just get it done before more rain falls. One more thing, if you plan to leave the plow out for more than a couple days, grease up the moldboards, this keeps them from rusting."

The following Friday was the start of spring break, school was closed, and Bud set up a cot in the basement for me to sleep. After the cows had been milked, I fueled the tractor, greased the tractor and plow, and headed out to the field. I finished the 'land' Bud had started the other day and started my own. Must have been overly cautious, because the first furrow was straight as an arrow. Before long I settled into a rhythm and the field took soon took on a different texture. I came to understand the fascination that men have for turning the soil. There is an attraction to be able to see your work unfold behind you and to accomplish something important. For the life of me, I never could understand where the 'sea gulls' came from. They followed behind and swooped up any worms or grubs that were uncovered. Another thing I noticed, time seems to disappear. 

Someone asked me, a few years later, if it were lonely riding a tractor in the field. In one way, yes, there's no one to talk to. But in a different way, no, I was communing with nature and working the ground becomes a conversation with God.

I had lost all track of time and before I knew it, I saw Becky at the end of the field, walking along the furrow coming towards me. I stopped and she climbed aboard and sat on one of the fenders. "Mom said lunch is ready." She smiled.

For the first time I recognized the growl in my stomach. "Thanks, I'm hungry. Let's go." With that I finished plowing the furrow and we drove to the house. 

After lunch, I picked up where I'd left off and continued till it was time to do the milking. "How'd it go?" Bud asked.

"Not bad, I figure it's about 1/3 done."

"Sounds good. There's tomorrow, and you can finish up on Monday. Forecast calls for showers Monday evening. We need to get it finished before then."

"What about Sunday? Couldn't we finish up then?" I asked.

"Except for the milking, all work stops on Sunday. We go to church. You're welcome to come along. It would be nice to include you as part of the family."

Church had never been important in my life. Vaguely I remember my folks took us kids to a service but that was years ago. As there would not be any other responsibilities, I said, "I guess so." I said haltingly.

Bud noticed my hesitation. "Look Mark. You don't have to come and can stay here if you want. We'd like to include you as part of the family."

"You mean the girls?"

"No, all of us. Tell you what, if you go to church with us Sunday morning, afterwards we'll have a picnic in the woods. It will be relaxing for all of us."

"Okay, sounds like fun. Guess church has never been important to me."

"Maybe it should." He smiled.

Saturday was much the same as before. I took a liking to turning over the ground and several seagulls were so feisty, I gave them names. At 12 noon, Sam came to the field to let me know lunch was ready. The girls are taking turns. When milking time rolled around, I estimated the field is about 80% completed. I could easily finish up on Monday.

In the morning I made a fool of myself. I hadn't been to church in such a long time, I figured that I had to wear a suit. Trouble was, I didn't have one. Coming up the steps, I asked Sam what I should wear to church, since I didn't have a suit. Sam burst out laughing and when she saw the uncertainty on my face, her laughing increased. I feel like making a hasty retreat just as Trish came around the corner. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Mark thinks he has to wear a suit to church?" Sam says between laughs.

Trish, grinning from ear to ear, "Just wear something that is clean and neat, Mark. You don't need a suit." She was sensing my insecurity. "Don't worry about Sam. I'll take you where you need to go at church."

True to her word, once we arrived, she took my hand and led me through the crowd, down the hall and into the youth room. Everything is new to me and the only folks I know are Trish and Sam. Becky must be elsewhere in the building. 

When the Sunday school class was over Trish led me to the auditorium and we sat together during the service. The order of service is different from what I vaguely remember as a boy. I like the music and the preacher has an entertaining way of presenting the message. It intrigued me. At its completion, church is over and we moved towards the door. Trish introduced me to the pastor and he welcomed me and asked me to return. We walked outside and got into the car. Sam was already there and said, "You can stop holding his hand now, Trish." Trish dropped my hand like it was a hot potato. Nothing more was said until everyone was in the car and we headed to the picnic spot.

Edith had packed a large lunch which everyone helped to unpack on our arrival. This spot was a favorite for them and Bud had erected a sort of table. It was three wide planks placed over some 2 x 4's attached to a couple posts set in the dirt. Not much to look at but it served the purpose. I helped Becky gather branches for a fire and in 30 minutes we have one burning brightly. Hot dogs may not make for a king's ransom, but they certainly looked good cooking at the end of those sticks. Baked beans, potato salad, sliced melon, and a variety of soda rounded out the meal. Trish and Sam were tossing a Frisbee, Bud laid out the table setting and Becky and I cooked the dogs. 

The weather was beautiful for this early in the spring. The family came here often in the summer time and it was a place of relaxation. Early morning hours, constant pressure to ensure top, high quality production, and steady physical activity; all of this required a means to let down. This is one way that they did this. Occasionally friends or family were invited and sometimes a church group used the place. The birds were singing, a light breeze blowing, and sun shining flickered through the budding branches of the trees. This was so relaxing. I could feel the stress melting from my muscles and my mind clearing as all thoughts floated up with the smoke from the fire. I could see why they enjoyed it here.

We ate and I stuffed myself. Conversation was light and our spirits lifted, we were having fun. I'd seen Bud smile, but today he was laughing and having a rollicking good time. After eating, Becky grabbed the Frisbee and the other two joined her in catch. "Come on, Mark." Sam cajoled. "Play catch with us."

I tried to pass, but they persisted. Edith spoke, "The girls like you, Mark."

"Yeah, I know. I think I ate too much." Slowly I rise and join them, tossing the disk back and forth. 

The afternoon passes all too soon, we pack up, return to the house and back to milking the herd. 

Monday arrives the next morning and after chores, I am back on the tractor to finish up the plowing. The forecast has changed with the rain to arrive earlier than expected. Keeping the tractor running at full power, the ground changes from stubble to turned black earth. Black clouds are rising in the west as I press on. It's a race against the rain and it'll be close. To speed up the work, I had chosen to plow diagonally to the existing stubble rows and the tractor rocked from side to side. As one wheel rose to cross a row, the other wheel fell between another. The rain was approaching and I could see it drawing near and there are about 5 rounds till completion. My full attention was on the work and Trish was standing beside the tractor before I even saw her. "Lunch time." She said.

I stopped for a moment as she climbed on. "Want to finish up before the rain hits." I say pointing to the western sky.

"Let's get her done then. Mom'll hold lunch."

The tractor lurches forward again and continues the rocking from side to side. Trish is having difficulty holding to the fender and I fear she could be tossed off. "Sit here." I say, scooting back in the seat and open my knees. She slips to the front of the seat with my arms on either side. I put one arm around her waist to give some support. 

"Comfy?" I asked.

"For now." she answers. She places her hands on my legs for added support as the tractor rocks back and forth. I give my attention to the plowing; I feel her slip and tighten my hold.

It's a race against the weather. As the ground is turning in even rows, I watch the rain clouds march across the landscape. The seagulls have departed. I must be the dumb one, I think to myself. A 'round' and a half remains and I don't figure we'll get it done. "We're going to get wet." I yell in Trish's ear.

Lightning flashes across the sky, and now I become scared. The tractor is the highest point around and Trish and I are sitting on it. Another bolt flashes, followed by the clash of thunder.

Above the roar of the tractor I yell, "I'll finish this row, then we're outa here. I don't want to get caught in that lightning."

She can only nod. A hundred feet from the end the sky opens up and the rain comes. The ground becomes wet and the tires slip. We're so close with one round remaining. Raising the plow, I change to a higher gear and we race toward the house. The wind had picked up, blowing the rain in sheets. Trish's hair is hanging straight with rivulets of water running down, onto her clothes, on to mine. 

The rain is cold, very cold and as it increases to a downpour, both of us are soaked to the skin. A streak of lightning with an immediate crack of thunder reminds me we need to get under cover, and fast. Driving up the lane I aim for the open shed, slowing only enough to ensure we stop inside. I shut off the tractor and we dismount; there is not a dry spot of clothing on either of us. Each step brings a 'squish, squish' from my shoes. By now the rain is falling so hard we cannot see the house a hundred yards off.

"Looks like we gotta wait here till it lets up." I say.

"Okay," Trish says as she stands in the doorway shivering.

There is an old overcoat hanging on a peg at the back of the shed and I fetch it from the hook. Stepping behind her, I place it over her shoulders, and then encircle her with my arms. "You're cold." I offer.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks." Though she's wet, her shivering slowly subsides.

We stand like this for about 3 or 4 minutes before I see the back edge of the rain. It will stop in a few minutes. "You ready to go in?" I ask.

She doesn't reply, so I ask again. "Think we need to be going?"

Still she doesn't answer. I look down and she has a distant stare. She is lost in some dream world.

"Earth calling Trish. Earth calling Trish. Come in please." 

She jumped, startled at being caught daydreaming.

"Where were you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Just off somewhere." Then she blushed. As I looked, she blushed again.

I let it drop. "Come on. The rain has let up."

With that we make our way to the house through a light drizzle. Inside the door we stand dripping wet. Edith hands us a couple towels. "You two will catch your death of cold. Dry off and get your clothes changed."

I headed to the basement, stripped; putting on some dry duds, then went back upstairs. Everyone else was seated at the table as Trish and I sat down.

"How much is left?" Bud asks, pointing his chin towards the field.

"One round. If the rain had held off another 15 minutes, it'd be done."

"Showers forecast for the next three days, that's about all we can do. Not bad. You got more done than I figured. Good job."

For the remainder of spring break, I helped Bud get ready to plant. He and I went over the disc, harrow, and planter. We greased, tightened, and adjusted. All was ready once the ground dried, and that depended upon the weather.

I didn't do any more field work, as school was back in session. But then things would soon change and that change would be dramatic.



Down on the Farm Ch. 02



The next morning there was little time to reflect on the actions of the night before. It was early to rise, as always, and tend to the animals. As I milked the cows and cleaned out the barn stalls, images of last night kept racing thru my mind. I could still feel Pops' hands on me, his warm breath on my tender skin. I could feel him inside me, as though he had never left. I was being sucked into a very erotic zone, thoughts and sensations covered my body. 

"If you keep milking that cow that way she's going to kick you," said my granny.

"W-w-what?" I stammered, "Oh granny, I didn't know you were out here, how are you feeling today?"

"Some days are better then most dear," she answered, "I just wanted some fresh air, I've been in that bedroom for a month of Sundays."

"Don't overdo it granny, here, let me help you back up to the house," I said.

Taking her by the arm, we walked back up to the old house. It had seemed so much bigger when I first arrived 6 years ago. 

"Let's get you back into bed, granny," I said, tucking her back in, "I need to get back out there, do you need anything before I leave?"

"Come sit next to me, Christy, I must talk to you," she said, motioning for me to have a seat.

I took a seat next to her on the bed, half nervous and half intrigued by what she wanted to tell me. 

"Christy, you're a very beautiful girl," she said, stroking my hair,"And beautiful girls always get alot of attention, just make sure you don't attract the wrong kind of attention."

"What do you mean granny?"

Granny laid there for what seemed to be an eternity just looking up at the white ceiling. She took a deep breath and looked back over at me, her eyes cold as steel. Suddenly her grip on my hair became very tight, as if she were trying to pull it from my head.

"Ouch granny, stop that," I whimpered, trying to grab her hand from my hair.

"I know you were in here last night, Christy, and I know what you and your grandfather were doing," she hissed.

"What are you talking about, granny?"

"Don't play innocent with me, I'm sick, not stupid," she said angrily.

Just then Pops walked in, as if he knew I needed to be rescued. 

"Christy, you just going to leave the cows half milked?" he asked, removing his dirty cap and sitting in a chair across the room.

"I'm sorry Pops, granny and I were just having a little girl talk," I said.

Granny suddenly sat straight up in her bed, the cold steel look still glazing her eyes. She looked at me first, then at Pops. 

"Don't you think I can smell you two in here?" she said angrily, "I know what you two did last night, I heard the noises, the breathing, the panting, then you planted your seed in this girl in our bedroom," she said, looking at Pops.

"Honey, I have no idea what you're talking about, Christy is our granddaughter, I would do no such a thing," Pops answered.

Just then granny looked at me again, her cold glare was beginning to make me nervous. How could she have heard that? Her medications usually knock her out cold. I sat there on the bed, legs crossed, feeling very uneasy about what she would say next.

"And you, you little whore, you're just like your mother," she scowled.

Suddenly Pops became white as a ghost, he was so sure all those years of fucking my mother, his daughter, had been so well hidden. 

"That's right Phil, I knew all about it, I found her diary and read it. I read where she had written all about it, every dirty detail. How she feared God because she knew she had sinned. And asking God to forgive her because she enjoyed fucking her daddy," granny said angrily. 

Pops sat there speechless. His face was a mixture of embarrassment and anger for his wife having found out and never telling him till now. 

"You are a spiteful old bitch, Mary, and the only reason I haven't put you out of your misery yet is because it is my duty to care for you," Pops said, "Ok yes I did fuck our daughter, I fucked her every chance I got but only because you had turned against me, you never wanted sex so you just stopped one day. You didn't even bother to ask me how I felt about us never having sex again."

"You will NOT blame this on me," granny snapped, "I'm a dying woman and you messed up, not me. However, there is one way that you both may redeem yourselves."

Pops and I both were very interested to find out what on Earth could pull us from this hole we had managed to dig for ourselves. 

"Are you two attracted to each other?" granny asked.

Neither of us knew how to answer this right away, we were both totally unprepared. So at that moment, we both looked at each other and I could see Pops' dick beginning to rise beneath his work pants. Seeing this made my pussy throb and almost brought me to tears wanting his dick inside me again. 

"Yes," we both answered.

"Then fuck her again, right here, right now," said granny, "If you two insist on having sex with each other you will do it where I can see it."

"Granny that's crazy," I said.

"Do it," she insisted, "No kissing, no foreplay, just bend her over the foot of my bed so I can see her face while you're doing her."

My head was swimming at this point. I was totally unprepared for this. Just 30 minutes prior I was tucking my sick old granny into bed for a nap and now she was telling me to face her as my grandfather fucks me. 

"DO IT!!!" she yelled.

Pops and I both stood up and we met at the foot of Mary's bed. We both had a look of confusion on our faces, but inside our attraction was already coming to a boiling point. I turned my back to Pops as I slid my skirt down to my ankles. 

"Leave your shirt on you whore," granny instructed. 

My fingers cold and my hands shaking, I closed my eyes as I slid my white cotton panties down to my feet. I could hear Pops behind me, unsnapping his work pants. Then the sound of his zipper, and the familiar cool breeze as his pants came to rest at his ankles. He once again placed his rough hands on my tiny hips. I could feel my nipples wake up and pucker, responding to his touch. 

"That's it you two sinners, show me what you did last night," said granny.

With my eyes still closed I felt Pops push his dick into me, only this time he did not slide it inside slow as he had done the night before. He almost crammed his thick dick into me with force, but it felt so good. I let out a loud whimper, then a slutty moan as he began fucking me. Short deep thrusts as he punched my womb. He was inside me much deeper then last time. He was fucking with a purpose this time, not only to get off inside me, but to show granny that he was still an active virile man.

"You like this, Mary?" he asked breathlessly, "You like watching me fuck our granddaughter?"

She didn't answer him, in fact she made no sounds at all. I opened my eyes to find that she had kicked off her blanket and her legs were open. She had a devilish grin upon her lips and her eyes were no longer cold as steel. Just a concentrated stare. 

Pops began fucking me harder. I felt his hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward. 

"Put your head on the bed, Christy," he instructed.

I obeyed his order and placed my upper body on the quilt that covered granny's bed. My ass was high in the air and I could feel Pops' rough hand sliding over my left ass cheek. Then a loud "SMACK" echoed thru the small bedroom and a hot sting covered my ass. Pops was spanking me while he fucked me. I could hear groans coming from him that I had not heard last night. He was like an animal out of control. 

Just then I felt the bed moving. It was granny sliding down to me, her legs still spread wide open . What the fuck was she doing now? 

"Oh God that's it Mary," Pops whispered, "Thats the woman I remember marrying."

Suddenly granny grabbed my hair again, tighter then before and pulled my head up. My mouth was only 2-3 inches from her pussy. Oh my God, did she want what I thought she wanted???

"Do it Mary, make the whore lick your pussy just like we used to make her mother do," hissed Pops. 

Oh fuck, these two were in this together. I thought it was a bit odd that Pops had come into the bedroom just as granny was accusing me of being a whore. Now I knew why, they had planned this together. 

"Lick me you little whore," granny said, pushing my mouth into her old pussy. 

Before I could say no or anything my lips were planted inside her pussy lips. Her grip on my hair was so tight my head was beginning to throb. I closed my eyes again and tried to think of some place other then where I was at that moment. 

Pops began fucking me so hard I could feel his balls slapping me, making a noise throughout the bedroom. 

"Oh God yesssss," he hissed, "Suck your granny's clit while grandpa fucks your nasty pussy, Christy."

I could feel granny's hips moving, thrusting up to ride my face. Where in the hell did two people in their 70's learn this? They were doing things straight out of a porn movie. 

"Mmmm, your mouth feels just like your mother's used to Christy," moaned granny, "She used to lick my pussy so good for me, remember that Phil?"

"Hell yes I remember that honey," he answered between grunts. 

I began exploring granny's pussy thoroughly, dipping my hot tongue in and out of her wet hole. Then sliding up to her clit, flicking it quickly. She began to use my hair to move my head around. Thus smearing her pussy juices all over my mouth. She smelled like vanilla, from her favorite body lotion. Everytime I would dip my tongue inside her hole, my nose would rub her clit and she would let out this enormous moan. 

Then Pops suddenly stopped, and quickly slid from my raw pussy. 

"I want this sweet lookin ass," he moaned, slapping my ass cheek again. 

I tried to say no but granny's grip on my hair would not give me an inch. I could feel my legs beginning to shake and my heart was pounding like a drum. I was basically powerless to stop either one of them. Minutes later I felt Pops' wet warm cock tip pressing into my puckered virgin asshole. One thrust and he was deep within me. He wasted no time, taking short jabbing thrusts into my asshole.

This really seemed to get granny off because the tight grip on my hair had returned and her hips were beginning to move quicker. 

"Granny's going to cum on your mouth, you little whore," she moaned. 

"Oh God Mary!!!" Pops yelled out, "Cum on her face, do it for me honey."

Just then granny let out a blood curdling scream and I felt a warm gush of liquid covering my lips and chin. My own grandmother had just squirted on my face. But Pops was not far behind. His thrusts became deep and quick. His grip on my hips became tighter and I could hear his breaths becoming heavier, just as they had done last night so I knew he was close to cumming too.

Granny laid back on her bed, her legs still wide open. Her cum was sticky as it began to dry on my chin and mouth. Her breathing had returned to normal and she was completely satisfied. She didn't want to have sex, she just wanted to get off. So I guess the responsibility had fallen on me to keep Pops supplied with pussy and ass. 

"Oh Oh Ohhhhhhh shit, Oh God I'm cumminggggggg," he groaned, pumping my ass faster and deeper, then slowing it down to a long deep penetrating thrust. 

Suddenly I felt the familiar warm gush inside my ass, Pops had just came. He was still gripping my hips tightly and barely sliding his dick in and out of my wet asshole now. His breathing was erratic and I heard his heart banging in his chest again. Then with no words said, he quietly slid out of me and laid down next to granny on the bed. Within minutes they were both sleeping. 

I quietly stood up and pulled my panties and skirt back up. Slow to move because my asshole hurt. I walked into the kitchen and stood at the sink trying to make sense of what had just happened. 

"That was very hot, thank you Christy," said Pops, standing at the refrigerator.

"I thought you were asleep," I whispered.

"Not yet, I wanted to come check on you," he answered.

"I'm fine, just not sure what happened in there," I said.

"I'm sorry we tricked you honey," he said, "I wasn't sure if you'd go in there on your own. Your grandmother is really a nice person, Christy, don't think otherwise of her please. She still has needs, I just can't fulfill them."

"You mean she wants sex but no dick, right?" I asked.

"Something like that," he said, getting a soda from the fridge, "Can you handle that?"

"Actually I kinda liked eating pussy, Pops," I answered, smiling. 

"Then there will be more times?" he asked.

"I hope so," I said, walking over to him and stealing his soda. 

And that's just how it was. At least 3 times a week, the three of us would meet in that small bedroom and get each other off. Sometimes granny eats my pussy. Sometimes we have a 69 while Pops fucks either my ass or pussy, sometimes both. I never would have guessed in a million years that my grandparents, 2 people in their 70's would be such freaks. 

They say everything happens for a reason. For a long time I never knew why my parents were killed in that car accident and I was sent here, but now I think I've figured it out. I was sent here to bring pleasure to my grandparents. Pleasure that they could not achieve on their own. But with my help, my mouth, my pussy and my ass ........ life is much more interesting down on the farm.



Down on the Farm Ch. 02



The next month passed quickly and it was 2 weeks before the end of school when it happened. My classes had finished for the day and arriving at work, no one was around. Bud was not to be seen and the house was empty. Usually Bud or Edith would give oral instructions or leave a note. The car was gone from the drive. This was out of character, but someone would surely show soon, so I started the chores.

The milking took almost 3 hours but still no one arrived. I continued with the other chores and finished up. Working alone took more time, but with no one around, I was concerned. Something must be wrong. Not knowing, I waited. Not having any indication when someone would show, I busied myself by scrubbing the milk house. An hour later a car, one I didn't recognize, drove in. He exited the vehicle and looked around. I came out the door, still holding a scrub broom. He walked towards me and introduced himself as Bud's brother, Peter. I explained who I was, a student, who'd been working for Bud this past year. The milking and chores were finished and I was waiting.

What Peter said next, sent fear running through me. "Bud's been in an accident. Edith asked me to check on the cows and I know absolutely nothing about them. She hoped you had proceeded with chores and wanted me to make certain."

"What happened? Is Bud going alright?"

"He is in a coma at the hospital and he's in a bad way. I was told he fell from the silo. The family's with him right now. Edith's asked me, if I saw you, to request you do all the chores for the next few days. I certainly don't know what to do"

I was concerned about Bud, and I completely understood the importance of doing the milking on time. Mentally, my class schedule flashes before me and I superimpose the milking times. It would be doable but I'd have to skip some classes. With school almost out, perhaps some Profs would cut me some slack. "Tell Edith I can help."

"Good. Thanks, I'll let 'em know."

He left and I returned to school after putting things away. Tomorrow would start early with the 3am milking. 

Next morning the alarm sounded before I wanted to get up. I dragged myself out of bed, dress and head to the farm. Suddenly it hit home. I had the full responsibility for the herd and it was almost overwhelming. I knew how to do the job, but any change in diet, schedule, or routine, could throw any of the cows off production. Moving though the motions brought to mind some of the small details Bud had once shared. The cows were standing at the gate, waiting. 

After the milking was finished, I fed from the silo, cleaned out the milking parlor, and washed down the equipment, sterilizing it well. The bulk tank was full so I hoped the milk truck would show today. I finished the chores about 9:30.

Nothing had been heard, and I considered driving to the hospital. Jumping into my car I head into town, grabbed a bite to eat and pulled into the hospital parking lot. At the welcome center I was given Bud's room number and took the elevator. Exiting, I follow the sign to Bud's wing, passing the nurses station. There is a lot of normal activity with one nurse on the phone, a couple others entering data on patient's charts, and a discussion in progress in a back corner. Moving on down the hall, I observed Edith and the girls talking to a doctor. 

Drawing closer it was apparent they'd been crying so I stood back, not interrupting. Edith saw me and motioned to me, as the doctor left. Her eyes were red, probably from tears and lack of sleep. She told me Bud was not doing well and remained in a coma; life support was attached. The family knew his condition was extremely serious and the girls were especially distraught. Becky and Sam clung to their mom; Trish sat in one of the chairs nearby, her head in her hands. I later learned hospital staff didn't believe Bud would live through the week; it was only a matter of time. 

Edith turned, "Mark thanks for doing the milking; I really appreciate it. Could you ..., would it be possible to help with all the chores? I know this may be difficult, but we need your help now."

Under the circumstances I was glad to help. "Don't worry; I'll take care of everything until Bud gets home." The look in her face told me volumes; Bud wouldn't be coming home for a long, time; maybe not ever. What will they do? I thought. What will they do?

I left the hospital and went back to the school. My classes, for the year, were almost over and two weeks still remained. I went in search of my professors. The first one was in his office and motioned for me to enter when I knocked. I quickly explained the situation and the family's request for my help. The lab classes would have to be missed and I requested some consideration. He looked at his grade book. "Mark, your grades are up and everything is looking fine. What I need is for you to finish the research paper and take the final exam. As far as class attendance, I can let that 'slide' under the circumstances. So if you can get the paper completed and take your final, you should be okay."

I thanked him and went to look for the other Prof. She was also in her office and after I explained the problem her heart went out to the family. "Don't worry about your classes. I completely understand. Plus you've been a good student this semester. I'll take your current work, average it and that'll be your final grade. No need to take the final. How does that sound?"

"Thanks. That sounds great."

"Go on." She said. "Take care of your other things."

I left her office, in search of the other Profs. They were equally understanding; however, to be fair, final exams were required. 

A lot of time would be spent at the farm, so chose to move there. It would be easier to travel back and forth for classes. The cot in the basement would suffice for now. I hadn't talked to Edith, but was certain she wouldn't mind. Living at the house I would still have time to complete class assignments. Packing everything, I moved to the farm.

No one was around, as expected and I carried my stuff downstairs. It wasn't a finished basement and the stairs descended from the back door into the middle of the floor. To the right was the laundry area, an open shower and toilet. To the left of the stairs I found a clutter of boxes, book shelves, and general items. At the bottom of the steps and towards the back was a couch, table and chair, and a lamp. The cot was to the right, at the far end of the basement. There were no dividers, only one large open area. The family did have some food storage between the cot and the laundry. A little re-arrangement would afford a modicum of privacy for the immediate time. Dragging my suitcase and boxes towards the cot, I arranged things to my satisfaction. Glancing at my watch, it was time to do chores, so I changed clothes and headed outside.

In the barn, I see the milk truck had arrived, the bulk tank was empty. It needed scrubbed and sterilized, not a difficult job, but it required attention. The milking went smoothly. Some additional time was spent checking each cow and heifers. With everything in order, I head back inside and rummage around for something to eat. I raided the refrigerator for leftovers. Supper over, I worked on the project report for school. I finished it, but my mind was not concentrating; I kept thinking about Bud and the family. Picking up the phone I dialed the hospital and asked information on Bud's condition. He had passed away earlier that day. The family was staying with friends in town and I was given a phone number. Devastation flooded over me and my mind becomes numb. I chose not to dial.

Bud was like a father to me. Edith and the girls, well, they're like a second family. What's going to happen now? Bed time comes and I sleep fitfully.

The morning came early when the alarm went off, but I'm already awake. I dressed and began the day doing the milking and regular morning chores. At 9 o'clock or so, I saw Peter, Edith and the girls had arrived. Standing back, I talked with Peter. I let him know I was available to help, not to intrude. Arrangements for the funeral were being made and would be held in a couple days. More family, friends and relatives would be arriving between now and then. I would stay out of the way but if they needed help, let me know. He thanked me and went into the house. I went to the basement and cleaned up, leaving for my one and only class for the day.

The next several days were pretty much a blur. The routine of the farm was completely upset and I attempted to maintain some continuity for the dairy operation. The funeral was held with a large crush of well-wishers in attendance. I attended. Bud was very well known within the community and the church was filled to overflowing. 

Following the services folks returned to their homes, their work and their families. Edith and the girls could only come home to a house, empty of the one they loved and had come to depend upon. My school would be over in two days, it would be necessary to discuss plans with Edith at the earliest opportunity. I would bide my time till events settled a bit, until then I did the milking and stayed out of the way.

"Mark, we need to talk." Edith said as I returned from my last class. "What are your plans for the summer?"

From her tone as she asked, I knew where she was headed with this conversation. "I'd been planning to get a construction job near home." I answered.

"Is there anyway that you could work for us through the summer?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Could you stay, working full time? The girls and I need your help 'cause we can't do it all. I have to make some decisions on whether to keep the dairy operation, sell the farm, or exactly what to do. We need your help to keep things going until I do make a decision. I cannot pay much but will let you stay in the basement and eat meals with us. Really, Mark, we desperately need your help."

Originally my plans were to return home and her request would definitely cut into my earnings. On the other hand, she and the girls would be in trouble if I didn't help. If I didn't earn enough through the summer, I wouldn't be able to finish school. So I decided on a compromise. "How about I work for one month? This should give you a chance to see what you want to do."

There was a flicker of disappointment on her face, but she understood my predicament as well. "Thanks, Mark. That will help."

As she turned to leave, another thought popped into my mind. "Edith?"

She stopped and turned to face me. "How much time do you figure you'll need to determine what to do?"

"Six months, maybe more. Why?"

"And you're not able to go that long without my help. Is that right?"

"That's right." She waited.

"If I agree to help through the summer, could you help me when school starts again this fall?"

A glimmer of hope flashed across her face. "If I can. What do you want?"

"Free room and board. And I'll stay and help as long as you need."

The expression I saw was one of happiness. "Bless you, Mark. May God bless you. Thank you."

Then she saw my face, "But that's not all you want. Is it?"

"I'd come to expect a daily briefing with Bud. Could you talk over the business decisions with me?"

"That can be arranged. AND?" She asked.

"How about some plywood and 2x4's to give me some privacy in the basement?"

She smiled, "No problem, I can do that. I'll also find you a bed to replace that old cot. Thanks, you don't know how much this means. Go ahead and take the pickup into town and get the plywood."

As I turned to leave, she spoke again. "Mark, I don't know how we can repay you for this. Thanks."

I went into town and got the plywood, hinges, and nails then spent the rest of the day hammering in the basement to make a section for a bedroom. It was not pretty, but at least it was functional. Most of the guests and well-wishers had gone and I joined Edith and the girls for supper. The girls were quiet and the time was strained. This was not surprising as they had lost their father. I tried to joke but it fell flat, they smiled, that was all. I helped with the dishes afterwards and the girls did their studying. Their school would be out later that week. I turned in for the night.

A routine was developed; Edith would help with milking each morning milking; in the afternoon, the girls would assist. Becky and Sam took the responsibility for feeding the silage to the herd and hay for the springers. Trish helped with the milking. Afterwards she and I scrubbed the parlor, then sanitized the equipment. Between those hours, I did the general farming, like repairing fences, working on the tractor and the field work. Edith and I knew the barn was nearly empty and we would need to put in the hay. Edith was a good manager and I learned a lot about the farming operation. She agreed, we should start haying next week when the girls were out of school. For the remainder of that day I got out the wagons, converting them into hay racks, greased the bailer and adjusted the tractor wheels. Then I took the hay mower to the field and cut the alfalfa. That afternoon, after the girls were home, I sent Becky with the tractor and rake to make windrows. Now we waited for it to dry. 

Monday rolled around and the weather was good. As I finished milking, Edith and the girls set the elevator up next to the mow. I finished up about 9:30 and checked the hay. Not quite dry, so we waited till noon. The plan was for Becky to drive the tractor and bailer. Trish and I would stack the bales on the rack. Sam and Edith would use the pickup to bring in the loaded racks and mow the bales. In spite of the hot weather, long sleeves and gloves were worn to protect our hands and arms from scratches or blisters.

After lunch, we were ready. Becky drove the tractor to the field, Trish and I rode the rack. I teased, saying I liked her 'Sunday clothes'. She retorted, she would 'dress like the pastor, pointing to me. Then the hard work started. Becky pulled into the field and the bails moved up the chute. Trish and I worked hard. This was the first crop of the year and the windrows were thick. Becky often had to stop as the bailer bundled the hay which had entered the machine. In a short time the rack was full. Edith was waiting, hitched to in and drove to the barn where she and Sam unload it. I helped Becky hook up the second rack and we continued. 

When riding on the open rack, we would walk like a drunken sailor. Trish had stacked a bale and was turning around when she lost her balance and fell to her knees. "Looks like the ballerina needs more practice".

She looked up at me, laughing and replied, "I can keep my balance, except when my partner steps on my toes." Then she stuck out her tongue.

The work progressed until the field was completed. We had harvested 15 racks, a good day's work. On the last load, Becky didn't unhook but drove to the yard. Edith and Sam had unloaded the previous rack and would start milking while Becky, Trish and I unloaded this last one. Becky unhooked the bailer, connected to the rack, then pulled around to the elevator. I went up into the mow and the girls would unload. I was watching below and what I saw next, I can still visualize; it was like slow motion. Becky had changed to the tractor which ran the PTO. Trish was walking to the rack, when she tripped. Her sleeve caught on the rotating shaft; she could not get free. Becky saw it at the same time and immediately clutched the tractor. The shaft quickly stopped, but not before Trish was completely wrapped around it. Bounding down the elevator, I was yelling at Becky to turn off the tractor, Turn off the tractor. I didn't know whether she heard, but she did have the sense to keep the clutch depressed. At the bottom, I reached over and turned off the ignition, disengaged the PTO and moved to Trish. I could see her face and she cried out in pain. Taking my pocket knife I cut her shirt from the shaft. The material was tough, tightly bound, and the knife seemed useless. By now, Becky was lifting and supporting Trish as I hacked at the cloth. I was frantic. Why wouldn't this knife cut? Becky slipped Trish's other arm from her shirt, relieving the tension, allowing me to slit the remaining cloth and get her free. She lay on the ground, in the dirt and I probed, looking for broken bones. Trish had stopped crying and watched as I prodded. She did have a big red welt on her arm and another around her shoulder.

"Trish, can you move your arm?"

Slowly she raised it, as I offered support. She rotated it, bent it at the elbow, extended it again, and swung in an ever increasing ark. Nothing appeared broken; she had full mobility, and no cuts. A red rash extended from her shoulder and down her arm. No doubt she would have a bad bruise later.

I lifted her up, moved to the wagon hitch and sit down with her on my lap. My mind could not fully comprehend the near calamity. Bud was recently gone, and to loose one of the girls now, especially Trish, would be too much. She wrapped her arms around me, I held her. 

Becky, watching, said, "Mark, I'm sorry, I did not mean to..."

"Becky, it is not your fault. You did the right thing. It is not your fault." Then I said to no one in particular, "It is not anyone's fault." I must have been running on adrenalin because I started shaking. At this moment I realized that Trish didn't have any shirt on, only her bra.

"Becky, run to the house and get your sister a shirt."

She went flying and would be back in a few minutes. In the meantime I held on to Trish and stroked her hair. "God Almighty, Trish. You scared me. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Do you hurt anywhere?"

"My shoulder's sore but I think I can use it."

"Do you want to go into the house?"

"No, let's get this rack unloaded."

"Sure? Cause, man, I sure don't want to loose you."

"Yeah, let's get it unloaded." 

Becky returned at a sprint with the shirt. Trish stood and dusted herself off and I helped her put it on. By now she was calming down and so was I.

"Are you going to be okay, Trish?" Becky asked.

"Yeah, start the tractor, Becky. I want to finish this load."

The rack was unloaded, but we took our time, not being in any hurry. The last bale was in the mow; we unhooked the equipment and put everything in the shed. It was dark by the time we finished. I had my arms around both Becky and Trish as we walked to the house. 

Edith was preparing supper as we walked in. Trish and Becky went back to their room. I quickly gave Edith the details and she turned white. "You're certain she's alright?"

"Trish wanted to finish the last rack and she worked like a trooper. I figure she will be pretty sore with a bad bruise, otherwise, yeah, she'll be fine."

Edith moved back to Trish's room and entered. I left and took a shower. The other girls were probably doing the same thing. I was turning the day's events over in my mind. The scare with Trish had affected me more than I thought. What if something had happened to her? What would I have done? I didn't know. Those events played over and over again like a looped video, each time brought fear to my heart.

A voice hollered down the stairs, it was Edith. "Supper is ready." 

I toweled off, got dressed, and climbed the stairs. 

Walking towards the table, Edith stopped me. "I'm changing our eating arrangements. You sit at the head of the table."

I frowned. This was Bud's chair and it had remained empty since his death. "No." I shook my head.

"You can either sit there, or go hungry. The other place where you've been sitting has been removed."

"But that's Bud's seat." I protested.

"You are the man in this family. It belongs to you now." She said.

This new seating arrangement placed me at the head of the table and Edith on one side and Trish on the other. Becky and Sam were at the other end. And so I became the man of the family, though it was by default.




Down on the Farm Ch. 02



A week later three of the springers were due to drop their calf. For several days we put them in a pen close to the barn and kept a close eye. The first two delivered their calves when anticipated. The calves were allowed to suckle for three days, then moved to an inside pen. The springers had become cows and were added to the herd. The problem involved the last springer, she didn't drop her calf. For an additional four weeks, she continued to carry. Something was wrong, so we watched and waited. She was not in stress but we had no idea of the problem.

On a Tuesday morning, Edith took Becky and Sam to town. Trish and I were greasing the disc harrow, preparing to work one of the fields. Trish noticed it first. "That springer's in trouble. She can't stand."

At the pen she had dropped to the ground, was lying on her side and in heavy pain. "If we don't do something, we'll loose the calf and her." Trish adds.

"Come, she needs our help." I lead and she follows me to the shed. Handing her the fence stretcher, I lift a coil of soft rope and we return.

Tying one end of the rope to the springer's rear feet, I loop it around one of the posts. Together we pull her around, giving additional room. "What do you plan to do?" Trish asks.

"Pull the calf out. I want you to attach the rope to her front feet, snuggly. We can pull her tight to the post." This was accomplished.

The springer was struggling and in pain. If we couldn't deliver the calf, she would soon die.

Moving behind, I reached inside, feeling around and located the fore hooves of the calf. Tugging, I turn the calf around. I then pulled the hooves till they extended 12 inches. The remainder of the rope was tied to the calf, gently but securely. I fastened the fence puller, fully extended and together Trish and I take in the slack. 

"Have you done this before?" Trish asks.

"Nope. Pull gently." I urge. The tension was taught and we waited a couple minutes. The springer groaned, pushed and we gained a couple inches. "Pull again." The process is repeated and more of the calf emerged. "We're gaining. Take it gently."

More calf emerged and the nose was in view. Trish had her hands gripping the pull rope, facing the springer and watching the calf slowly emerge. I reached my arms around her, latched on to the rope and together we kept steady pressure. "Not too fast, not too fast." I cautioned.

Turning her head to look at me, Trish commented, "This calf is huge. No wonder she is having difficulty." 

"Go in the barn and grab that burlap sack hanging by the door."

Deftly she jumped up and returned within a moment. "Wipe the calf's face and clear the nose so it can breathe." I instructed.

She wiped the mucus from the head and nose as more of it appeared. The head was out and ever so slowly we were making progress. The springer didn't appear to be in as much distress, but was still groaning as she pushed.

Once the shoulders had emerged, the calf slid out. The springer, now a cow, breathed easier. Amazingly, she had not torn. The calf was well and Trish helped her to her feet, wiping her clean. She wobbled, fell, struggled up and took her first steps. She was the largest born heifer calf I had ever seen, more than 50% heavier and a good 4 inches taller. The cow remained on the ground and feet extended, she was exhausted. I held the calf and Trish finished rubbing her down. Picking up the rope and tackle, we left them alone. I'd check back after the milking was done to make certain the afterbirth had been expelled and hopefully the cow would stand and allow the calf to nurse.

"Thanks for your help. We could have lost both the calf and the cow." I told Trish as I gave her shoulders a squeeze.

"That was good thinking. I've never seen that done before." She replied as she blushed.

"That's the first time for me too, that's for certain. It was obvious she was in trouble and the only thing I could think of was the fence stretcher. And it worked."

The two of us sat on the front porch step and talked. A lull developed in our conversation. I looked at Trish and she had that distant stare, off in her dream world. I touched her arm.

"Where are you?" I ask.

Startled, she turns and looks in my eyes. "Sorry." she said sheepishly.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Oh, nothing." but she blushed a deep crimson. 

Edith and the girls drove in. Trish jumped up and ran to the car, excitedly telling her mom what had happened. Edith was listening through the open car window as I strolled up. "I want to see this giant calf." She remarked.

All five of us walked to the pen and leaned over the fence. The calf was walking around and the cow had drawn her feet up under her, still resting. "Wow," said Becky and Sam whistled. "That is one huge calf."

"I'm glad the cow is alright. When do you figure to put her with the herd?" Edith asked.

"In a couple days. I like the size and shape of her udder. She should be a good producer. A very good addition to the herd." I answered.

We talked for a bit longer then Trish and I started milking as the others changed their clothes and returned help with the chores.



Down on the Farm Ch. 02



Every once in awhile we meet someone that seems to click with no real explanation for it.

My neighbor Sofia was like that. I had disturbed her sunbathing with my ratty little riding mower, and it made her cranky.

Then that silly wounded bird. We met over healing it, well, mostly it was me healing it. Women have soft spots for little creatures, it seems.

Guess I do too, what the heck. But that got us together and nature took it's course. I was a long ways from having been with a woman, no girlfriend at all or even on the horizon.

Sofia was completely different from any woman I had ever met. Dark skinned, like soft brown silk, hair everywhere on her body. Lots of hair.

Our union was just something that happened. She said it perfectly, "It just felt right." Then she mentioned the boyfriend.

I would have hesitated, probably not even touched her had I known about a boyfriend. I had never seen anyone, it just didn't cross my mind. She never offered information, I didn't ask.

So our lovemaking was an accident. Just something that happened, nothing important.

But it was important to me! I was....well, shall we say, smitten?

Sofia often was out sunbathing when I did my mowing chores, I had long since fixed the gearbox on the mower but I still ran it in low gear. Somehow it gave me more time with her, even though I wasn't with her.

She still sunbathed topless, too, and she still covered herself with the little towel every time I got close. I respected her privacy as I went by, didn't look or stare.

I wanted to.

One day I was going by Sofia's fenceline, there was an Italian looking guy out in the yard with her. As I got close, Sofia signaled me, and they approached the fenceline, she had wrapped the towel around her upper body.

"Dan, I want you to meet Tony."

We did the obligatory handshake, his was firm like mine. I looked him over as he made some small talk about what a nice job I was doing fixing the old place up. You know the type, husky, dark hair cut short, black frame glasses.

Hell, he could have been a football player, or he could sit behind a desk somewhere, hard to tell. It turned out he was an outside salesman for a clothing firm, but I didn't know that then.

I went back to mowing, there was a change. As I came by Sofia's fenceline she didn't bother to cover up, she just lay there glistening with oil. I tried hard to not pay attention, failing a bit. Then I caught a motion at a window in the house, realized Tony must be inside watching.

I thought that was odd, I just continued mowing.

Spring slipped into Summer and things got dry, not much grass was growing so I busied myself. First I made friends with the Cow down in the lower pasture. Once she figured out that I really was the source of the grain that appeared in the pan, her attitude changed. Not much, mind you, but at least she didn't try to stomp me into the ground every time I came close anymore.

Then I began building a porch on one end of the house and a deck on the other. I started out building an ordinary deck, but it got bigger and bigger, until finally I had a huge upper platform that looked out over the entire valley, over 26 feet off the ground.

Don't know why, I just needed to keep busy. Well, I did know why, and hard work seemed to help. I got a chainsaw and cut an entire section out of the south wall of the A-frame, added a large sun room out there. Even poured a little cement waterfall with a small pool, put in a recirculating system.

Next I put in rows of hydroponics, the soilless kind, in no time I had a garden growing in there.

The idea was veggies in the Fall and Winter, it was fun to do and kept my mind off Sofia.

I was out there one day fiddling around using a brush to hand polinate some Squash plants when I looked up and saw Sofia coming around the corner.

"Hi! I knocked, you must not have heard me."

"Sorry, come on in."

I looked her up and down, she had a snug yellow tube top across her bust that wasn't really containing her, and a pair of shorts cut so low that the top of her pubic hair was almost visible. Of course she had so much hair on her body it was hard to tell where the pubic hair stopped and the abdominal hair began.

She looked good, I felt a familiar tingle in my much neglected loins.

She looked around at what I had built, seemingly amazed. I was actually a little proud of it all, I showed her how the water system worked, and she noticed my little waterfall with two Catfish in the pond. I had caught them down in the creek, brought them up and they were happy campers, getting a worm now and then. They were fun to watch, both of them had figured out that if an insect got too close to the edge, they could jump right out of the water and grab it, and slide right back into the pond.

That was hilarious to watch, I had spent hours sitting there doing just that. Kept my mind off Sofia, like I said. I was smitten. But not a thing I could do about it.

I must have mentally wandered off, because Sofia was standing right by me saying something.

"I was thinking..."

"Yea..?"

"I am in the mood..."

"Oh.."

Then she was in my arms. We kissed almost frantically, finally easing off to nuzzling. My hands roamed her body, then it hit me.

"I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Tony. You are his woman."

"Tony sent me over here."

That stopped me.

"What?"

"He likes the idea of you and me...you know."

No, actually, I didn't.

"I don't think I understand."

"Tony sometimes can't..he likes it, it turns him on."

"Oh. Where is Tony?"

"Up at my house."

I didn't like this idea one bit. But Sofia reached down, pulled the tube top over her head, baring those magnificent breasts. In one smooth motion she slid the shorts down, stepped out of them.

"You get to have me this way." Her eyes had an wild look.

"And I get to have you!" She stepped forward, pressed against me.

I was lost, in no time we were up in my loft, both of us gloriously naked. She was doing that inspection thing she did before, touching my erection, turning it this way and that. Not actually playing, or even trying to masturbate me, she was..well...inspecting. Strange yet exciting as hell.

I did the same to her, kissed her body up and down, pressed my fingers between her legs. She let them part to allow me access.

I leaned down, ready to press my lips to her sex. She stopped me, just like last time.

"Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's what Tony does."

I was confused, but I let it go, went back to offering my attention to her full breasts. She lay back with a sigh.

Then she was ready, like the time before. She lay back, opened her legs and reached for me. So different than any woman I had ever known. I just let her dictate, take charge. She grasped me, placed me at her entrance, then spread herself with two fingers. I went with the flow, pushed and we were joined.

It flashed in my mind as I slowly pressed and withdrew that I had thought there would never be another time. Then I was lost in the moment, the sensations as her hips came up to meet me and hold. Her abdomen shuddered, then she relaxed. I was way behind, so I just continued, I felt her begin to build again and this time we were close together.

We lay afterwards in each other's arms. I know it was a good hour, neither one of us spoke. Then together we got up, went to my shower. I had it all rebuilt with new tiles and fixtures, gone was the primitive metal box that was there when I bought the place.

We soaped each other and rinsed, then toweled each other dry.

I made some tea, poured her a cup. There was some conversation we needed to have, I was having a time trying to figure out the words.

"So what are we going to do with each other?"

That was lame.

"I like being with you, Dan."

"Well, I like you, too, but Tony...?"

"Tony doesn't mind, in fact, he wanted me to."

"I don't think I understand."

"Tony doesn't...he can't...the idea helps him."

It hit me.

"Tony does oral?"

"Yes, that is all he does."

"That is why you won't let me...?

"Yes, it is for him."

Yea, strange. A tiny little thing to keep for themselves, something that wasn't to be shared. Something that let Tony keep control, I realized.

Sofia and I settled into a pattern of sorts, I guess one could call it that. The rest of the Summer she dropped by every few days, each time we ended up wrapped up with each other. I suppose for some it would be enough.

It wasn't. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there when I woke up, I wanted her by my side all the time. 

Time flies when you are having fun, the old saw goes. Well, time did fly by, I wasn't sure about the fun part. The sex was good but every time Sofia left to return to her little house, it was like something was torn from me.

I even tried to date, with poor success. I managed to get one nice looking young lady out to my house, then discovered what Tony must be going through. No amount of effort on her part could get me erect. First time in my life that happened to me. The more she tried, the more I tried. And that made it worse. I saw what seemed to be anger mixed with sadness in her eyes. I finally got her out of there and home, and I got back to my place and peace.

Worried, I wrapped my hand around myself, visions of Sofia's naked body in my mind, I was hard as a rock in seconds.

I knew what I had to do.

I called a Real Estate agent, let them list my place. It didn't last long on the market, I was fighting tears as I signed the contract to sell to the beaming young couple. I said my goodbyes to Sofia, her eyes were wet but she accepted.

I made a lot of money, I used it to purchase another place, much larger. Almost 1000 miles North, in what was really wild country. There was a large stream running through it. No neighbors within miles. I spent my days fixing and building, bought an old generator and made it run for lights at night. There was no other power except wood, I had a lot of that. I cut some and delivered it to town to trade for staples and the few things I did need to buy. Only once or twice a month I would take the old pickup truck I owned and drive the 40 miles into town. I could only make the trip when it had been dry for several days, otherwise what passed for a road was not negotiable. 

After the first Winter I learned to stock up, the snows came and I spent 3 months inside the house, food got scarce towards the end. I had some traps and caught the big winter hares that were always around. I ate a lot of Rabbit meat that year.

Folks in the town always looked at me funny, one day I realized why. Living alone I never bothered to shave or cut my hair, I guess I took on the part of the crazy mountain man that lived out in the hills.

I was in town, stacking the big Cedar blocks I had cut to trade to the storekeeper for supplies when an old Station wagon drove up. A woman got out and headed for the store, familiar.

Then it hit me! Sofia. Heavier by a good 20 pounds, but no missing the mass of jet black hair.

I went inside, she was talking to the old storekeeper.

"I know he lives somewhere around here." as she finished describing me.

Well, me as I looked 5 years earlier, not the weather beaten man with a full beard and hair over his shoulders.

She turned and looked at me.

"Sir, do you know where..." she stopped, looked closely.

"Oh!" Then she was in my arms, almost took me off my feet.

There was tears in a torrent, mine too I guess.

"I have been looking for you for years!"

"But..what about Tony?"

"Tony left not long after you did."

Then a smile appeared, she took my hand and led me out to the station wagon. She opened the door, there sat a cherubic little boy, eyes the size of silver dollars.

I knew before she said it.

"Dan. Meet Danny. This is your son."

I stood there in shock.

"You didn't..."

"I found out right after you left, there was no way to let you know. Tony was furious, accused me of doing it deliberately. He left just a week later."

She looked at me closely, judging my reaction.

"I did do it deliberately."

We left the old Station wagon parked in town, the three of us drove up to my place.

I made a meal, fed my boy, tried to talk to him with small success. This would need time, I knew.

later, Sofia and I settled on my makeshift couch and talked.

She explained that she had fallen in love with me but felt trapped because of Tony. Then when I had left and she realized she was pregnant, Tony couldn't handle it and had left her. So she had started looking for me. I hadn't made finding me an easy thing.

But she had inherited some capital, and when the young couple who bought my place popped up with a 2nd child, they needed more room. So she had sold her house and bought the place. The small contract I had carried led her to me.

"So you now own my old place?"

"Yes, we have been there for over a year."

I thought about that, how things go full circle sometimes.

"Dan, I love you. Please come be with us."

I grinned, nothing could please me more.

I hugged her as we shared tears of joy.

"Just one thing." she laughed, as she reached for the buckle on my pants.

"What?"

"You will need a shave."

"You too!" I laughed, thinking of burying my face in the mass of hair between her thighs.

This time, she would let me, I knew. 

For me. Just for me. 



Down on the Farm Ch. 02



Jim felt his penis harden as he tongued Janice's mouth, and sucked her neck and ears, clasping her back and massaging her hips, and with a jolt, completely surprising her, took her shirt in his hands and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. She yelped in shock, up to this point he'd been a gentle lover and had taken his time. Now he was taking control and she was taken aback by the ferocity of his lust. Grunting like one of his pigs, he buried his face into her chest, sucking on her milky breasts, making his way each time to her small, pink nipples, biting down on them like berries. With this and the attention of his massive, coarse hands, she felt a surge of power connecting her chest to her genitals every time he chewed down on her firm pink bullets. As he bothered himself with her mammaries, his hands made their way down to forage underneath her short skirt and yank at her skimpy underwear. She felt helpless in Jim's arms, her knickers providing scant defence from Jim's carnal desires, his tugging and poking. She felt a finger make its way through and tease her outer lips, frustrating her as he traced the surface up and down her damp crack. It felt as big as her previous lover's cock as finally it made its way in, feeling its way around, first stroking the bottom of the canal, then hooking around and touching her sensitive spot.

"aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA", she heard a voice in the room making this noise as her pussy was invaded by a second finger, realising after a few seconds it was herself making these sounds as Jim foraged away, tugging her panties down with a slight rip, by now circling his sticky thumb around her clit and bringing the two fingers in her cunt as if to clasp to his thumb. During this time she had been laid down on her back, her legs having wobbled and given way, with Jim hovering over her. He went down and began to suck at her belly button, her thighs, finally coming to settle at her generous pussy lips, whilst all the time working his fingers in and out of her sex, let his tongue roam around her clit, her canal and working his way down to her tight rosebud anus.


Jan was coming towards orgasm now and groaning so loudly that Jim could hear the echoes reverberating around the barn, he knew that they would be heard by a couple of his workers in the field if he didn't do something, so gave her his free hand to bite on. Jan found nothing more horny than a man fingering her mouth whilst licking her out and this drove her over the edge, biting down on his rough fingers as her cunt tightened and convulsed under the pressure from his attentions, as she came, he took his fingers from her pussy, replaced them with his tongue and burrowed one finger ever so slightly into her tight arsehole, it could hardly take it and by now she was wailing, gnashing so much down on his hands that he felt real pain, combined with the excitement of slowly working his middle finger up Jan's hot, forbidden fundament. 

She slowly calmed and grew sensitive to his tongue, squirming away from its touch. "I think you may have upset the animals young lady", joked Jim, as she caught her breath. "Do you fancy a roll in the hay?"

"Take me over there, I don't think I can walk", she panted. Jim needed no encouragement, kicked off his heavy work jeans and carried her over to the hay in the corner in his powerful arms. She was worried about his size, his fingers had felt so big and his cock, standing upright, must have been eight inches long but obscenely thick.

"I've got something a bit bigger for you now girl" he muttered as he hooked her legs over his shoulders and in one movement, nudged his cock at her throbbing pussy. She could hardly wait and arched her back to get at him, then recoiling as his head nudged into her, she felt him easing into her, burying into her womb. He took it slowly, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt him stop pushing, and what must have been his balls resting against her. He withdrew halfway, making a filthy sucking sound from all the wetness the two lovers had generated. Then again, he pushed, pulled, starting to work up a rhythm, as she held on to his shoulder with one hand and rubbed his hairy chest with the other. She reached around with both and felt his back, matted with thick hair and sweat, she thought that she hated hairy backs but felt even more turned on by it when she discovered it, running her fingers through it, scratching at his back as she started to lose control again, his belly pressing into her thighs with every thrust as she brought her legs back towards her shoulders for him to press against.

Jack was completely lost in the moment of fucking this horny young slut, his muscular legs straining as his angry cock rutted away at her soft, pink cunt. The heat and precum generated from both of them made it a little easier for him to fuck her harder and faster, he picked up the pace and was really banging her at this point while she moaned, hearing and seeing things blurred and at the same time focused in on Jack so clearly, his short thick grey hair contrasting with his ruddy complexion, his tanned and rough body shagging her senseless. He looked down into her hazel eyes, burning holes into them with his look as his cock pistoned in and out of her, almost sucking her inside out with every thrust and pinning her legs behind her shoulders. She started to come again, this time, unable to move much under his tight control, wriggling about underneath the power of his hard rod which was showing no let-up or mercy. As she concentrated and felt his egg-sized balls swinging against and tickling her arse every time he sunk his massive dick into her, she reached her climax with a shriek.

Jack took this as his cue to slow the pace and change position. Without a word, he picked her up with one hand, set her on all fours and greedily shoved his cock up her. She felt him go even deeper this way, and he was hitting the other side of her vaginal wall having turned her around, giving her a different set of sensations as he ploughed away. She began to imagine what it was like to lose consciousness, being tossed around like a ragdoll on the end of his hard penis. Jim held her at the waist, her tits swinging back on his hands, not letting up and shagging harder and harder, her cries sounded like pleas for mercy. Her legs had given way by now and he was almost flat out on top of her, boning all his weight into her. Hay was flying everywhere, there was some stuck to her arse where she'd been sitting and getting moist, some in her hair, Jim found this even more of a turn on and felt his balls begin to fizz, Janice also sensed that he was on the edge as she felt him firm and expand even more to stretch her inside, slowing down with more pronounced thrusts, Jim's balls rose, pushing a torrent of cum through his pipes and to the base of his cock, and with a push of his cock so far in to hit her womb, he roared so loudly the whole farm would hear, and a nailed a jet of boiling spunk so hard that she felt it hit her, followed by a stream of cum she'd never felt the likes of before, it felt like he was spraying gallons into her.

He collapsed on top of Janice, spent, while she lay down dazed. "I don't think I can move lover...I must be crushing you", groaned Jim as he slowly gyrated his slightly softened cock inside her now dripping cunt.

"I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be Jim. I want to stay like this forever." She replied.

"We'll see about that" said Jim.

TO BE CONTINUED.



Down on the Farm Ch. 03



The 4th July fell on a Saturday, that year and their usual custom was to attend the church celebration. It was an all day event planned with children's games in the morning, a picnic lunch on the church lawn, followed by a softball game in the afternoon and fireworks in the evening. The girl's rotation fell to Trish that morning and Edith and Sam would milk in the afternoon. If Trish and I did some extra work in the morning, we would push the time for PM chores back an hour.

"Come on girl, get the sleep out of your eyes. We have a lot of work to do." I said as we walked from the house to the barn that day.

She yawned but didn't say anything. Together we worked as a team. Each of us knew what was expected, knew what the other was doing and had developed a routine. Only an occasional word was spoken, our minds were on the job before us. The radio was on and patriotic music was playing, the weather report said the day would be hot and humid with a slight chance of a late afternoon shower.

The last cow was milked and we worked with cleaning and sterilizing. Side by side we stood at the deep double vat sink, our hands in the soapy mixture washing and scrubbing. For some reason I was feeling ornery and using my hips, I playfully pushed her away from her work. She struggled back in place and pushed me away from the sink. I don't say anything and return to the work. For a minute or two, nothing more is said, then I pushed her away again. In a second we are in a pushing contest, with our hips pushing against each other. Slowly I manage to move her away from the sink. Trish, seeing that she had lost the contest, stepped back, placed her hands on her hips and said, "Looks like you'll be doing all the work now." As she grinned up at me.

Suddenly I leaned down and give her a quick kiss on the lips, and then I return to my normal position in front of the sink and resume washing.

Trish is still standing there with surprise on her face. "What was that for?" she asked.

"Pretty girls deserve to be kissed, so I kissed you."

She stood there with the funniest expression on her face, looking up at me.

"Come on." I encourage, let's get these done.

She returns to the task at hand, washing out the udder cups. With her hands deep in the water, she asks, "Mark, do you think I'm pretty?"

"I kissed you, didn't I?"

"I'm serious, Mark. Am I really pretty?"

I look at her and search her face. The question is real. "Yes, I think you are pretty. Very pretty."

"Then how come, guys don't ask me out?"

That brought me up short. In all the time I'd known her, she'd never been on a date. She needed re-assurance. "Trish, you are a very beautiful girl and if I were in high school again, I'd ask you out in a heart beat."

"You would?"

"Yup, I sure would."

That put a smile on her face and we settled down to our work. It was close to 20 after ten as we finished up. As we walked to the house, to get cleaned up, Trish voiced what was on her mind. "Could today … could … could today be like a date between us?" she finished the sentence very quickly and her words ran together.

"I thought the guy was supposed to ask the girl out; not the other way around."

"MARK." She stamped her foot. "Now-a-days some girls ask guys out." Then the question look was back in her eyes. "Could it be?"

She was a sweet kid, so I said, "Sure."

She put her hand in mine and we strolled to the house. We got cleaned up and I drove to the church. Most of the morning games were over and we arrived in time to help setup the tables for the lunch. Trish was never far from me except once, talking to her mom. When we walked together, she made certain her hand was in mine. Edith looked at us, but refrained from saying anything.

There was lots of food to select from and we went through the line where our plates were filled to heaping. We sat at a table with some of the others in the youth group. "What do you want to drink?" I asked Trish.

"Iced tea." 

I went to the drinks table and returned with her drink and one for me. The talk among everyone was about the softball game that afternoon. Each year the competition was between the married and the unmarried. For the past 5 or 6 years, the married folks had been the victors and this stung the pride of everyone at the table. Positions were already allocated and extras would be stuffed into the outfield. I was new here and that is where they placed me, along with Trish. Now, I've played ball, in fact, I've played a lot of ball. But this was their competition and I just let it be.

After we finished eating the unmarried folks got the equipment out and began warming up, playing catch, and taking some swings. Pop flies were placed into the field to give everyone an opportunity to play. They had one fellow who was pitching and I could see that his skill was not very good. They asked me to do some practice batting, which I did. I can swing a bat, but I cannot hit worth beans, and it showed. A few groans were heard and their hopes were dashed. Some hoped I could be a long ball hitter. Teams played with both men and women in a friendly match. 

Game time arrived and after a coin toss, the married folks got to bat first. The Pastor was the Umpire, standing behind the pitcher. The 'married' team, I observed, had the power hitters and by the time 3 outs had been reached, 6 runs were scored. Although they could hit, they were slow with fielding. Perhaps we could use this to our advantage. Sides were swapped and our team came to bat. Here the skills were reversed. Our team could field well, but our hitting was average. After the inning was over, we had garnered one run. From the comments heard, this was to be a repeat of the previous years. 'Not if I could help it.' I thought.

"Hey guys, over here." I requested of the captain. They gathered near me and wondered what was up.

"Come on, we can win this game. Give me the ball, let me pitch."

"You any good?" someone asked. Trish was listening at the edge of the team.

"Would two state championships in three years be a good indication?" I responded.

That produced some whistles from the group and I noticed Trish's eyes got big.

"Who's the best catcher?"

"Joe here. He's pretty good." The captain mentioned.

"You got a good glove?" I asked him. He showed it to me and I replied, "You will need some extra padding. Does someone have some cotton gloves?"

They were produced from the spectators and he inserted them into his glove. Everyone else took the field while I spoke to Joe. "Look, I'll take seven warm up pitches. They will have some pep. After that, every pitch will smoke. You know each batter and where the best place to pitch to them. Put your glove in that spot and don't move it, because that is where the ball will arrive. If you can catch what I pitch, no one will reach base."

With that I took the pitching circle. Turning to the Pastor, "Do I get seven warm ups?"

"Throw em kid. Let's see what you've got."

With that I unloaded seven straight pitches and drew some loud comments from the opposing team. "Where did you get this guy? He can pitch." Or, "He throws straight stuff, we can hit that."

The first batter was up to the plate. He stood about 6 foot and 210 lbs. and a lot of upper arm strength. If he ever connected, the ball would be gone. The problem was, I was not about to let him get near the ball. Joe put his glove waist high and on the inside. Okay here goes.

The first pitch was in Joe's glove before he even knew I had thrown the ball. "Strike one."

"Hey, I didn't even see that. Where's the ball?" the batter commented. Others on the team suddenly took notice of what was happening. All eyes were on me. I grinned inwardly, because this was a show.

The second pitch was right down the pike. "Strike two."

Then "Strike Three."

Joe called time and walked out to the mound. "Where can I get more padding?" he grinned. "This hand is gonna hurt tonight, but it's going to be worth it."

With that, we retired the next two batters. One took a swing but didn't come close.

Our side came up to bat and everyone was giving me the 'high five' or patting me on the back. "Look guys," I said, "Let me do the pitching, they won't get any more runs. But it will be up to you to get the scores to beat them. They're slow with fielding. If we can put the ball into play, we can advance any runners. Come on, let's go."

Trish came over and latched on to my arm. "Did you really win the state championship?" 

"Yeah, two years straight." I smiled looking into her eyes of wonder.

"You could be a 'pro' ball player with an arm like that." Joe said from the other side of the fence.

"Na," I replied. "I blew my elbow. I can't throw overhand any more. But this straight arm underhand pitch, that's another thing." 

Joe grinned. "Boy, do these guys have a surprise this year."

We scored two runs this inning and the score was 6 to 3. I took the mound and retired the next three batters. By now the other team was getting wise to what they were up against. "Where did you get this guy?" and, "Is he for real? Where's the rule book. There's gotta be something against him."

I took my turn at bat and hit a blooper to the shortstop. "At least he can't hit." was heard from the opposing team. 

Walking back, I saw Edith sitting among the women. I stepped over and squatted down beside her. "You looked lonely sitting here." I commented.

She smiled in my direction. "They say the year of firsts is the hardest." She paused. "You never stop amazing me. Twice you did it today."

"Oh, how's that?"

"Your pitching, for one."

"And the other?"

"You and Trish." she said as we watched a close play at home plate.

"Huh?"

"She told me about the kiss you stole and agreeing to call today a date."

I jerked my head to look at her. "She's already told you about all this, huh?"

"She tells me everything about you."

"She's a really nice kid."

"Careful Mark. She's ..." I heard her say before I left to take the mound.

Our side had gotten 2 additions runs. The score stood at 6 to 5. I retired the next three batters, as expected. But not before one had gotten a piece of a pitch. It was a foul, but that was all.

Trish came in from the field and we sat watching the game. "How's it going?" I asked.

"Okay." as she stuck her hand in mine. "Think we'll win today?"

"Maybe." One of our guys was on base, one out. 

"Who's the next batter?" someone queried.

"Oh, that's me" as Trish got up.

"Hit 'em in." I encouraged.

"Yeah, right." she said back.

The first two pitches to her were called strikes while she watches them cross the plate. "Swing at it." I said.

The next ball was thrown and she weakly swung. She got a piece of it and it bobbled down the third base line. The third baseman moved forward for the easy out. As he stooped to pick it up, his foot kicked the ball and drove into the spectators. By the time it was retrieved, one run had scored and Trish was safe on first. Tie score.

"Way to girl." I encouraged. "Way to go."

Our next batter flied out to center. Then the next one drove the ball deep between two defenders. When the dust cleared, Trish was on third. I moved to the baseline, "You can score."

Her face flushed with excitement, and her attention was on the next batter. The fourth pitch got away from the catcher and rolled to the backstop. "Run" I quietly said and she took off. Their catcher was not paying attention and by the time he realized it, it was too late and Trish crossed the plate. We were up one run.

"Way to go, way to go." I said as I ran up beside her. 

She was excited at the accomplishment and wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. "I did it. I really did it."

The next batter struck out and we took the field. The next two innings were pretty much the same. They did tighten up their defense but the damage was done and they didn't get on base. The final score was 6 to 8, the unmarried team was the winner. Joe walked over to me as we moved off the field; he was holding his hand out, palm up. "You weren't joking about 'smoking' it."

"Be careful with your hand, it likely will be bruised by morning."

Our team was excited at the victory and was asking me questions. The married men congratulated us. "Gotta get you married before next year." one of them said. "With you on our team, they wouldn't have a chance."

"Not likely to happen. Don't have a girlfriend." I added.

"What about Trish?" another asked. "She's available. We gotta get you on our side. There's the preacher, he can do the job."

I grinned at the joke, and then it dawned on me she and I were holding hands. Nothing more needed to be said but I opened my mouth anyway. "Not this year. That'd be too soon."

Trish squeezed my hand. 'Yikes' I thought.

It was time for the milking, so Edith called the other two girls. Becky whined, "Mom, let me come home with Mark. It's not my turn for chores."

"No," she insisted. "You come with me." Becky continued to protest, but to no avail. They left in a few minutes and Trish and I strolled around, looking at things and talking to folks.

Trish introduced me to the pastor's wife. "So you're the young man working at Bud and Edith's place. I've heard good things about you and after today's performance you'll be the talk of the town." 

"I'm helping Edith out now that Bud is gone. They're a good family, and he is sorely missed."

"You staying for the fireworks? We'd love to have you join our group." She asked.

"Not certain we can. It will be late before we get home and there's the milking at 3am. Besides, we didn't bring anything for supper."

"Should you choose to stay, food will not be a problem. There's plenty left over from our lunch." She replied as I looked down at Trish.

She didn't say a word, but her eyes took on the 'Bambi' look. Guess I'm a sucker for the 'doe' eyes with a pleading request in them. "We'll stay." I said.

"Good. We can set another couple places. You should enjoy it."

With that, Trish and I walked into the shade of a nearby tree. "You're getting up with me in the morning, girl. If you wanna stay, then you gotta help."

She smiled her acceptance. We sat down and leaned back, watching the other folks. We were silent for a few minutes, when I noticed that familiar 'far away' stare on Trish's face. She sat there, oblivious to all surroundings, not moving. "Trish?" I whispered. No response. "Trish?" I say louder. Still she did not hear. I disengaged my hand from hers and rotated my arm, it was sore from the workout. Hadn't been used for several months and I'd failed to warm up properly.

Her attention returns to the present. "Here, let me rub your shoulder." I swiveled so that her hands could work the muscles of the joint. Oh, that felt good.

For 10 minutes she kneaded and massaged the muscles. It took that long for the tension to be worked out. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like me?"

"Sure, I like you." I said with out thinking.

"No, I mean do you like me as a girl? You know, like a girlfriend?"

My head slowly turns and looks her in the eye. She was dead serious and I was thinking fast. Could I extract myself without hurting her feelings? I didn't see how. If the wrong thing were said, or she took it the wrong way, her puppy love would lead her in the wrong direction. The way I considered her, she was a kid, the daughter of the family I worked for. The things I'd done and said earlier today probably lead up to this moment; plus comments by the other team may have added fuel. What could I possible tell her, and yet not offend her. She was waiting, and afraid of what I might say.

"Trish," I start out slowly. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend, right now. I'm not in a hurry for a relationship. You are a sweet and very wonderful girl. I like you; in fact I like you a lot. Do I like you as a girlfriend? Honestly, I don't know because I've never allowed myself to explore that possibility. When your dad passed away, your life changed and my life changed. I have taken on some responsibilities which kind of scare me. That is what keeps me busy."

"Could you like me as a girlfriend?" she emphasized the word 'could'.

If I said 'no', it would be lying. But if I said 'yes', it might get her hopes up. Her hands continue to work with my shoulder and our eyes meet, hers are searching mine, hoping beyond hope, hope I don't close the door to her. "Yeah, I could." I smile. "I could, easily." I added.

The look in her eyes became like a 'sigh', a sigh of a 'maybe'. The door hadn't been closed and just perhaps, perhaps she had come a step closer.

"I want to have fun today, Trish; fun just being here and fun with you."

Her smile brightened and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. The sun was still shining in her eyes.

To change the subject I asked, "Can you show me the church? I've only been here once."

"Sure. Come on." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. Together we walked to the back door, which was open and we stepped inside. My concept of a church was rather foggy, coming from my younger years. I figured it to be a 'holy' place with hushed voices, and as such.

We walked from room to room and I observed that no one place appeared more reverent than another. So I asked her.

"This church is only a building where we come together for worship of God." She started her explanation. "God is holy, not the place. Items in this church are used to help us learn about Him."

There was an alter at the front of the auditorium. As a child I kind of remember it being a special place where God was supposed to work or do his thing. But here, Trish explained, it was used to help focus worship. It was not an object to be worshiped. As we continued, I asked all kinds of questions and she tried to give a good answer, but with some she did not know. "You will have to ask the pastor about that."

"What do you believe, here?"

"The Bible."

"Is that all? You don't have any other books?"

"No, just the Bible. Let me show you something." Pulling me through a large doorway she pointed to some words over the top.

"The Bible, the Whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible."

That was sure different from what I had remembered. There were other things that were considered important, although I could not recall what they were. I guess I had a lot to learn. "Can I ask you when I have a question?"

"You can ask me, sure. And if I don't know, ask mom, or ask the Pastor."

We continued the tour with me asking a 'ton' of things. Leaving the church, we found the Pastor and joined him for supper. He had been impressed with the pitching prowess I demonstrated earlier that day and I told of my high school sporting days. After a lengthy discussion on that topic, Trish interrupted and shared I had some questions about the church. We changed gears and he politely explained what the church believed and how it applied to the lives of people. I must say he was very thorough and very understanding of my ignorance. He invited me to attend any service to observe and learn. I guess I figured there would be pressure, but there wasn't. He offered an invitation to visit and left it up to me.

The evening progressed as the sun set and darkness descended. The fireworks display was scheduled for 10pm and a few minutes before, we moved to a better viewing spot and blankets were provided to sit, while watching. Trish made a point of holding my hand and I gave it a slight squeeze. The fireworks started and I was impressed. Lasting over 20 minutes the bursts of colors never seemed to stop. The flares overhead were the exceptionally awesome.

At the conclusion, Trish and I walked to the car, swinging our hands. "You have a good time today?" I asked.

"The best, cause it was with you." 

"Don't forget tomorrow morning. It will come all too soon."




Down on the Farm Ch. 03



To Trish, today had been a date. For me, it was an enjoyable time with someone I thought of as a 'kid sister'.

We return home and we catch the few hours sleep before we begin milking.

The 'dog days' of summer arrived, and before I realized it fall would come. There had been a lot of hard work and everyone had pitched in. Edith still had not decided what to do with the dairy and as things were operating smoothly she was in no hurry to make a decision. We put in 4 other crops of hay before school started that fall. That summer, mucking the barn was one of the dirtiest jobs, but everyone worked at it. Most of the cows had calved, so production was high for the summer months. Edith and I discussed what the best course of action would be after I returned to school. Most classes I could schedule in the morning, leaving the afternoons and evenings to do milking and other work. Edith would do the morning milking during the week. The girls would help me when they arrived home from school. Weekends would be on a rotational basis. We talked about this arrangement and everyone was in agreement, it was the best for now. The summer holiday was over, the girls returned to high school and I started classes. It was quicker to catch the noon meal at the school cafeteria before heading out to the farm. 

The corn crop still stood in the field. Bud had planted it. I would harvest it as silage. By mid October the silo was empty. I spent a lot of time scraping the walls, cleaning out the rotted remainder and sealing the joints. Having never done this before, Edith became the teacher. As the lower rings were prepared, a load or two of silage was cut and blown in. Then we moved higher to seal the next set of rings, followed by additional loads blown in. Slowly the silo was filled. The last load was blown in and Sam and I spent 3 hours tromping it down tight. Anything touched by air would spoil, the rest would cure. We wanted it to cure. Until then, hay was the roughage of choice.

I was becoming exhausted from the daily routine. There was no let up. Classes in the mornings, farm work in the afternoon, followed by chores, more work, and late nights doing assignments. About Thanksgiving, I wanted a break. The last football game was our 'Homecoming' and we were playing our arch-rivals. Traditional activities included the parade of floats down Main Street in the afternoon; the football game was scheduled early in the evening, followed by a huge formal banquet and dance. Win or loose, we always invited the opposing school. All announcements which I had seen, indicated this was to be the largest 'Homecoming' ever. I wanted to take the afternoon and evening off. I arrived at the farm and discussed the possibility with Edith. "Do you have a date?" she asked.

Edith had never questioned my social life, so this question took me a bit by surprise. "No. I don't have a girlfriend. Just figured to go with some of the guys, and have a good time."

Before she spoke again, she paused and I waited. She had something on her mind. "Mark, take Trish. Make it a date, a real date." She sensed my hesitation; then added. "The two of you had fun on the 4th, didn't you?"

Taking a girl on a date had never entered my thinking, let alone Trish. "Yes, we did have fun." I responded, thinking back to that time.

"She's told you, hasn't she, that no one has ever asked her out? Make her wish come true." Edith was watching, waiting.

I thought 'Ya, know, a date to Homecoming with Trish would be fun.'

"Sure, I'll ask her."

Edith smiled and slowly expelled the breath she had been holding. I was too caught up in thoughts to notice.

Finishing up our conversation, I head to the barn. I was working in the mow, when the girls arrived home from school. They changed into their working clothes and Sam and Becky took off down the lane to bring the cows in. Trish came looking for me, asking what I wanted her to do. "Let's go feed the calves. I want to check on the 'big one'. She's off her feed and has the 'trots'. May have to call the vet."

Together we walked down the ladder, through the door and into the pen. All the calves moved around us, looking to be fed. The 'big one' stood off from the rest and we cornered her for closer examination. While checking her out, I casually shared with Trish about Homecoming at school and that Edith had allowed me to take the time off. I explained about the parade, the ball game, banquet and the dance.

"Are you going with somebody?" she asked. I wasn't looking at her, but did hear a wistfulness in her tone.

"Originally I thought about going 'stag', but changed my mind. There's a girl I'm going to ask."

"Oh." The disappointment hung heavy in her voice.

I turn to face her, she is looking downwards. "Trish?" I ask.

She raises her eyes to mine.

"Would you be my date to Homecoming?"

It took a second for my question to register, then the light in her eyes turned on and a smile spread across her face. "Yes, I will." Was her reply. "Gladly, I will."



Down on the Farm Ch. 04



The Friday of Homecoming arrived and the girls returned home from school. Edith, Becky and Sam disappeared into the barn doing chores. Trish and I got ready for the big date. We dressed into casual clothes, took along warm clothes for the ball game, plus our formal dress for the banquet and dance. The back seat of my car was loaded down, plus a couple surprises for her.

We drove to town and found a parking spot, locking the car, we walked hand-in-hand to a spot along Main Street. This location was near a corner and we would have an excellent view as the parade would pass. We sat on a wall ledge and talked as we waited. "You're excited?" I commented.

"Kind of." I see the smile across her face. "Yes I'm excited."

"Let's have fun today. Okay?" By now others were lining the street and seeking good vantage points. A couple guys from the dorm, I'd known earlier in the year walked by.

"Hi, Mark. How are you doing? Haven't seen you for a while? Who's your date?" one asked.

I introduced Trish to them, and then introduced them to her. We talked for a while about the big game, discussing strengths and weaknesses of our team. "Should be a good game." He said, finishing the conversation. They were to meet some others. "Gotta run, Mark. See you at the game. Are you two going to be at the dance?"

When I indicated we were, he looked at Trish, saying, "I'll look you up." Then he left.

I chuckled and shook my head as he walked away. "What was that about?" Trish questioned.

"Never mind him. It's just that he'll date anything that wears a skirt. Right now he figures you are a college student that he has somehow missed. He's interested in asking you out."

"Really? I don't think I'd be interested." Then she added, "Besides, I've got the date I want."

The parade arrived within a few minutes and we were regaled with the marching band, Homecoming Queen and her court, displays from different fraternities and sororities, plus several merchants. As the last float passed us, the crowd began to disperse. "Come on. Time for the game."

It took us nearly 45 minutes to get to the car, make our way to the stadium, and park again. The crowd was larger than I'd remembered from last year. The game was an important one, not for our team, but for our rivals. Should they win today, they would be conference champs. If they lost, another school would come out on top. For us, win or lose, it wouldn't make any difference, BUT we were determined to snatch the victory today, just to rub their noses in it.

We arrived at the field and after passing through the gate, took a seat on the bleachers. It was a cold afternoon with a crisp wind blowing from the north. The band performed a pre-game show, the cheerleaders jumped through their routines, and the teams took the field.

By half time we were ahead by 3 points and my voice was becoming hoarse. Trish had gotten into the spirit of the game and was as enthusiastic as everyone else. Walking to the concession stand she stuck her hands deep into my coat pockets. The wind had picked up and Trish was chilled. I purchased a chili-dog and a hot chocolate to warm her up. "You look cold. Hope this helps."

"Thanks, it does." She said while smiling.

The concourse is very crowded and we pick our way through towards the opening leading to our seats. A hand taps me on the shoulder and I turn around and see my friend Ron. "Hey, man, it's good to see you again. Where have you been keeping yourself?" he asks.

Briefly I explain about the farm work and I was staying there for now. "Where's Marj?" I ask. Ron and Marjorie had been dating when I first started school here. Now they were engaged and planning their marriage after school was out, next summer. Though we were not close friends, we had maintained a steady acquaintance.

"She'll be along in a minute. She had to use the restroom."

Just then she pulls up beside Ron and I introduce Trish. Marjorie reached out and they shook hands. We talk briefly for a few minutes.

"Say Marj, could you do us a favor?" I asked.

"If I can. Whatcha need?"

"Trish is new around here and she needs to change her clothes for the banquet. If we meet you in front of the Student Union, could you show her where to go?" 

"Glad to, Mark."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." I say and hand her a slip of paper. I take Trish's hand and lead her towards our seats. Over my shoulder I say, "We'll see you by the SU."

As we take our seats, Trish asks, "What was that piece of paper?"

"A surprise." I said.

The contest between the two teams was very intense. Our guys were battling hard and the score remained close. We remained up 3 points through the 3rd quarter. At the beginning of the fourth they were able to move the ball and managed to score a TD, even against our defense. On the next drive, our team moved the ball down the field, and it looked like they were going to score. But on 3rd and 2, our man fumbled the ball and as it rolled towards the goal, the other team fell on it. With that stroke of luck, and the discouragement to our team, they took the ball to our 25 yard line before we stopped them. They connected with a field goal, were up by 7 points and 4 minutes to play. 

Our guys get the ball back and are moving it down the field. Time is running out and we need a score. The coach called a time out and we can see the team huddled around him by the bench. When the whistle blew, we made an amazing play. The QB caught their defense napping and tossed a pass to our Tight End. He was off running and almost made it to the goal. Their man was able to push him out of bounds at the 2 yard line. The next series of plays are executed and we push the ball over the line. Tie game with 2:14 to play and they have the ball.

Can our defense hold them? This will be the test. Ever so subtly, they begin a series of short passes and march down the field; we cannot stop them. They are playing the clock well and it appears likely that they will score. At our 35 yard line, 20 seconds on the clock, they have two more plays. If they can move the ball 5 more yards, stop the clock, and kick a field goal, the game is over. We MUST stop them. Our coach calls our last time out to setup the defense.

Trish is into this game and yelling with the crowd. "Do you think we can stop them?" she asks above the roar.

"I don't know. We can only hope."

The whistle blows, the ball is snapped and their QB tosses a perfect pass right into the receiver's hands. Suddenly our side is on their feet and yelling. As I look, it dawns on me that the receiver was from our team and he was madly running it down the sideline. It was like a slow motion comedy, our one lone man was being chased by 6 or 7 of their team. They wouldn't catch him, either. The clock expires just before he crosses the goal line and we win the game. The stands are in bedlam. The crowd has gone crazy. We win. We WIN. WE WIN. 

Trish and I are literally hugging each other over this victory. As the crowd calms down, we find our way to the exit and out to the parking lot. We overhear snatches of conversations about the amazing play which gave us the unexpected win. This would be a topic of conversation for a long time to come. I am still full of adrenalin and I lead us into a small park. The sun had gone down a short time ago and the field lights added to the illumination in the fading twilight. I was feeling euphoric and Trish was full of fun. She began to tickle me. I am ticklish, very ticklish and she had found my weak spot. We soon were rolling on the grass and she worked to get their hands under my coat and onto my ribs. My hands are flailing, both trying to get her to stop and to also tickle her. We were laughing so hard and before I realized it, Trish was on the bottom and I lay on top. As I rise up, my hand brushed against her side and landed on her breast. This was not my intention so I attempted to move it. Her fingers then found their way under my coat and into my ribs, my arms collapsed and my hand closed on her breast. Despite my best efforts to avoid it, the result was obvious; unintentional, but obvious. I cried out "Uncle, I give up. You win. You win." 

We were exhausted and lay there panting. I finally stood and pulled Trish to her feet. She took this opportunity, wrapped her arms around me and kissed me soundly. I returned the kiss and we lingered. After we disengaged, she turned to me and she placed her hand in mine.

"Come," I say. Traffic was lighter and I steer the car towards the SU. After find a parking spot, we carried our change of clothes and arrived at our destination. Marjorie was waiting for us. "What took you two so long?" she questioned.

"Got side tracked." Trish volunteered, grinning.

"Go change into your dress, and I'll meet you back here when you're ready." I say.

Trish and Marjorie head off towards the women's changing room as I mosey to the men's area and slip into a suit I had rented for this occasion. Now, I'm not one to dress up much, but I wanted this evening to be special for Trish. If this was her first date, and I believed it was, I would make it into a truly memorable time. 

Putting my regular duds into the duffle bag, I stowed it into a locker and returned to our meeting point. Trish and Marj hadn't returned, so I waited. In fact, I waited nearly 20 minutes. Marjorie came out first, with Trish following immediately behind, so that I couldn't get a glimpse. I had risen to my feet as Marjorie approached, then Trish stepped out from behind her and my breath was taken away. "Oh wow, Oh my." Was all I could say. In all the time I had known Trish, she usually wore jeans and sweatshirts. Occasionally she would wear a skirt and blouse to church. But I had never seen her dressed in a gown like this. Edith had purchased the gown, special for this date, and had it modified to fit Trish. She was absolutely stunning. "Wow." I say again.

"Do you like the way she looks?" Marj asked.

"Holy smokes, Trish, you're beautiful."

"Sorry about the delay, but I was fixing her hair." Marj added.

And indeed her hair did look lovely. Marj had brushed Trish's hair, left the sides hand down, and then pulled the center back, placing it in a high pony tail. The arrangement was beautiful. I must have been gawking 'cause Marj poked me. "Oh, yeah." I said. I retrieved a box I'd slid under a chair and opened it, removing a corsage. Stepping close to Trish, I pinned it on her gown and stepped back to admire. "You look lovely." I said. "Absolutely lovely."

"Thank you." Trish said.

"Pretty as a picture; don't you think, Mark?" said Marj.

That brought me to my second surprise. Each year a local photographer came and set up his cameras. Anyone could come for a sitting. Often many of the couples had their picture taken, and for an extra charge, he would have them ready by the time the evening was over.

I leaned over and gave Marj a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for everything. Tell Ron, I appreciate him letting me borrow you for these few minutes."

"My pleasure. Trish is a real beauty and a real lady. She's special. Hang on to her, Mark." With that, she departed to find Ron.

I escorted Trish to the photographer's area, filled out the forms, paid my money, and we had our pictures taken. We had individual pictures taken and several shots of us together. Trish didn't talk much during this time, but her eyes were shinning. She was the center of attention.

Next stop was the banquet hall, and I escorted her to the room. There were tables arranged around the sides, with the center of the floor cleared for dancing. We selected a table and as I walked her to our chairs, I noticed several people were turning to look at Trish. Whether it was from wondering who this new person was, or whether if was because of how she looked, it did not make any difference. She was drawing attention.

Four couples were seated at each table and I didn't know any of the other folks we were with. A professor and his wife were among our group and we became animated in conversation. During the course of the evening he inquired about Trish, saying he hadn't seen her on campus. Trish explained she lived in the area, but was attending another school elsewhere. All day we'd been leaving the impression Trish was attending college; we just never bothered to correct this misconception.

The meal was served and an orchestra played. Later, while the desert was being served, the coaches from our teams were asked to stand and address the audience. They poked jabs at each other's team, all in jest and we were rolling in laughter. The meal was finished and the tables cleared. The orchestra started playing tunes for dancing.

"Trish," I said, "would you like to dance?"

"I don't know how to dance." She replied.

"I don't either. Shall we learn together?" I stood and extended my hand.

She took my hand and we moved to a section of the floor that was not crowed. Tentatively we started and at first we were clumsy. However, as the evening progressed we learned and were enjoying our time very much. Several times, other men would ask Trish for a dance. She politely declined, but thanked them for asking. In the ball room, there were a few outstanding women, and in my mind, Trish was one of them. I honestly saw other folks, from a distance, watching her.

The evening moved on, and the clock struck twelve. But this Cinderella didn't change. She remained beautiful. About one o'clock, people were leaving and Trish and I left, going to the photographer to pick up our prints. As usual, he had several different prints in our packet, hoping we would purchase additional ones, which I did. Trish wanted an 5 x 8 of each portrait, plus an 8 x 10 of the two of us. I purchased some wallet size of each, and an 8 x 10 of us both. This last one was for Edith. 

"You ready to go?" I asked.

"No, not really. Can we go get something to eat?"

I bow before her, "Your wish is my command." Then I help her get her coat on.

Arm in arm, I walk her to the car and we drive to a local restaurant which stays open 24 hours. Entering, we are shown a table and we sit side by side. "Are you having a good evening?" I ask.

"Oh thank you, Mark. It's been better than good." She hugged my arm and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

The waitress took our order and we talked until it was served. After we had eaten, Trish yawned, she was tired and ready to go home. "Come, let's get this princess home, she needs to turn into a sleeping beauty."

We drove home and walked into the house. She turned to face me; I took my hand, lifted her chin and kissed her. Her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck and we held this for a long time. As we separated Trish said, "Oh no, I forgot. I'm to help mom milk this morning."

"Go on to bed." I tell her. "Let me help your mom."

"Mark, are you sure?"

"Scoot. Go to bed. I can't sleep anyway."

Giving me a quick kiss, "Thanks." And she went to her room.

I slipped downstairs and changed out of the suit, got into my work clothes and went to the barn. Edith had arrived a short time earlier, but was not surprised I had volunteered to help.

"You gotta tell me everything that happened last night." She demanded. 

As we worked together, I related the evening's events. I'm not given to much detail, and Edith would ask questions to further enhance events. I shared the events of the parade, the game, meeting with Ron and Marj, the pictures, banquet, the dance, and our time at the restaurant. 

"You have pictures?"

"Yeah, here." I pulled a couple from my wallet. As she looks at them I add, "I have an 8 x 10 of that one at the house for you."

She lifts her eyes to mine, "You're a handsome young man. She sure is pretty. Isn't she?"

"Yeah she really is."

"Did you kiss her?"

"Yeah, twice."

"Twice, huh. When?"

"Just now, when I brought her home. And once in the park."

"What happened in the park?"

I hesitated at this point and Edith picked up on it. "Mark, either you can tell me, because Trish will. It's your choice."

So I related the events and where I had touched her, inadvertently. 

She was quiet for a long time and I feared I was in trouble. It was a mistake and not intentional. How could she hold that against me? When she next spoke, her question caught me completely off guard. "Mark, do you love Trish?"

Pausing, I say, "I don't think so."

"Mark, I know Trish. She'll believe it was intentional and you were showing her affection. Now tell me why you DON'T love her?"

"Edith, she is a kid. That makes a lot of sense."

"As smart as you are, you can sure be ignorant when it comes to women. Look, from the first day Trish met you, she has had a crush on you. Mark, I know she adores you; she loves you."

I am blown away and stand there dumbfounded.

"How old are you Mark?"

"21"

"How old is Trish?"

"16"

"Wrong. She'll be 18 next month. She is a woman and she is interested in you. Those kisses and when you fondled her will have given her the idea you cared. She and I have had some talks and you were the topic. I have known for a long time that she loves you, she loves you beyond reason, Mark. Lately her one big wish has been that you would show some interest and date her, but you haven't shown any. It was my suggestion to take her to homecoming. I think you need to talk to Trish and get some things straight. If you have absolutely no interest in her, let her know. On the other hand, if there is the least possible chance, she should be aware."

For the last three minutes, I had not moved from where I stood. The things she was sharing were mind blowing. Then Edith asked the defining question.

"Mark, look at me."

I did.

"I think you love Trish; but you aren't willing to accept it. What would your life be like, if Trish were suddenly gone? Don't answer, think about it and tell me later."

We didn't talk any more and proceeded with the milking and chores. One of the heifers hadn't come in and would need to be checked on. We finished up about 9:30 and headed to the house for breakfast. The younger girls were up and had the table set. We sat down and soon had the food gone. I was dead tired and hadn't slept for over 24 hours. "I'm going to bed. Wake me for chores."

Crawling into bed was easy, but sleep wouldn't come. My mind turned that question over and over. What if Trish were suddenly gone? What would my world be like? My thoughts considered the possibilities of loosing each of the girls, of Edith being gone, of them all being gone. There was one overriding theme; I didn't want to loose Trish. The others, I'd miss terribly, but Trish, no, I didn't want to loose her at all. She was enjoyable to be around and the times spent doing chores were some of the most fun times. I must have dozed because I was suddenly wide awake and in a cold sweat. A dream was haunting me, in it Trish was gone. The clock read 1pm. Still two hours till milking. Edith's words made sense, maybe I did love Trish. Maybe I didn't. I wasn't sure. How could I know? Maybe ... Maybe ... I fell asleep.

The alarm jerked me awake and I reached over to shut it off. The time was 3am and I'd slept 14 hours straight. I must have needed it. Putting on my clothes, I head to the barn. Flicking on the lights, I put together the milking machines and drop down the feed. The cows are patiently standing at the gate, waiting to be let into the holding pen. I open it and let them in. A quick check lets me know that the bulk tank has been cleaned, so I begin milking. Busily I clean off the udders and apply the milking cups. 

A hand rests on my shoulder and I turn and see Trish. "Mom asked me to help you this morning."

Pointing towards a couple cows, "Could you start with them?" She moves off and begins her chores.

Me, I wondering how much Edith had talked to Trish. Probably a lot, but where does that leave me? Within a few minutes the two of us are in a rhythm. A fresh group of cows is let into the barn and we work as a team, cleaning their udders, feeding them, and putting on the machines. Silently we work together, knowing what the other is doing and understanding what is expected. Time passes and it's 9 o'clock as we finish.




Down on the Farm Ch. 04



"Trish, did you and your mom have a talk yesterday?"

She looked up in surprise. "Yeah, we did."

"Was I the main topic?"

A much longer pause, so I ask a second time, "Was I the main topic?"

"Yes." She finally said.

Looking at each other we stand just inside the milk house. "We gotta talk, and this is not the place to do it."

"Mark?" she starts and then stops, I wait. She takes a breath and lets out a deep sigh. "Yeah, we do have to talk."

"Your mom probably has breakfast ready. We need to clean up; today's Sunday." We walk to the house and our hands find each other's. Glancing up, I see Edith working by the kitchen window as we cross the yard.

We enter the house; I smell the bacon and hear Edith saying, "Sam, Becky? Breakfast is ready. Mark and Trish are here. Let's eat."

Quickly, kicking off my dirty boots, I wash my hands and return. The girls are coming around the hall corner and take their places at the table. After everyone is seated, we dig in. General chatter is heard, along with the clink of forks against our plates. I am listening while Becky complains about what to wear to church, Sam asks a question about the youth group, Trish brings up a problem with one of the cows and Edith is acting as referee to it all.

The meal is nearly over and Edith says, "Mark, Trish, take the rest of the day off. The girls and I will go to church and do the evening chores."

"Mother, what's going on?" asked Sam.

"Not fair." Whines Becky.

This was one of the few times I ever saw Edith take charge in this manner. She wasn't allowing any discussion and would brook no dissention.

Trish looked at her mom with her jaw open. I reached over and lifted a finger against her chin to close it. I gave her a nod indicating to her 'Let's go'. As we left the table we could hear the protests of the girls but Edith held firm.

Trish and I each took a shower, changing into clean clothes. The two of are walking out the door and Edith stands in the kitchen watching us. "Are you setting us up?" I asked.

"No, I'm not. The two of you need to get this talked through. What you decide is between you."

Driving to town, Trish slid over next to me and held my arm, placing her head on my shoulder. "Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"To the park, on the swings."

That's where we went. We pushed each other for a while and then moved to a bench beside the pond. We talked while watching the ducks. She talked about her sisters and how Sam was too much of a tomboy while Becky still wanted to be a little girl. She loved her sisters but thought they were such 'pains'. 

We are silent again; the ducks drift to another area of the pond. Glancing over at Trish she has entered into that trance. Here eyes are unfocused with a distant look, she's not moving and lost within some mental reverie. A number of weeks ago I'd asked Edith about this and she didn't recall seeing it. I watched Trish before reaching out and taking her hand in mine. Her eyes came back to the present, looking at me. She smiled at being caught.

"Where were you?"

"Dreaming"

"Its about me, isn't it?" I asked.

She nods.

"And in these daydreams, we're married, aren't we?" I push.

Her eyes get big with surprise.

"Maybe you dream we have kids." I venture.

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh." She said as the realization suddenly sunk home that I know. She placed her hand over her mouth.

Taking her hand I pull her to her feet and we stroll around the pond. Neither of us was talking, we were waiting for the other to begin. Already a couple of hours had passed. I decided to start the ball rolling. "Your mom said we need to talk this through and I've been avoiding it till now. It's only fair you know where I stand and I need to know what you're expecting."

Ever so briefly her eyes catch mine, then drop. "Ok." she said.

"So, do you love me, Trish?"

Her silence was deafening, I wait. We probably walk like this for 3 minutes and not a word spoken. Another couple had brought bread, tossing it to the ducks. The woman handed Trish a slice as we passed. Tearing off a corner, she throws it near a brown and green bird which snatches it up. Another minute passed and I wait.

Then, almost too quiet to be heard, "Yes. I do love you." Smiling, she looks at me.

"Mark?" she asks, and I know what's coming next. "Do you love me?"

Even knowing her question, I mumble and stumble for words. "Last night, I had a dream. In it I couldn't find you, you were gone. I woke up in a cold sweat. It scared me."

She waited.

My mind is in a fog and I search for words. "Do you remember that time on July 4th?" 

She nodded. "Yes."

By now I'm searching for words and not knowing what to say. "I think I told you that I wasn't looking for a girlfriend. And I wasn't. Then you asked if I COULD like you as a girlfriend. My reply was something like 'I easily could.' That was true, but I wasn't looking. Oh, Rats, this isn't going very well. I don't know what to say."

Gently, she places both her hands on my chest. "Just say it anyway you can."

I take her hands in mine and hold them close to me, looking into her eyes I feel drawn to those deep pools. Suddenly something clicks. I haven't been looking for a girlfriend, because she's been right in front of me. There hadn't been any search for someone to love, because she was here. It had been hidden by a failure to look at Trish as a woman. I'd thought of her as a child; daughter of my employer. The other night, our date to Homecoming, she was a high school girl who wanted a date and I was helping her wish come true. I'd never considered it as more, but Trish had. I was the dumb one. 

Like a puzzle the pieces fell into place and like a torrent my emotions were released. No longer is there any question in my mind. No longer do I have doubts. What I'd been running from, now I was running towards. Mentally I embraced this knowledge and all it entailed. I'd stepped through my fear and found I was walking in the sunshine of Trish's love. There was no turning back; heck I didn't want to turn back. 

Trish is patiently waiting, watching as the myriad of emotions cross my face. I'm smiling now and as our eyes meet, I feel like I'll drown in those shimmering pools of blue. "Trish," I confess," I love you. Oh God, I love you. I just never knew." 

She tucks her arms in, drawing closer and I envelop her with my arms. My hand is cradling her head and I stroke her hair, her head is against my shoulder. Slowly she and I rock back and forth, my fingers running through her hair. Over and over I'm saying, "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Our walk around the pond continues and we return to the bench seat. 

"Tell me about these daydreams you have?" I asked

She blushes. "It's been a dream of mine. Hoping some day we'd get married."

"But I haven't been very cooperative, have I?"

"Sometimes you'd indicate you liked me. Then you wouldn't. I was confused. Mom and I talked about you and once she suggested I should forget thinking of you as a boyfriend. So I did, and then you kissed me. Remember, in the milk house, on the 4th?" From no attention to that. What was I supposed to do?"

"Trish, guess I've been kinda dumb. When I first started working here, you were a young girl; daughter of my employer. In my mind, you didn't grow up, you remained a kid. It was fun working with you, it was enjoyable; you were enjoyable. Mentally and emotionally I never allowed it to become more. I couldn't because I worked for your folks. My heart wanted to get close to you, but my mind wouldn't let me. So I gave mixed signals."

I pause and Trish asked, "So?"

"I'm in love with you and I feel like I want to tell the whole world."

"Where do we go from here?" Trish asked.

Slowly I smile, then grin, and I laugh.

She answers her own question with another question. "A ring?"

"Do you want a ring?" I ask her.

"You haven't asked me yet."

Dutifully, but in all sincerity, I kneel, take her hands in mine and ask. "Patricia, will you marry me?"

"Yes I will. In a heartbeat."

Holding out her left hand, she asked, "What about that ring you mentioned a minute ago?"

"Want to go look for something now?"

Her answer was to wrap her arms around my neck and we kissed.

"I can't afford anything extravagant 'cause I am only a 'hired hand'."

She giggled, "I've had this love for you and dreamed some day we'd get married. It was a secret dream I didn't share with anyone, not even mom. I didn't believe it would happen, ever."

"You're Mom knew you loved me."

"Yeah, but she didn't know what all I was dreaming."

"Come on." I say. Walking back to my car, the sky looks the same, but something is different. My outlook has changed. I see things and want to share with someone else. Before, my thoughts were for myself. Now I want to voice my thoughts to Trish. It's almost without thinking, I'm talking and sharing ideas with her. 

48 hours ago, if someone had told me I'd be like this, I'd say they'd flipped. It's not that I fell in love with Trish, the fact is that I'd been in love with her for some time. I simply never knew it and it was revealed to me. I wasn't giddy with love for her, I was deliriously in love. 

We drove to a strip mall and browsed through the stores, looking. There was no possibility I could afford a diamond, and Trish understood. We located a Cubic Zircona that she liked. I had it sized, paid for it and we walked out of the store engaged.

For the rest of the day, we didn't do much. We walked and talked at the park, I took her to a restaurant and we talked some more. We were making up for lost time. Before we realized it, the evening had become late. 

"Do you think I should wake mom up and tell her?"

I smiled and then chuckled.

"What? What is so funny?"

"Yes, I think you should wake your mom up. But no, you won't need to tell her. If you were to take the ring off and hid it, she would still read your face and know. Your mother is one smart cookie."

Trish removed the ring, placing it into her purse. "Let's try." As she smiled.

Arriving home, Trish went to rouse her mom and I headed to the basement to turn in. It had been a long, event filled day and I wanted to get some rest. I was asleep, dreaming about Trish, when a soft knock was at the door. "Mark, can we come in?" Edith asked.

Still groggy, I mumble a 'Yeah' as I pull the covers over me.

Edith and Trish open the door and turn on the light. Edith finds a chair and Trish sits on the edge of the bed. Trish has the ring on her finger.

"You two kids certainly don't waste any time." she commented

Trish chimed in, "You were right, she guessed. She knew."

"I wanted to congratulate my new future son." Edith said as she grinned. "What are you planning now?"

I took this moment to tease them both. "Well, we had been thinking of waking up a Justice of the Peace to get married tonight and elope, but felt that it wouldn't be fair to you or the girls."

Trish's mouth dropped open, then saw the twinkle in my eyes.

Edith turned to Trish, then me, "You were thinking what? Don't you two even THINK about eloping. I wouldn't allow it."

I chuckled and then laughed out loud.

"I want to congratulate the two of you, I know it is late but this is such great news. The two girls will be jealous when they find out?" She said looking at me. "Come on you two, let's go to bed."

Waking later, I look at the clock, it's after 3am. I heard Edith upstairs moving about, getting ready to do the milking. I got dressed and headed to the barn. She was already letting the cows into the holding pen. "I thought you would still be asleep?"



Down on the Farm Ch. 05



"I couldn't sleep any more. Figured I'd help."

"Thanks, I can use the help. These old bones aren't what they used to be."

We worked together in silence for a while. I put the milking machines together and got the feed down while Edith moved them into the barn and cleaned their udders. With the cows in the stalls, we placed the cups on their teats. We both had been doing this work for a while when Edith asked, "What are you two's plans? Have you got that far?'

"We are not sure yet. I need to finish up this college year and get my degree. Trish might want to go to college."

"Smart move for you, but Trish really does not want college. She wants to have babies."

I looked at Edith, over the rump of a cow, "Do you know that for certain or is it because you want grand kids?"

"Both. Trish is not a real good student but she certainly loves children. I don't believe college life would suit her. A home and family would certainly tickle her pink. Of course, I would also like to have some grand kids, too." She continued, "So what are your personal plans going to be? How much thought have you put into this?"

"Edith, I really am not too certain. Once I get my degree, I will be looking for a job but there are no aspirations. Support for Trish will be my first concern." Something clicked in my mind. She certainly didn't ask these questions unless she was leading somewhere. "Okay, what do you have on our mind? Let's hear your idea."

She finished placing a milking machine and stood up, turning in my direction. "You're learning to read me, aren't you? Well, you know that ever since Bud's death, I have been thinking about what to do with the milking operation. With you around we have been able to maintain things which would give me time to consider all the options. Lately I have been strongly considering selling the business and also selling the farm. There are two considerations, who would want to buy the place and the business, and where would I and the girls live once it was sold. This farm is the only life that they have ever known. Moving to town doesn't sound too pleasing to me but it looks like we need to look for a buyer. With you and Trish planning on getting married, there is no way possible that the girls and I could keep things going."

"Hold on a second." I said. I quickly stooped down to position one of the machines on the cow nearest me. I knew what she was going to say and I needed to think this over. As I stood back up, I asked, "So who are you thinking about to purchase the dairy and farm?" I already knew but wanted her to say it.

"You and Trish."

Yup, my guess was right. "Go on. What are the details?"

"We could draw up a contract where the two of you could keep the business intact, live here on the farm, raise a family and I would receive a source of steady income to allow the girls and I to move into town."

Again, I was reading her like a book. This was exactly what I suspected . "It won't work, there are two things wrong with that idea." Purposely I stopped speaking. I wanted her to question me. I removed the milking machine and moved to the next, looking like I was busy.

"What two things?" she asked.

"There is no way on God's green earth that I would kick my news out into the street." I made like I was busy again and waited for her to ask the second reason.

"And the second reason?"

Inwardly I smiled, she was right on queue. "I couldn't handle it. I don't know the business. I know the work, but not the business aspect of it. So your idea falls apart and I don't think it would work." I had a counter proposition and wanted to see if she would guess or if she had another plan in mind. I waited while letting out several of the cows and letting others into the stalls. She remained silent while working. I could almost hear her thinking, but she stayed completely quiet. Ten minutes passed with no further conversation and I sensed an air of disappointment.

Finally I added, "At least the idea will not work, the way you mentioned."

Her movements in surprise startled the cow and she took a moment to calm her down. "And, so what idea do you have?"

She was looking right at me and I was grinning. "You are a little slow on the uptake, aren't you? I have been ahead of you for this whole conversation."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay spit it out, kid." She said good naturedly.

I was savoring this moment as long as I could. "You and the girls would not be happy moving away from here. You love it too much. I don't have a 'business mind' like you have. So my proposal would be this... you sell to Trish and me the farm and dairy. You and the girls stay in the house, Trish and I could fix up the basement and live there..."

"I do not like that arrangement." She interrupted.

"I am not finished." I wagged my finger at her. She remained silent and waited. "I am not very good with the business end, so I could hire you either as a business manager, or have you as a full partner. Us living in the basement would only be temporary, we would build our own house over there." I pointed in a general direction beside the existing house. "You would be closer to your grand kids, anyway."

Her eyes lit up on that last comment. "That sounds like a workable plan."

"One more thing, I need to talk to Trish about this business deal. I wouldn't want to do anything without her being in complete agreement."

For the remainder of the morning we pretty much worked in silence, each one in our thoughts. The cows were milked and the two of us worked at cleaning the equipment and sterilizing it when, without warning, Becky and Sam came bursting into the milk house. "Mother, Trish is wearing a......" They stopped when they saw me working beside their mom. Then catching their breath, "...a ring."

Edith looked over at me and rolled her eyes. She pointed with her eyes towards the girls to let me know that I was now on trial with them. I took my hands out of the water, drying them off and turned to face the girls.

Becky questioned "I thought I was your girlfriend?"

"You are," I answered. "And so is Sam."

"But you gave Trish a ring. How can we be your girlfriends when she is wearing a ring?"

"I cannot marry all three of you, can I? I can only choose one. Besides, I like the idea of having two new sisters and each of you would have me for a brother."

Becky and Sam looked at each other, not too sure of that arrangement.

"Come here you two." I held out my arms. They came closer and I hugged them dearly. You two can always be my girlfriends, it's that Trish and I want to get married. But you two will always be special. Always. Okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Said Sam as she squeezed me. 

I bent down and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. "You two head back to the house and get breakfast ready. I'm famished."

They both latched on to my arms and began pulling me with them. Edith saw this and said, "All three of you go get breakfast ready. I will be along in a few minutes."

The two of them half pulled me towards the house and I resisted only slightly. Once inside, I kicked off my dirty shoes and slipped out of the coat. "You two get breakfast on the table, I need to clean up." I was turning to head downstairs when Trish showed up in the hall. Her hair was a mess, her robe was hanging crooked, she looked like she had not slept much, but I sure thought she looked beautiful. Becky and Sam were watching us.

"I see that you didn't sleep much." She said.

"Couldn't, there was too much on my mind so I got up and helped your mom. Looks like you didn't sleep much either."

"Too excited, I guess." And she grinned from ear to ear with her dimples showing.

"Let me get cleaned up. I will be back in a couple minutes. Your mom will be coming in soon. And you two," looking at Becky and Sam, "better get the food cooked and table ready." Turning my eyes back to Trish, "I need to discuss something with you and see what you think. Get dressed and let me get cleaned up, then we can talk." I headed down to the basement and washed up and changing out of my smelly clothes. Edith was entering the house as I climbed the stairs. I walked over to Trish and put my arms around her. She snuggled in close. Sam and Becky were watching. 'No privacy for us' I thought.

"What did you want to talk about?" Trish asked.

Edith showed up then and we all sat at the table. I was doing the talking and everyone else listened. First I re-iterated the plan that Edith had offered earlier this morning. I was talking between bites and everyone else ate in silence, watching me. 

As I finished, Sam turned to her Edith, "Mom we don't want to move to town. We want to stay here with Mark and Trish."

My eyes were really on Trish and what I saw was a question mark. She wasn't sure of it either.

"Are you going to leave them hanging?" said Edith. "Tell them the rest."

"I turned her offer down. Flat." 

The look on Trish's face turned into a 'why?' "I suggested an alternative." Slowly I explained the details and how everyone could remain on the farm.

"Really?" asked Becky. "We get to stay here with you?"

Trish looked at me, asking, "We'd have our own house?"

Edith spoke. "Hold on everyone. I haven't agreed to accept Mark's proposal. There is a condition to be met before I'll make any agreement."

I knew what she was going to say, but simply held my tongue. She looked at both me and Trish. "Before I can accept, I need to know that there will be some grandchildren from this arrangement."

Trish turned a bright red while I grin. I placed my hand on her arm and moved it into her hand. She grasped it tightly.

"Well," asked Edith. "Is there an agreement here?"

Trish looked into my eyes and I nodded ever so slightly. There was an 'ok' look in her face before she dropped her eyes to the table.

"There is an agreement here." I answered. Trish squeezed my hand tighter at the same time that Becky began screaming with delight. Breakfast was quickly forgotten as Trish moved from her chair and sat in my lap.

"So when are you two getting married?" Sam asked.

"We haven't set a date yet. I only asked her yesterday."

Both of the younger girls moved closer to Trish and began to pester her about setting a date. Edith quickly stopped that. "Girls, leave them alone for a while. Pick up the table and wash the dishes. NOW!" Turning to us, "Go on you two, get out of here. You have a lot to talk about."

I grabbed her hand and the two of us were out the door, jumped into my car and headed down the road. The car seemed to head back to the park we had been to yesterday. We got out and walked hand in hand over to the pond and sat on one of the benches.

"The last couple of days have been full, haven't they?" she commented to me.

"Yeah, and your mom is correct when she said that we have a lot to talk about. I guess my question is whether you are completely 'okay' with the business deal with your mother? If you are not, we can back out or have it changed. I really did not mean to propose something without first talking to you. It's that your mom presented her suggestion first and I saw some problems with it, so I made a counter proposal. What do you think about it?"

"I think it is a great idea. I like it."

"Do you really want to be a farmer's wife? You know the hard work and pain that goes with it. There are the long hours, and we'd be tied to the dairy. Is that what you want? What about a college degree for you? This proposition does not leave any room for that."

She was quiet. "Mark, my question is this, what you want to do? Is this the kind of work you want to support a family? Cause I'm willing to forget about college, I'm okay with letting that go. I want to be with you, I want to make you happy."

"You'd put up with a smelly ol' dairy farmer?"

"If it's you, yes. And actually, I think you 'stink' nice." She teased.

"Are you telling me that you really want a home of your own, and kids of your own? You want to be a homemaker and a mother?"

Looking right at me she said, "Do you want children? We have not talked about kids. I DO want children, but only if you do too."

"I believe your mother has sealed that issue. She wants grandchildren and I am overjoyed with that idea. Most of all, I want you to be the happiest wife in the world. Speaking of being a wife, when do you want to get married?"

"Yesterday."

"That's not possible. What's your next suggestion?"

"The sooner the better."

"We could always elope." I tease. "Really I want to complete my college degree this coming May, and I definitely want you to graduate from high school. That would mean a June or July wedding. Your thoughts?"

"I wish it could be sooner, but that is probably the best."

"Trish?"

"Yeah," she smiled.

"Who do you want to walk you down the aisle?"

In a flash the smile left her face. Her father was gone would miss the most exciting day of her life. After a minute she whispered, "Uncle Peter, I guess."

We continued talking about our future; plans for the wedding, plans for our home, plans for a family, and plans for the dairy farm. It was getting towards noon when we stood up and walked back to the car. "I don't want to go home yet." She mentioned.

"No problem, let's get something to eat and then go to the mall."

We ate a quick lunch at McDonalds and headed out to the mall. We had no particular plans and simply found ourselves walking through stores, talking. At times we simply held hands, other times our arms were around each other. I gave her a quick squeeze and she smiled. Man, she was beautiful. I bought her a new dress and a sweater and she changed into them and we continued walking.

It was late afternoon when we returned home and Edith came in from chores. "You going to share with the rest of us what you're planning?"

"We eloped." Trish said with a straight face.

The look on Edith's face was priceless; then she shouted, "PATRICIA LYNN!"

"I'm sorry mom. I didn't mean to upset you. It was a joke." Trish said.

Edith backed up against the kitchen counter and gave Trish a dirty look.

"That is not a joking matter, Trish. Don't do it again."

Trish stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her mom. "I'm sorry mom."

Looking over Trish's shoulder, Edith asked again, "So what are you two planning?"

"A wedding in June or July, then give you about 8 grandkids as fast as we can." I answer.

Trish burst out laughing and Edith only said, "Oh you two."

Sam and Becky came in from outside so we sit down. The small kitchen table was crowded as Trish and I held the family conference. We mentioned our decision for a wedding in June or July and running the dairy.

"July would be better." Sam interjects.

"Why July?" her mom asks.

"So Mark won't be switching teams."

"Huh?"

"You know. The married and unmarried ball game for the 4th."

"Let Mark and Trish decide when. Don't use this rivalry to be making plans."

"Do you know of a good lawyer to work with the business part?" I ask Edith.

"That's a good thought. Bud and I have a family lawyer who can either help us or direct to someone who can."

We talked together for a while longer before we stopped for supper.

Christmas was three weeks off and holiday season festivities were in the air. I helped decorate their tree and string lights. Their church had several events scheduled and Trish made certain I went to them all. Church had not been important in my life and there was always some reason which kept me from going regularly. Up to this point, I had attended maybe half the Sunday services. Trish encouraged me to be more regular, but I did not see the importance.

The Sunday right before Christmas, Trish was working with me doing the morning chores. She wanted to go to services however I was thinking about staying home to work on the milk compressor, which had stopped working. I was kneeling beside this unruly piece of equipment, removing the cover and pulling the belt off. Trish came up behind me and placed her hand in the middle of my back. "You're not going are you?"

I looked into her questioning face and could see disappointment. "We won't be able to milk this afternoon unless this is running." I gently protest.

She doesn't say anything and turns to walk away. I am frustrated, I know she wants me to go to services and I also know that milking cannot be done with out this compressor. 

"Trish." I say. She stops but doesn't look at me.

"Trish." I say again. She turns and watches me.

"Darling, what's so important about church?"

Walking back towards me, she sits on top of the tool box, after closing the lid. "Church by itself is not what's important." She starts. "It's the God we worship, He is important." As I don't say anything, she continues, "I worship God and one way I do that is by going to church." 

Not feeling comfortable with the direction this conversation is going, I ask, "So what about Christmas? Why is that important?"

Waiting a moment before answering, she replies, "Why do you want to marry me?"

"Because I love you. I want to be with you."

"We celebrate Christmas, because that is when God, came to earth as a man. He loves us and wants to be with us."

For some reason, this entire discussion is unnerving to me and I don't know why.

Trish had been watching me, now says, "You are very uncomfortable, aren't you?"

My attention is fully wide awake and I wonder how she knows. "Yeah I am."

"Okay," and she stands up and acts as though to walk out the door.

"Patricia?" I take a deep sigh and say, "Let's go to church. Together."

She smiles broadly and her dimples are very prominent. Perhaps I can get the compressor fixed after we get back from church. This is important to her, and I want to know why.

The shower is taken quickly, clothes are changed, and together we go to church. The service had started and congregation is larger than I had seen before, so we slipped into a couple seats near one side. The music from the choir reflects the Christmas season and someone sings a solo. 

The Pastor gave his message next and the topic surprised me. Normally, I would think, he would speak about the shepherds, the manger, the Wise Men, and baby Jesus. Instead of the birth of the Christ Child, he spoke about the death of Jesus. That's odd, I thought. Before, when I had heard him speak, it was easy to follow the topic he had chosen, and today was no different. The main point of his sermon was that Jesus had to be born, so that he could die. A question that came to my mine as he spoke, was 'Why would God want to die?' That did not make sense to me. Sitting there, I could vaguely remember the church my parents to me to as a child. They had talked about Jesus being 'love' and we were supposed to love everyone. The two ideas did not match, they did not make sense.

The service was over after a hymn had been sung and everyone moved towards the doors. Holding Trish's hand I lead her through the crowd towards the Pastor as he shakes hands of everyone and bids them a Merry Christmas. Folks are busy talking to others as the line moves forward. Trish is in front and shakes his hand first, when he spies the ring on her left hand. Before he could say anything I ask, "Why did God want to die? I thought Jesus was love."

Without missing a beat, he replies, "That's a good question. How about I stop by for a visit tomorrow afternoon?"

"We'll be milking. If we can talk over the rumps of the cows, you're welcome to come."

"I'll be there." He says. "Merry Christmas."

Trish has stopped to talk to some friends and I move on out the door. Joe is standing there and greets me with a 'Merry Christmas'. "Say," he says, "What's this ugly rumor that you and Trish are getting married?"

I admit that it is not a rumor and we are planning a wedding for this summer.




Down on the Farm Ch. 05



"Hey, can you delay it till after the 4th? We gotta keep you on our team, man."

"The date hasn't been finalized yet, but we'll keep your request under advisement."

"I can still feel your smoking fast ball. My hand was bruised for a week."

I wish him a Merry Christmas and move towards the car. Trish catches up and we climb in. "I didn't think you'd feel comfortable asking him a question like that." she stated.

"You believe it's important, and I guess I want to know why."

"If you felt uncomfortable this morning by what I was telling you, I promise that you will be awkward talking with him."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The topic you have asked about, will make you feel uncomfortable. Just be expecting it."

"Why, have I said something wrong?"

"On the contrary. What you've asked, is the right question."

Now I'm confused.

"Mark," Trish informed, "ask your questions and you'll receive honest and open answers. Understand that it will be spiritual information which affects each of us personally. That's why you may feel uncomfortable. Have an open mind and an open heart."

We arrived home so I quickly changed and walked to the barn to work on the compressor. Trish said she could bring a couple sandwiches if I wanted. "That'd be great." 

The tools and parts are as I'd left them. I pick up a screwdriver to remove the cover from the pressure switch. Immediately I see the problem; a wire has come loose from a contact. It is put in place, the screw tightened and cover replaced. When the switch is flipped the machine roars to life. Problem solved, I thought. I put everything back together and am putting the tools away as Trish returns, carrying the sandwiches. 

From her quizzical look I respond, "Loose wire. It's fixed. Didn't take long, did it?"

The next day was business as usual, in other words something was always happening. First one of our high producers got mastitis. That means she's out of production for several days and that hurts. One of the calves has an eye infection and the vet was called. And the fence on the back quarter needed fixed. A couple of cows were seen reaching across to sample the neighbor's winter wheat. Anyway my mind was elsewhere as the pastor pulled into the yard.

Edith greeted him and directed him to the milking parlor. Trish was with the vet, looking at the calf and Becky was helping wash down the cows. I wiped my hand before shaking his. "Hope you don't mind the noise and activity while we talk?"

"Not at all. I helped Bud a time or two, so I know what's gotta be done."

I invite him towards the back and start milking. "Ok, answer my question. I'll listen and stop you if need be."

He begins talking and I listen. The main thrust of his words were that all men have turned from God. No exceptions. God wants people to talk with Him and He wants to talk with us. The problem is sin, this separates us from God and God's law requires a sacrifice for this sin. Because of his love for us, God was willing to send Jesus to pay that price. That's why He had to die.

He stops at this point as I bring in a fresh lot of cows. "So what's this 'love your fellowman stuff?" I ask.

"Jesus was speaking to Christians about how He wants them to live."

"So we're all Christians, right?"

"Mark, what is a Christian?"

"Someone who believes in God."

"Yes a Christian does believe in God. But what is a Christian?"

"Someone who goes to church, reads the Bible and prays."

"Yes a Christian does that. But what is a Christian?"

I am confused so respond, "You tell me."

That's when he started quoting things from the Bible and I got uncomfortable. He was making it personal. To make it short, he told me that Christian is someone who has a personal relationship with Christ. Then he asked if I had one. Heck, I didn't know. 

"Mark?"

I turned at Trish's voice.

"Do you remember that I loved you a long time before you realized it? That's like Christ love for us. At first we don't know it. Later Mom told you about my love, but you weren't ready. Then on that one day you accepted my love, you received it and our relationship really began. In a sense, that's how God's love is for us. We have to admit to Him we've done wrong, and accept His offer and have a personal relationship with Him."

The pastor continued, "If you feel uncomfortable, its because you are being asked to talk to God, who's Holy and you're not. He wants a relationship with you, but is waiting for you to ask Him."

What they said made sense, but I was all torn up inside. "So what do I have to do?"

"The same thing you told me that day. And that you want to start a relationship with Him. When you do, you become a Christian, a member of God's family."

So I did, right there, right then. I didn't feel much different, just a sense of relief. Inwardly I promised Him I'd keep my word and to harm no one.

Pastor added, "You should tell someone of this decision. Plus talk to God through the day. You talk to Trish, talk to God also. Nothing fancy, just talk; out loud or silently, it doesn't matter."

Shortly after this he had to leave, but promised to talk to me more later on. Trish and Becky hadn't said anything but they were smiling. We finished up the milking and other chores before heading to the house. 

Edith was preparing supper and ask what he had said. I told her and mentioned my decision. She walked up to me, wrapped her arms around me and said "Welcome home, Mark."

Things were no different around the farm, but I did find my self talking to God throughout the day. It seemed natural, so I did it. Also Christmas was important now, not just a holiday. As weeks would pass I discovered my interest in attending church. Before, I'd done it because Trish or because the family went. Now I wanted to go to learn.

The Christmas holidays came and went with January showing itself on the calendar. Edith, Trish and I had talked to a lawyer about the sale of the farm and dairy and an agreement was worked out. Edith didn't want to be tied to the business and decided to work as a business administrator. If in the future she were to ever remarry or want to leave, a separation would be easier. 

It was January 26th and I remember looking up from my work to see Chuck drive up to the milk house. Chuck was the local milk inspector who would visit about every three weeks. Even though it was always unannounced all the local dairy farmers knew close to when he would appear on our doorsteps. He stepped out of his truck and I greeted him. Over the past few months I'd come to know him well. He carried his checklist on a clipboard and silently began his inspection. As we always received above average scores, I wasn't concerned. He would often point out something that needed improvement, which I would always do. Today was no different and he passed along the check off list with a couple recommendations.

That's when he said, "Mark, the milk company will be closing down at the end of this year."



Down on the Farm Ch. 06



It was January 26th and I remember looking up from my work to see Chuck drive up to the milk house. Chuck was the local milk inspector who would visit about every three weeks. Even though it was always unannounced all the local dairy farmers knew close to when he would appear on our doorsteps. He stepped out of his truck and I greeted him. Over the past few months I'd come to know him well. He carried his checklist on a clipboard and silently began his inspection. As we always received above average scores, I wasn't concerned. He would often point out something that needed improvement, which I would always do. Today was no different and he passed along the check off list with a couple recommendations.

That's when he said, "Mark, the milk company will be closing down at the end of this year."

That caught my attention real quick.

"It's been loosing money and the owners are considering selling to a corporation in Kansas City."

"So where are the local farmers to sell our milk?" I ask.

"Don't know. This definitely will put some of them under. You've got the largest herd around, so you could likely get some hauler, but it'd be costly. This isn't good news and I'm supposed to let everyone know."

"We have till the end of this year? Is that right?"

"Yeah, that'll allow 11 months to plan. Company had fought hard to stay in business. There simply isno't enough milk around here to make a profit. The owners figured if there were a couple more herds locally, they could make it. But with the cost of starting up, no one'll be doing that. Looks like the dairy business around here's going to die out. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

We talked for another hour about conditions, prices, markets and business. It was close to noon when he pulled out our drive. If the milk company closes its doors it'll put a huge dent in the income for Edith. There'd be no way Trish and I could make a 'go' of the farm alone. It's the dairy that was the money maker. Slowly I walked to the house. Our whole world was going to collapse and we could do nothing about it.

I walked in the door and Trish came bounding towards me to give me a kiss. She looks at my face and knows something is wrong. "We fail the inspection?"

"Wish that were all. Looks like we're going out of business before we even get started."

Trish stops cold and is watching my 'long' face. Edith heard the last comment and was standing in the kitchen door. "What'd you say?"

Slowly I explained what Chuck had shared. Edith didn't say anything, but then, she didn't need to. All she and Bud had worked for over these past several years would be gone. No one would buy the dairy, and the small farm couldn't provide income to support any of us. The dairy operation was what made this business profitable. The three of us sat around the kitchen table and talked. It wasn't happy talk, it was talk about the death of an industry. The milk company provided jobs for many folks, plus keeping scores of farms in the 'black'. We had a dairymen's association which met once a quarter. Most of the men ran small herds of 20 cows. There were a couple who ran 30+ head, while Edith's was the largest by far. Right now we milked 78 cows. Edith pulled out some business records and did some figuring on paper. When the milk company closed, we'd need to hire a hauler to carry our milk to market. That would add a sizable cost to the business and in effect eat all the profit we were making. We'd have to shut down.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I ask "What time is it?"

"One o'clock." Trish volunteers.

"I'm going to town. Want to come along?"

"Where're you going?" Edith asks.

"To talk to the milk company. Are you coming?"

"No, I'm staying here."

Trish and I get up and are walking out the door, when Edith pipes up. "Changed my mind. Think I'll tag along."

"Better tell the girls to start the chores, in case we don't make it back in time."

Edith turns around and goes to Sam's room. That done, the three of us jump in the pickup and are down the road. "What made you change your mind and decide to ride?" I asked Edith.

"You."

"I didn't say anything?"

"You didn't have to. Good luck seems to follow you and I want to see where this is going."

"We're going to need more than good luck on this problem. We're going to need a miracle."

Lost in our own thoughts we ride in silence the rest of the way. I pull into the parking lot and the three of us walk into the office. The phone is ringing and I hear one of the ladies explain to the caller that the rumor is true, the milk company will be closing by year's end. I figure Chuck had told a couple other farmers and they'd called other members of the association. Now everyone was calling here to verify.

Edith spoke to the receptionist and asked to talk to the owner, Mr. Johnson. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, we don't."

"Just a minute, let me ask if he can see you." She lifts her handset and speaks a few words, listens a moment, then places it back in the cradle. "Can you give him ten minutes? He can talk with you then."

We agree and take a seat on the chairs. I pick up a magazine and look at the lead article. Some farmer in Wisconsin had just purchased a new herringbone system and was able to turn a larger profit. I'd heard of them but didn't know anything, so was busy reading when we were called to enter the office.

We are ushered in and are greeted by Mr. Johnson. "Edith, it's good to see you again. Mark, how are you doing? I heard that you and Trish are going to be married this summer."

Mr. Johnson was in his 50's, was showing a bit of a 'belly' but otherwise looked fit. What amazed me was that he knew us all by name, even though I'd only met him once. He took a special interest in his suppliers. He shook our hands and invited us to take a seat, which we do. "How can I help you?" He asked. Then he changed gears, "I suppose you're here about the news."

"Yeah, I heard from Chuck, this morning." I said, taking the lead. "What's happening that you have to shutdown?" I asked.

"It's the proverbial 'price cost' squeeze. The price of fuel jump, the power company raised their rates, last year the Union wanted extra benefits, and milk prices have been inching lower. All of this means I'm not making any money. In addition, two farmers will be selling out this year plus Mr. Peterson is old and wants to retire. I no longer can make it. If there were a 50% increase in production I could move into the 'black' column. But that'd mean two or three new dairies. You know as well as I do, that'll not happen in this part of the country. Oh, yeah, there are new government inspection regulations that will cost me a bundle too."

"You just going to close your doors?" Edith asked.

"Unless I can sell. But the only interested buyer is in Kansas City. I've talked to them and the price he's offered me is a mere pittance of what this company is worth. It'd cost me more to sell, than to just shut down. I had a meeting with the workers here today and told them the news. Everyone's still in shock."

"If you close, that'll be a sizable portion of the community with out work. Folks will leave. Only the college and the plastics plant will be the large employers around here." Edith commented.

"Sorry Edith, I don't have a choice. If there were another option, I just don't see it."

We chatted a while longer, then rose to leave. He thanked us for stopping by, we shook and left. On the way home I was silent, thinking. Trish was downcast and Edith was watching me. We reached home before Becky and Sam had started milking, I asked them to go ahead and start, I'd be out in a bit.

"Edith, do you have that annual report from the milk company? And where is that association pamphlet? It was around here the other day."

She dug under a pile of newspapers, retrieving the information I was requesting. Taking a pencil, I began scrawling some numbers and added up the figures. "Mark, what're you doing?" Trish asked.

"Leave him alone, Trish. He's working on a plan." Edith said. "Go help your sisters with the chores. We'll be out in a bit."

Trish dutifully got her coat on and went to the barn.

"What're you thinking?" Edith asked. "You're thinking of something."

I looked up from my work and held her gaze. "Give me a minute." Returning to the figures, I add up the numbers and look at the results. It was a long shot, a real long shot. "You'll not like this, Edith." I finally comment.

"Try me."

"You turn over the deed of the farm to me, and then you and I become full partners with the dairy. All this with no cost." I stopped.

"You're right, I don't like it." She paused. "But that's not all, is it?"

"No. There are a large number of pieces and they all have to come together. If one piece fails, the plan will tumble like a house of cards."

"Let me hear it." She encourages.

"There are a lot of parts, and there is no control over any of them, except our piece. It's the largest one, but it requires everything to be agreed upon."

"I'm listening."

"First, you would have to give Trish and me the farm at no cost. Next, I would need to get a business loan of $500,000, maybe more, and would double the size of the herd with an improved milking parlor, new equipment, upgrades, etc. This would change it from a family farm, to a business and it won't be easy. Next, I figure each member of the association would have to increase their herds by an average of 3 cows. Some couldn't afford that, but others may be able to pick up the difference. From our meeting today, Mr. Johnson indicated that if, and its a big IF, he had an increase of 50% supply of milk he'd be in the black. By these figures the increase would be nearer 70% which gives a cushion for unknown factors. Also he'd have to agree to a fixed price for our milk for 24 months. That can be dangerous as his selling price will fluctuate. The Union would also have to agree to a wage freeze and benefits cut, better would be a wage cut. Here are my figures."

"Gosh almighty, Mark. You're asking for a miracle." Edith commented as she examined the papers.

"Yeah, I know. Probably won't work anyway. Just an idea I had." With that I left and returned to the cows.

Trish met me at the barn door. The business part she didn't fully comprehend but the loss of the dairy was clear in her thinking. "So what's going to happen now?" 

"Our dairy farm shuts down and your mom looses the farm."

"What about us?" she asked wondering about the wedding. 

I had an urge to tease but suppressed it. "Our wedding plans will stay the same but what we do or where we go is up for grabs."

The chores were completed with relative silence and we trudged back to the house.

The next several days were routinely performed. I attended classes, however without enthusiasm and farm work was carried out. What was the purpose? Edith called a number of other dairymen to learn their status or strategy. She also called the lawyer as our plans were changing.

"Mark?" Edith called.

I turned to face her where she sat in the living room. "Yeah?" I responded.

"I think your idea can work."

Trish came up beside me and I put my arm around her. I didn't say anything.

"Come here. Let me show you. I've made a couple adjustments but otherwise it's the same."

Trish and I took a seat beside her, she handed 'plan' to me. What Edith had done was itemize events to what I'd shared and put it into an organized manner. There were some highlighted points and notes added to explain more clearly. Edith is talking and I'm listening.

"I talked to the lawyer and he thinks its 'off the wall'. Its legal but whether all would be agreeable, that's the point." She continued, "If we were to send a copy of this plan to everyone on this list," she held in her other hand, "they could offer their input. We'd have to sell them on the idea."

I still haven't said anything but am thinking. Trish takes the papers and comments, "Mom, you'd give us the farm? That doesn't leave you with anything."

"Yes it would. This whole plan is a gamble. If it were to work, I think my son would make things right. Besides I want to be a full partner with the two of you in this dairy business. If it's to work, all of us will be fully involved plus we'll have to work hard."

"Why do you have to give us the farm?" Trish asked.

For the first time I spoke. "Two reasons; to obtain a loan, the bank'll want collateral. Second the bank cannot come after your mom if the plan fails. With my name on the deed, it's me they come after."

Turning to Edith, "Lets call a meeting of everyone involved and present the plan. All parties could have input."

"What if they don't agree?" Trish asked.

"The milk company closes its doors, the farmers sell out, and the community looses through lost jobs and lost revenue. Nothing would be changed from the current status. On the other hand, should we be able to convince them of the potential, we could all come out winners."

"We're taking the largest gamble, Mark." said Edith.

"I know. And we have the most to loose."

"And a lot to gain." Trish finished. "So where do we go from here?"

Edith and I looked at each other. "Mr. Johnson." We said in unison.

The next morning we had the three girls finish up chores while the two of us went to visit the milk company. Mr. Johnson was in and we were shown into his office. "It's nice to see you again. How can I be of service today?"

"What would it take to keep you in business?" I asked, getting right to the point.

His ready answer told me he'd thought this through very thoroughly. "A 50% increase in the milk supply plus some pressure off my debts."

Looking at Edith and smiling, I turned back to him. "If we could come up with a plan which would guarantee at least that much milk, maybe more, and get the Union to release the burden of the benefits increase, would that suffice?"

Mr. Johnson appeared to be a very genial man; but at that moment I had his full and rapt attention. "And just how would you accomplish this?"

Edith removed the plan report from the folder and slid it across the desk. He opened and started reading. I watched his face which became very animated as he read. He read it through completely and re-read it a second time. Removing his glasses he looked at us. "You're willing to take this gamble?"

"Yes we are, sir."

"This plan could be carried out without the price lock on milk."

"Maybe, But we won't proceed without it. Everyone has to sacrifice something. We're taking the largest chance and if the price of milk doesn't remain steady for the next two years we won't have the ability to become profitable. Otherwise we'll become bogged in debt and the end will be the same. You'll gain in two ways. First you stay in business. Second there is an extra 20% cushion in supply."

He nodded, knowing the reasoning was sound. "What about the union? Think we can talk them into their concession?"

He'd changed pronouns from 'you' to 'we'. "If they don't, their members become unemployed by the end of the year. By agreeing, they gain like everyone else."

"So what do we do next? It's your plan, you should present it."

"Fair enough. Do you have a room large enough to hold everyone?"

He nodded.

"Good. I want you to call a meeting and send a copy of this plan to all involved. We'll have our lawyer attend to answer any legal questions. Along with this information, include a summary of the up sides and the down sides. Here's the kicker, if everyone doesn't agree, then we back out. It's all or nothing. Notice in the plan, there are some things which are negotiable and they're plainly marked. Bottom line, I need the complete support of everyone involved. When I apply for the loan, we'll need full agreement by all parties."

"Son, I like your pluck. The two of you are willing to go out on a limb to help."

Our discussion lasted another half hour before we left. He promised to schedule a meeting by the end of February. This would generate a lot of talk, we were sure.

Driving home, Edith embarrassed me. "Mark, there's something about you that amazes me. It's not luck, but I don't know what else to call it. Everything you do, prospers. You can come up with the strangest ideas, yet they work, and they're good. I'm proud of you. I'm also happy you and Trish will be getting married."

"This plan isn't working yet."

"But it will. You wait and see. I'm trusting God. It will."

Arriving home, Trish met us and gave me a kiss through the car window. "Amy's having trouble walking. I think you should look at her."

Edith follows us and we hear Sam and Becky arguing about something as we draw near. They stop when they see us and we turn our attention to the cow. I walk behind her and urge her to walk around. Couldn't tell for certain but figure she slipped on a patch of wet concrete and was strained. "Put her in the pen, over there. Let's see how she is by morning."

Edith opened the gate and slowly walked her in.

"So what's your disagreement about?" I ask the two.

Becky answers. "We're getting tired of doing the chores all the time while you go to town."

Trish started to answer as I hold up my hand. 

"What's the real problem Becky?"

"I want to be the Maid of Honor." She whined.

"We haven't made any decisions yet." Trish answered. "Becky, you'll be in the wedding, and you'll have an important part. We haven't made all the plans. Please don't argue, you two."

Two weeks passed and many visitors drove into our drive. Trish, Edith and I would often be in conversation. When other options were suggested we listened and raised questions to their ideas. A couple days before the meeting, a different visitor showed on our doorstep. The local TV station had heard of the milk company's closure, had received a copy of our idea and now wanted to know more about us. Edith deferred them to me and then went inside the house. She had no inclination to be filmed for a news broadcast.

I greeted the team, a photographer running the camera and the interviewer. Being wary, I agreed to answer their questions off camera and they could film the barn, cows, and milking parlor, but none of us. This wasn't exactly what they wanted, but in the end they were willing. He'd read the proposal and wanted to zero in on the improvements we wanted to do. Giving a general idea, I explained we wanted to double the size of the herd, build a new milk house, milking parlor and all new equipment. The parlor would have a double 8 herringbone; the cows would be divided into two herds and special attention given to diet. All of this would require excellent records so a computer system would be part of the new operation.

The next concern I was asked, dealt with the union. How could I possibly expect them to accept a reduction in benefits or wages? At this point I halted the interview and explained, if this question was to be included in the final report, my answer would have to be included in its entirety and unedited. This raised their eyebrows and they attempted to get me to relent. I held firm, even when they threatened to not run the story at all. "We're not the ones that make the decision on what would be included." Was their argument.

"Then simply inform those who do make the decision, that this is only way I will agree."

In the end they accepted my request. My explanation went much the same I had given to Mr. Johnson. Everyone involved with this proposal would have to give up something. In the case of the union, they'd received a tremendous raise in benefits this past year and according to the proposal they'd have to sacrifice this increase.

"What if they refuse?" I was asked.

"Then about 750 people will be out of work by the end of the year. I'm taking a tremendous gamble and will be bearing the greatest potential for loss. If this plan is to succeed, everyone must make a sacrifice. Everyone; no exceptions." 




Down on the Farm Ch. 06



The interview was concluded and they left. It was time for milking. Trish came up behind me and put her arms around my waist. I turned around and for the next several minutes we were in a close embrace. "Alright you two." Said Sam. "Let's get busy. There's work to be done, ya know." Playfully I swatted her behind.

With the chores done, the five of us gathered around the TV to watch the news. The younger girls were interested in hearing about the farm. I wanted to see how the information would be presented. The public view would be critical, so it was especially important that the proposal be viewed in a positive light. I figured this story would be a human interest item; however the station chose to make it the lead. The community would be loosing a long established business because of adverse market pressures and a large number of people would be loosing their jobs by the end of the year. However an enterprising young farmer was offering to step in and save this company from financial ruin with a daring proposal. A shortened version of the plan's details was given and this would be in exchange for concessions from various groups in the area. The sound bite of the question and my complete answer was presented. A brief pause in my voice was edited out, but this didn't affect what was told. Then the reporter gave some commentary about how the plight of the workers could be affected if the Union were to vote in favor of the proposal.

All in all, I felt it was a fair piece and the viewers would have the key points of the plan. What I was completely unprepared for was the attention we received the next day. A national network picked up on the story and appeared on our door step in morning. I was in the milk house when they drove in so Trish greeted them. She was courteous and answered their initial questions on camera. By the time I realized they were there, they,d gotten the basic outline of our plan and were looking for more details and pictures. I exited the milk house and shook hands with them. The difference between the local station and the national news network was huge. The local team was willing to work within my recommendations. The national team tried to push us around to create a story to their liking. This was a three person team; the interviewer was a lady and sound and camera were run by two men. Quickly I explained I wanted the story to be told in a specific way and either they agree, or the interview would be concluded at this point. They were professionals and, I felt, tried to intimidate me for my young years. I held my ground and explained the main points which were identical to the ones given the local station. I did however allow them to keep Trish's on camera interview and include a short camera session for myself. Otherwise, no people were to be filmed. The barn, cows, and equipment were fair game for the camera; plus I would answer any and all questions. Eventually they acquiesced.

That evening, again the news was a central focus point for our family. The network news anchor presented a brief 90 second human interest story. Both Trish and I were featured for a few seconds as our plan was given national news attention. "How does it feel to be famous?" I asked Trish while my arm was around her waist.

"Not too bad." She answered. "But that other guy, I think he's cute."

Edith looked over at us. "We got a lot of coverage. Think it'll affect the outcome?"

"I only want to ensure the whole story is presented. That's key. The outcome is a decision everyone has to choose for themselves."



Down on the Farm Ch. 07



The following night, we started milking a bit early and Edith agreed to remain till all was finished. Then she would come to the meeting a few minutes after it was scheduled to start. Trish and I went early and talked to Mr. Johnson. A room had been arranged an we only awaited for folks to arrive. Because of the media attention from the previous days, it soon was evident that the scheduled room would not be large enough. He requested a number of his workers to setup chairs just inside the loading dock. The area was much larger and would accommodate a bigger crowd. By the time everyone had arrived, all chairs were taken and it was standing room only.

Mr. Johnson started the meeting and explained that only those who were directly affected by the proposal would be allowed to speak. Opportunity would be given for comments and questions. He introduced me and I began.

"Folks, I want to lay some groundwork here. These are the facts as they stand. 1. The milk company will be closing at the end of the year. 2. About 750 people would be loosing their jobs at the same time. 3. The milk producers association would be going out of business. 4. All of the milk producers were planning to sell or quit. 5. Information I'd received, maybe 15 families would move away from the community. 6. The local economy would be adversely affected. These are the facts and this meeting is to discuss a proposal to save the businesses just mentioned and keep the jobs and community intact.

"I believe everyone involved has received a copy of the proposal. Is there anyone who is involved and did not receive one?"

Everyone was quiet. "Very well, let us proceed with an explanation."

For the next 30 minutes I spoke in detail, the requirements, and concessions. In the middle, Edith entered and sat next to Trish. I concluded with this comment.

"That presents the proposal. I want it understood, for this to work, everyone has to agree, in total. Otherwise it'll be withdrawn. No coercion is being used. The plan speaks for itself and the alternative speaks for itself. Questions?"

The discussion was lively, but nothing new was presented. Mostly, I noticed, individuals or groups were trying to find a way to be excluded from the sacrifices required. I expected this and held firm. The Union representatives had held back until this moment, when they vigorously tried to get me to remove them from the change in the contract.

"Sir," I stated. "The proposition stands as stated. You are free to take this to your members and let them vote on it. You can make your recommendation to your members as you see fit. However, tell them this. Either they accept it as was presented, along with everyone else, or they lose their jobs by the end of the year."

Speaking to everyone. "Understand, I will not modify the plan in any fashion. Only the items open to negotiation can be modified. Nothing else."

"Aren't you being selfish?" someone from the audience asked.

"If you mean by helping 750 people keep their jobs, I'll let you answer that."

"Aren't you going to get the greatest benefit from the plan?"

"Perhaps, but I also have the greatest potential for failure. If someone here wants to take that risk, please speak up now."

Silence.

"Why should we trust you?" a voice was heard.

"You don't. You're free to reject it."

The Milk Producers Association representative stood. "How are the members supposed to allocate the number of cows to be increased? By the figures given, you're asking an additional 96 cows be added to our herds."

"That is entirely up to your members. I am a member, but will refrain from influencing anything pertaining to this decision. All I request is a contract be drawn which will guarantee that number be added to your memberships herds, apart from mine. If any member decides to go out of business, others must pick up the slack. Look, everyone, this is a gamble. To make this work we all have to put forth the effort."

"What are the legal requirements if we agree?" a woman asked.

"Contracts can be drawn up and signed at any time. A section will be included which will state if any other contract is not signed by the participant, all other contracts will be void. To make any contract valid, all must be dutifully signed."

I paused a moment before stating the next item. "I am imposing an arbitrary deadline for agreement or rejection. It's necessary for me to know the decision before April 30th. By that date, I want to know which direction to proceed. Do I obtain a loan, or not. If we're to move forward, construction needs to begin and we need to increase our herd. Equipment needs to be ordered. Etc, etc. That gives about 2 months to decide and plan. The decision is yours. Thank you."

When all discussion was over, Mr. Johnson closed the meeting and thanked everyone for coming.

Trish, Edith and I stayed behind to talk with various individuals. Mr. Johnson questioned, "Well, how do you think it went?"

"Good. If nothing else, they learned I'm not going to budge. The Union may drag their feet. Time will tell."

It was late when we got home and the emotions of the meeting had not worn off. The three of us stayed up and talked.

For two months we settled into a general routine. I had to apply my energies to keep my grades up. All this activity and my time with Trish was taking its toll. My concentration had dropped. Another project was to create a business plan. Edith and I put our heads together and came up with one. We had it checked out by our lawyer and he gave a 'thumbs up'. 

Mr. Johnson was the first to sign his contract; it was a 'business saver' decision. The Milk Producers Association had also agreed to sign and was working out the details with their membership. A couple farmers were quitting and negotiations were in progress to transfer their operations to others. The contract was still pending but had been verbally agreed upon. Only the details remained.

I heard through the grapevine the Union would hold a vote in mid April. On the record, they were not in favor of any benefit cuts. But the membership knew, all jobs were on the line. 

The truckers were not part of the Union and had left it up to each driver to sign or not sign. Currently all had submitted completed contracts except one and he was on medical leave.

Mr. Johnson had sub-contracted some of his work to other companies, who were neither Union nor part of the milk company. He couldn't operate without them so they were given the option to create an addendum to their contracts, agreeing to my plan, or sever their relationship with him. Legally this was tricky. Three of these were under discussion.

Up to mid April, no one had asked where I planned to obtain a loan. Except for this current issue, no local lending institution knew who I was and my 'youth' would be against me. However I had an 'ace' I was about to play. Events were looking favorable to the plan being accepted. "Mark, who's going to give you this loan?" Trish asked as the family sat at the supper table.

"My dad." I said without looking up.

Immediately the talk around the table stopped.

"Your father has this much money?" Edith queried.

"No. He's on the board of directors with the local bank back home." Anticipating their questions, I continued. "They do a lot of loans locally, helping folks start new businesses. I've been in communication with dad about this plan and he's prepared to go to bat for us. That is, if we can meet certain requirements. You know, collateral, business plan, and things like that. The application form has been filled out, all except the amount and we have the business plan ready to go. What remains is an itemized list of anticipated costs and the support of the local community."

"You certainly have a good grasp on the business end of things. Did you learn all this from you're father?" Edith asked.

"Dad would often talk about some of the applications they received, requesting loans. Over the years, I picked up on the main ideas they look favorably on. Agriculture with a solid plan is one of them."

"You could be doing this all by yourself."

"Not really. Not a chance, Edith. If you weren't part of this, I'd drop it and walk away. The information you have about dairy animals, dairy business, and dairy markets is indispensable. Your role is a key component to the plan."

"Mark?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"How come you had to work to go to college?"

I smiled at her brilliant perception. "Dad has told us four boys, if we wanted a college education, he'd pay for the first year, and half of the second. The rest would be up to us. This meant scholarships, loans and hard work. Dad always said anything worth having, must be worked for."

Edith, looking ahead, asked, "Want me to work up a list of costs?"

"That would be helpful." I answered though I knew she'd have problems with the numbers. They just wouldn't add up.

On April 30th our lawyer notified us he had all the signed contracts. Final documents were being drawn up but we were 'good-to-go'. One of the negotiable items in the plan was the time I needed to begin the improvements and how long till they needed to be finished. We were being asked to have the loan procured within 90 days and work begun. Then we had one year to have everything completed and production at the promised levels. This was less time than I desired, but within the agreed dates.

That evening Edith, Trish and I sat down to discuss our plans to build and buy. Sam and Becky joined us.

"Here are the figures. They are rough estimates and the numbers don't match what you said the loan would need to be. Take a look and see if there's any errors." Edith related.

Glancing at her papers I went through the numbers. She had listed building materials, construction costs, milking equipment, inspections, electrical upgrade, concrete, fencing, computers and miscellaneous. Her figures were lower than an amount I'd been talking about. "Looks about right."

"Why the difference?" Trish asked.

Penciling in, I added another bulk tank, three more compressors, double the fencing, more concrete, and a new silo. The amounts for these were added to the total and brought to the bottom. "Is that closer?"

"Why the additional equipment?" Edith asked.

"Split the herd into two. This will allow to keep diseases, infections, and other problems separated. If one load of milk were contaminated for any reason, the other would be unaffected. Kinda like insurance."

"Good thinking. What about help. The five of us can't do it all?"

"College students."

Trish took the figures from my hand and re-added them. "Still $45,000 difference."

"Yeah, I know." This conversation would get interesting within the next few minutes.

"What's that for?"

I grinned but didn't say anything.

"Mark," she asked again. "What's that for?"

"A new house for my new wife." I deadpanned as another set of figures were slid across the table.

Edith took the papers and examined them. Trish, on the other hand, squealed, "Really."

When I shook my head 'yes' she came around the table and sat in my lap. Things got kinda mushy after that.

While I am busy with Trish, Edith asks, "I only see the cost of building materials. Where's the labor costs?"

Between kisses, "I've contacted the Industrial Arts department at school. Each year they build a house as a project and I approached them to build one for us, assuming we got the loan. I was told that they use a particular floor plan and after looking it over I felt we could adapt it for our needs." Turning Trish's face towards mine. "I want you to look at it and tell me what you think because it will be our house."

"We're really going to have a house of our own?" Trish asked me again.

"Yes, dear. We are."

"Sheesh," says Becky. "Just look at her. You'd think she's won the lottery."

"She has." Edith corrects. "She has."

Over the next several days, different events transpired. I called my dad and we talked about the outcome of the 'plan' and my decision to move forward with the loan application. The paperwork was faxed to his office and he submitted it for approval. From his experience, he said it would very likely be approved, so we waited. As the bank was not familiar with our part of the country, they'd be sending a representative to talk with me and the other players in our plan. He'd let us know when.

Edith and I had to get firm with Trish. She had become 'starry eyed' in her excitement over our wedding. She was actively planning events for the coming day and she was ignoring school. She was no longer interested in classes; and her assignments and tests were returned with failing marks. Edith tried first to encourage her to apply herself to school. Trish tried, she really did, but homework was often left undone. Finally I set her down and told her the importance of school and if she didn't pass all of her classes, I would cancel the wedding. That got her attention. 

Edith and I visited the lawyer quite often. One of the first items to clear up was the transfer of the title for the farm into my name. The groundwork had been laid for this transfer in the previous weeks, but it was necessary to complete before the final contract could be signed in my 'plan'. A partnership agreement was drawn up and Edith and I became joint owners of the dairy. The real outcome depended on the success of my plan. I wanted to repay Edith for the farm at some point in the future. She was taking a tremendous hit financially and putting a lot of trust in me. It was possible for me to take complete advantage of her, and I believe she knew that. This only emphasized her confidence in me and in the 'plan'. I didn't want to destroy her trust, ever.

Dad called a week later and let me know we'd have a visitor from the bank the next day. My classes at school were being skipped and Trish took me to the 'wood shed' about this. She was right, but I honestly did not know how to carry on the business of the farm, do school, meet with representatives of players from the plan, get the loan approved, and plan for our wedding. I was tired. I was exhausted and had been having trouble sleeping lately. Something had to give. Edith saw this and stepped in.

"Mark?"

"Huh? What's the matter?"

"The girls and I'll take over the chores for now. You have too many irons in the fire. I'll do the morning milking and the girls will do the evening chores. That'll free you up for other things."

"Thanks. I am not able to give proper attention to everything."

"Something else, I think you and Trish should postpone your wedding for a month."

I only looked at her.

"Talk to Trish, Mark. Please?"

Trish walked around the corner at just that moment. "Talk to me about what?"

She was looking at me but keeping her mom in view. Edith attempted an exit but I grabbed her hand. "You're not going anywhere now. It was your suggestion so you should explain it."

Trish looked from me to her mom, then back at me. "What's going on here? What are you two thinking? It affects me, doesn't it?"

"Trish," Edith paused. "Mark is overloaded right now; way overloaded. I've agreed to take on all the chores and you and your sisters will be helping me, and there will be no arguing about this."

"That's not all." Trish divined from our looks.

"I think the two of you should postpone the wedding till mid July. Because..."

"Mother, NO. I want to marry Mark." Turning to me, "Mark, tell her, please."

Now I was in the middle. Edith remained silent and forced me to speak up. "I am exhausted and having trouble getting enough rest. My classes are suffering, as you already know. There's a lot of legal paperwork, I have to go to meetings, and the bank representatives will be arriving tomorrow. Mom asked me to request from you that we postpone our marriage for a few weeks. Honestly I don't want to. But all of these things will be coming to a 'head' right at that time. Something has to give, and I fear it'll be me."

Slowly and with great hesitation, Trish spoke. "Then you're telling me the wedding will be put off."

"No I'm not. The situation has been presented. The decision is yours."

She became quiet and I sensed the weight of the world on her shoulders. The look in her eyes turned to one of uncertainty. Gently I took Trish in my arms and enfolded her. Gosh I loved her and at the same time I hated placing her into these circumstances. "Mark, I want to marry you so much."

Kissing her on the cheek, "I want to marry you too." Turning towards Edith, "Would you leave us alone, please."

She walked from the room and Trish whispered in my ear. "What do I do?"

Trying a different tact, "Do you remember last July 4th, the frustration and disappointment on the faces of the 'married' team?"

A smile crept on her face and the dimples showed. "Yeah, I do."

"Would you like to see it happen again?"

Realization struck home. Then her smile widened from ear to ear. "Yeah, I would." Taking my face in her hands, she pulled it towards her. "When Mark? When?"

"How about the week afterwards? How does that sound?"

She kissed me. "Okay, I guess so." And we embraced.

I slept well that night.

The next day I met the bank representative and skipped classes. She was nice, Linda was her name, and I spend the entire day with her. We started out by going over the aspects of the 'plan' where I explained the promises I had extracted from the others involved. "I want to see your current operation." Was her request.

Showing the barn, milk house, milking parlor and the herd was easy. Edith greeted her warmly and then returned to the chores. Linda was extremely knowledgeable and asked intelligent questions. I spoke freely and was soon sharing my plans and dreams. "Mark, you are young, and still going to college. You fell into a situation and Edith and the family have taken you in like a son. Folks could think you are using this for your own benefit."

"I certainly hope you don't mean that?"

"You tell me." Looking me square in the eyes.

"Linda, it's my name and my name alone on the loan. It's my neck that's on the line. Edith and I have an unwritten agreement that if this plan works out, and we believe it will, she'll be paid back. With the farm in her name, you know as well as I, that my loan application would not be approved. She clearly understands and we have a lot of trust between us. The dairy business will be a joint partnership. Worst case scenario, she would walk away with no obligations. As for me, you'd be coming with guns blazing."

She smiled at the analogy; neither of us spoke for several minutes as she thumbed through the papers from the folder. The business plan was buried in the stack and she removed it, paging though the different sections. "Tell me how you will put this plan into operation."

I spoke nonstop for nearly 20 minutes, pointing to graphs and charts from the proposal. She listened attentively, taking notes on her legal pad. When I finished, she requested to talk to the other participants. The rest of the day was filled with interviews with Mr. Johnson, the Milk Producers Association, the Union leaders, and others. From my perspective, the discussions went well. 

We ended back at the house at supper time. "Thank you for taking time out from your busy schedule."

"You're welcome to stay and eat with us." I offered.

"I hadn't planned on it. I'll get a motel room and head back in the morning."

"Linda, the table is already set. Adding another place would be no problem. Besides you'll have a chance to meet the rest of the family."

"Really, I couldn't impose upon you."

Edith came from the house. "You want to stay and eat supper with us? You're more than welcome to join us." 

We persisted and Linda agreed. Sam and Becky were finishing up the table and Trish had taken the food from the oven. The warmth of the house and wonderful smells of cooked food greeted us as we entered the house. I introduced everyone before we sat down. Talk was genial as we filled our plates. All of us were curious, but it was Edith who asked the question that was on our minds.




Down on the Farm Ch. 07



"You'll be heading back tomorrow, I reckon."

"Yes. It's a long drive and I'm expected back by afternoon." Linda replied.

"Is there any chance you could share what your recommendation will be to the banking board? We've been wondering what you thought."

She paused in her eating, looking at Edith and then turned towards me.

"The final decision will be up to the banking officers. A loan this size has to come before them for approval."

"So you're not allowed to say anything to us about your recommendation?" Edith asked again.

All eyes around the table were on her and we waited.

She took a bite and chewed slowly. "Your plan is sound." Was her reply. "However, there's something missing which is needed before it could be approved."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Insurance. A life insurance policy for the value of the loan plus health and disability insurance. These will be a required addition, in my written recommendation."

Mentally my mind re-did the figures. It was doable. The bottom line would be tighter, but doable.

"Edith, Mark, I want to congratulate you on the good work. Coming down here yesterday, I doubted the validity of the proposal. How could these numbers be correct? But today, after looking and talking, it's easy to see that a great deal of thought went into it. You've convinced me. But right now it's up to the bank officers."

Supper was over and she left within a few minutes. An explosion of joy burst forth from everyone and we danced in circles in the kitchen. Edith corralled the girls with dishes and I disappeared to the basement, working on assignments and a book report. Trish slipped downstairs later. Coming up behind me while I sat at the desk, she placed her arms over my shoulders and around my neck. "Your plans are working out for you, Mark."

"OUR plans. You are very much part of this Trish. It won't be complete till you're my wife."

She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

Days passed and my energies were put into school work. I'd gotten behind and worked feverishly to catch up. My grades were slipping and graduation coming up. In the evenings Trish was quick to bring her homework downstairs and we worked it together. 

I passed my courses and graduated. Mom, Dad and my brothers drove down especially for the Commencement ceremony. Edith made arrangements for them to stay at the house. It was crowded and for three days the house rang with laughter. What seemed interesting was my brothers Ed and Ray took a shine to Becky and Sam. The second evening as we sat talking in the living room, Ray asked Dad for the car keys. "Where are you going?"

"Sam and Becky wanted to show me and Ed around town. Is it okay?"

Dad tossed him the keys. "Take Jim with you and be back before 11." Mom said as they went out the door. The five were gone in a flash.

The next morning the graduation auditorium was packed and I walked on stage, receiving my diploma. Smiles, pictures, and congratulations were the norm afterwards. During the reception Ron and Marj spotted me and walked in my direction. Trish was by my side when they walked up. "We're hearing ugly rumors about the two of you." Marj spoke.

"So what's ugly about it?" I smiled.

"That ring on her finger." Ron said as he lifted Trish's hand.

I looked at Marj, "You said she was a 'keeper' and I took your word for it. Guess I'm stuck now."

"When did he ask you?" Marj asked Trish.

"Two days after homecoming."

"Two days after your first date? You went kinda fast, didn't you?"

Ron entered the conversation for the first time. "Should have heard the comments the next week. A lot of guys were wondering where you had hooked up with this good looking 'babe'. Most everyone knew she was a local gal who attended another college." Looking at Trish, "What's your major, anyway?"

I laughed. "She's working on her MRS degree and she graduates from high school next week."

Ron was in shock. Looking at Trish closely. "You're still in high school?"

Trish nodded vigorously.

"No way, man." He asked Marj, "Did you know?"

"Yes, I thought you did too."

The conversation tapered off as we gave congratulations all around. Their wedding would be out of state so we couldn't attend. Ron was starting a new job and they couldn't be at ours. 

In the afternoon I returned to the milking and Dad stood around talking as Trish and I worked. The girls and my brothers finished up the other chores and Mom and Edith talked while the meal was cooked. During supper Ray asked for the car keys again and Dad handed them over. Jim would tag along with the other four, and being the youngest, I'm sure, he felt out of place. After they'd left, Mom spoke up. "Mark, take Trish out too. The two of you need to celebrate. Dad and I'll be fine tonight. Gotta pack suitcases for the trip home tomorrow."

Trish and I hadn't been out together for quite a while. We needed time together alone. The park where I'd asked her to be my wife was special and we walked around the pond holding each other, and an occasional kiss. We talked some, but mostly had our arms around each other. The pressures of the last several weeks had stolen these quiet and private times. Mentally I made note to reserve moments with Trish, moments alone. Assuming the loan was approved, our times together could evaporate in the activity of construction and rebuilding the herd.

"Honey?" I ask.

"Hum?"

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"Remind me when I become too busy, that I need to take time out and be with you."

Her eyes are turned toward mine and I catch the corners of her mouth turning up.

"All of the 'plan' and the dairy will mean nothing without you. Don't let me forget to spent time with you, alone."

She buries her head against my shoulder and my arms enfold her, drawing her close. In the distance we hear some steeple bells begin their chime of the hour, followed by a hymn. Gently we sway to the tune as we dance along the path. Twilight has faded and the ducks are quiet and I am holding the woman I love. Returning to the bench we sit quietly and watch the stars appear, at first one by one, then the curtain of night is drawn back and the sky explodes with a million points of light. "That one's for you." I point one out. She squeezes my hand and holds my arm, and we sit like this till it is time to return home.

My folks and brothers left early the next morning and Edith and I spend the next few days working with Trish to pass her final examinations. One class at a time, we coached through her studies and one by one, she passed. Maybe her grades were not in the top of the class, but they were high enough to allow her to graduate. Graduation day she was all smiles. We watched her walk the aisle, in cap and gown, and receive her diploma. 

Wedding plans began in earnest with four weeks till the big day. Edith, Trish and the girls often had their heads together discussing invitations, gowns, food, reception, and a million other things. The bank hadn't made a decision, so I waited. My time was busy and the dairy and farm work were a never ending responsibility. Trish and I spent our evenings, after supper, remodeling the basement. With encouragement from Edith, I partitioned the entire basement area. The laundry room was kept as a common area. However, the remainder we divided into a bedroom, living room, bathroom, and tiny kitchenette, plus a small storage area. All the plumbing was in place but additional electrical wiring was required. I put up stud walls, and using sheetrock made the basement into an attractive apartment. 

Trish and I were painting one evening and stopped to take a breather. "It's our first home. You won't have to move far."

"Sam and Becky have been fighting over my room. They both want it."

I laughed. "They want separate rooms so as to not have a roommate. You're giving up your room to gain a roommate."

"My new roommate is handsome." Looking into my eyes.

Playfully, "What if he snores?"

"Then I'll make love to him."

"You could get pregnant doing that."

"Good. I hope so."

I give her a quick kiss. "Let's get this room painted before we get into trouble."

Dad called a couple weeks later. "You will be hearing from the bank in a day or two. They approved your loan. The only changes will be with the insurance requirement. Not everyone on the board was happy about it, but Linda's recommendation swayed the majority in your favor. Details will be forthcoming."

Dad was excited and hoped the plan could be worked out satisfactorily. "Is Trish there?" he asked.

"Yes, she is."

"Your Mom wants to speak to her about the wedding."

I called to Trish and handed her the phone. Mom and she talked for a while, making plans and discussing options. While she was on the phone, I find Edith.

"We have a 'green' light. Dad said the loan has been approved."

Becky was listening around the corner and gave out a war hoop. 

"What'd I tell you? Call it luck or what ever; good things follow you. Whatever you do, prospers." Edith smiles.

"Planning and lots of hard work. We're not out of the woods yet."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Mark. I believe the Lord is with you and if you follow Him, you'll prosper."

I shake my head in disbelief. "I don't see how."

"You will, believe me. You will."

Trish is off the phone and in her joyous excitement runs into my arms, shouting, "Mark, Mark. You did it. You got the loan. You got the loan. You got the loan."

Gently I calm her down. "Trish, Trish? Shhh. Shhh. We know." We embrace and looking past her hair, I see Becky, Sam and Edith all in smiles. Tonight is a night for celebration.

On the morrow, the phone call was received with official confirmation. Rather than trust a delivery service, Linda had been sent with the papers and would arrive this afternoon. She'd carry the official correspondence and instructions and I was requested to have available our lawyer and 'plan' paperwork to complete all legal requirements. Edith phoned him and passed the message along. Our meeting place would be the family table, the table where so many discussions and decisions had been made. It would only be fitting.

Linda arrived as scheduled and shortly after, our lawyer with a notary. All of the final players were here and we sat together. No formalities were held and the paperwork was passed along from hand to hand as each signed on the appropriate line. It took a total of 15 minutes and then they departed. The plan had been set into motion, now would come the hard work. Now would come the test of our endurance, the test of our will and the test of our faith. Our lawyer had placed the funds into a bank account and I'd be able to draw on them. There was so much work ahead, so much more that need to be accomplished, but my mind was not on these things; my mind was on the shining and glowing face of Trish as she sat across the table from me. How I loved her. Her presence and her love would be the driving force behind the execution of this plan. Others were depending on us to follow through.

Trish and I were married July 8th. We had waited till after the 4th where the 'married' team was soundly trounced. The following year I'd switch sides, but this year the youth of the church were victorious. 

The wedding day arrived and we had a large church ceremony. Tradition has it that the groom is not supposed to see the bride on the wedding day until she walks down the aisle. Edith was a stickler for this tradition and, try as I might, I didn't see Trish at all that day until the ceremony. If anyone asked were I nervous, I would have said no. However, there were butterflies in my stomach and I was pacing back and forth in anticipation. 

When the time arrived and I stood at the front of the church beside the preacher, I can still clearly see Trish as she is coming down the aisle on Uncle Peter's arm. She literally took my breath away. I had taken a quick breath and found myself holding it as I watched her walking forward. She was absolutely stunning; absolutely beautiful. To think or even imagine that this woman wanted to marry poor and often smelly dairy farmer. This blew my mind away. 

For the entire ceremony, I couldn't take my eyes from hers. Correction, I did glance over the audience and from my point of view, every eye was on Trish. Today was her day, she was the queen, her face was radiant, her eyes shone, her personality glowed, and she was willingly becoming my wife. WOW.

The 'plan' had been put into motion and all our energies were invested into it. The two construction projects were started that September. The college Industrial Arts class had broken ground to build our new house and a contracting company began our new milking complex. A few problems were encountered along the way, but both were completed right on time, and the time was at the arrival of our first child. Exactly 9 ½ months after our marriage, Trish gives birth to our son and we name him Howard, Bud for short, after the grandfather he'd never meet.

We kept our promise to the Mr. Johnson and the milk company, our production doubled. The original herd was kept intact and the additional cows were put into the new and separate herd. Edith had her work cut out for her, because we worked hard to keep the butterfat content of the original cows above 4.3%. The new cows were producing a little over 3.5%. She kept good records and tirelessly monitored their production. Their feed was tweaked periodically as she worked to improve their fat content. She was good and I knew it would rise with time.

As Edith held her first grand child she spoke these words. "Mark, your heart is 'right'. Whatever you do, whatever you try is not for selfish motives. I watch you work and your heart is true. The Lord will honor this." Trish and I had 4 other children and our milking business was very successful. Three different dairy periodicals wrote articles about the success we experienced and how the diary industry had prospered in our town. Seeing this success, other farmers in the area branched out to improve their herds. 

I kept my promise to Edith, slowly I paid her back for the farm she had used to invest in me. It took almost 25 years and by that time, Trish and I had grandchildren and Edith held her great grandchildren. Edith had been correct, everything I did, prospered. The honor can only go to the Lord. 

Did everything work out perfectly? Nah, not really, but through it all, we loved each other dearly. Our love for each other and for every member of our family was the binding glue that kept us together and made our lives worth every minute of it.