Sunday, June 22, 2008
...it\'s a damp morning around 8AM, I\'m 14, and still shivering from a 4AM wake-up to go out and help guide the cows to the barn for milking. I trod the well worn path to the back porch of the 100 year old home of Clayton and Evelyn Myers and all of my cousins. I enter a very warm kitchen and pass by a black stove that is being used to not only warm the house but to cook a ton of eggs and potatoes and the best smelling breads of all time for the hungry gang of farmers and their city slicker cousins. I remember the "raw" milk. I\'m one of them farmers today. Oddly enough, what came as work for my cousins was something new and exciting and dare I say some fun for me. Chores like moving irrigation lines, pitching silage, driving the tractors. And, shooting off rifles in the dim light of evenings out back of the homestead are just a few of some of the most memorable times of my life.
I remember Evelyn\'s perpetual smiles. Whenever I picture Evelyn I see her smiling.
I will always remember you Evelyn. Bye for now...