I have many fond memories of farm life as I knew it was not the way most people were raised on the farm remember them. While most people can remember milking cows, cleaning stalls, and many other wonderful things we do not discuss, I was in the background looks almost anything. I want and do what they did. I actually thought that there was a conspiracy against me, but I did not know why. All I knew was that if they wanted, it seemed that they could take me anywhere in my wheelchair.
I remember thinking what would be cool to go up in the hayloft and wait for a load of hay to come because it was when I heard screams and laughter while she waited for her. If hay was bouncing along, another group of people were up and screaming, and suddenly I wanted on top of hay on a wagon piled high with them. I now realize that the old fashioned way hay square bales is really hard work, back but all I could see were people supposedly a good time. wants to cooperate because it was a time I could talk to him without interruption. I do not remember much of what we (or should I) talked about, but I thoroughly enjoy it, enjoyed it or not father it is hard to say. Maybe that's why he could not wait to rev up a chainsaw. Talking is one thing I was good at, and I certainly have my share of time.
When I spoke not, I spent a lot of time playing in the mud. When the mother in the garden, I sat on my knees and dug. The odd time mom would let me plant seeds that I could do without much trouble, but nobody knows how many times I dug up more than I planted. My love for digging was much better when I learned I could dig my way to China. If Mom serious things to do in the garden, I had to stay away from. I never could go into the potato patch, and I've never been to China either one reason or another.
Mama always wanted horses, and about eight years ago, came to the mother farm already pregnant with Winnie. Besides family, pride Winnie Morse and joy. The horses would be sold much to the dismay of the mother, but Winnie is always a place in her heart. I like to think that they would have let me caress, if I could get the gate. We would have a good conversation (I could talk, they would drool) and when they are tired of listening to me, they would just go away.
I remember thinking what would be cool to go up in the hayloft and wait for a load of hay to come because it was when I heard screams and laughter while she waited for her. If hay was bouncing along, another group of people were up and screaming, and suddenly I wanted on top of hay on a wagon piled high with them. I now realize that the old fashioned way hay square bales is really hard work, back but all I could see were people supposedly a good time. wants to cooperate because it was a time I could talk to him without interruption. I do not remember much of what we (or should I) talked about, but I thoroughly enjoy it, enjoyed it or not father it is hard to say. Maybe that's why he could not wait to rev up a chainsaw. Talking is one thing I was good at, and I certainly have my share of time.
When I spoke not, I spent a lot of time playing in the mud. When the mother in the garden, I sat on my knees and dug. The odd time mom would let me plant seeds that I could do without much trouble, but nobody knows how many times I dug up more than I planted. My love for digging was much better when I learned I could dig my way to China. If Mom serious things to do in the garden, I had to stay away from. I never could go into the potato patch, and I've never been to China either one reason or another.
Mama always wanted horses, and about eight years ago, came to the mother farm already pregnant with Winnie. Besides family, pride Winnie Morse and joy. The horses would be sold much to the dismay of the mother, but Winnie is always a place in her heart. I like to think that they would have let me caress, if I could get the gate. We would have a good conversation (I could talk, they would drool) and when they are tired of listening to me, they would just go away.
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