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February 7, 2011

Mondays Free Write: Featured Post Winner

Congratulations Alison Paige on the winning contribution.

Betty knew she should sell the place; her kids told her so every time they bothered to visit. No one in her family farmed anymore. There were no tractors to store, no fields to plow. There were no horses left to ride, no cows left to milk.

But she'd grown up on this farm. She'd fallen in love with Joe on this farm, taking him lunch when he started working for her father. She'd married Joe beside her mom's flower garden.

When the children came along, her parents sold the house to Betty & Joe. The kids, all six of them, had played in the yard. They'd explored the fields. They'd had fun growing up there. Until they were old enough to do chores, that is.

The kids had long since gone to college and gotten married and found jobs far beyond the farm. Yet she remained, even after Joe's death seventeen years prior.

She was stubborn. No one was going to remove her from her farm before she was ready. She would be there until the end.

Just like her old companion: the weathered, crooked creaky old barn.

Visit Margaret over at Art Happens 365
(photography & poetry)
to be inspired.

3 comments:

the wild magnolia said...

Fixer Upper
For Starters
Needs:
Green Roof Shingles
Red Wood Door
Solid Glass Windows
Retain Weather Worn Wood
Window Flower Boxes
Fireplace and Chimney

Spacious pasture
Mother Nature's
Best Landscaping

Interested?
Bring Your Dreams
A Life Collage
Awaits
Your Imagination
Is the Limit

Kathy said...

What I have seen...

I may seem as though I have blank and lifeless eyes staring out onto the world. But I have seen many days just as fine as this and many days filled with snow and cold. My spine sags with age and my boards show weathering--all testament to the years I have borne witness to:
the farmer, bending over plow and flicking reins, wiping sweat from his brow

the children running and playing, darting through the long grass and in the fields of wheat

two lovers, stealing a kiss and shade under my roof

the late night prowl of the cat

the hiding of the mice

the rain, snow, and sleet

the crash of lightning and thunder

the beating of the wind

and again, sunshine all around and clouds floating in the sky

a day just like today, and yet so much more

have I taken part in

Alison Paige said...

Betty knew she should sell the place; her kids told her so every time they bothered to visit. No one in her family farmed anymore. There were no tractors to store, no fields to plow. There were no horses left to ride, no cows left to milk.

But she'd grown up on this farm. She'd fallen in love with Joe on this farm, taking him lunch when he started working for her father. She'd married Joe beside her mom's flower garden.

When the children came along, her parents sold the house to Betty & Joe. The kids, all six of them, had played in the yard. They'd explored the fields. They'd had fun growing up there. Until they were old enough to do chores, that is.

The kids had long since gone to college and gotten married and found jobs far beyond the farm. Yet she remained, even after Joe's death seventeen years prior.

She was stubborn. No one was going to remove her from her farm before she was ready. She would be there until the end.

Just like her old companion: the weathered, crooked creaky old barn.