Chapter 20 School Days Call Again

Once again I stood at the kitchen table after Bret and Kate had been tucked into bed. I unzipped the brand new book bag. I placed in it the little blunt end scissors, a new box of colors, a little rug, some pencils, an old shirt of Mark's, and a little pair of old cleaned up tennis shoes. I zipped it shut and just stood there for a little bit, my hand resting on the colorful book bag that Kate and I had picked out for her first day of kindergarten. Our baby was going to get on the bus with her big brother tomorrow. I would be left alone for a whole morning. What would I do without her chatter and laughter? I picked up the little book bag, held it to my chest for a minute and then carried it to the door and placed it beside Bret's. I had a real problem with change, and life was full of them.

The last two years had been full of kindergarten graduation, parent teacher meetings, parent's club activities, little Christmas programs, Valentine parties, and Kate's preschool at the old school house in town. It did make it easier to send Kate to kindergarten knowing that she had made some friends at pre school. There is one little girl she really liked. Her name was Melinda. They really seemed to get along well and they would both be in Mrs. Miller's morning class.

"Good morning punkins," I said the next morning as I went to their little beds and started to pull away the covers. "Do you know what today is?"

Kate rolled over and started to sit up, but Bret just grunted at me and pulled the covers up over his head. It didn't take Kate long to get out of bed and start to dress in the clothes we had set out the night before.

"Bret you have to get up honey. Remember you're going to have your sister with you this year," I said going over and pulling down the covers once again.

When I knew that he was on his way to becoming alive, I started out the door saying "I'm going to comb Kate's hair and Daddy is getting breakfast. Your clothes are there on the dresser. We'll see you in a jiffy."

Mark had the kitchen smelling really good when we all filed in to sit down. Kate was all excited as she sat there at the table, but poor Bret came trudging out and plopped down, still half way in dream land. He is not a morning person! Mark had even left the raisins out of the oatmeal for Kate's sake, to help her celebrate her first day of kindergarten.

Kate looked so small standing there beside her big brother at the end of the drive way. Her hair was in two little pigtails falling over her shoulders. She had on a black and white checked dress that Grandma had made just for this day.

As Mark and I watched the old school bus drive down the road, I thought to myself, "Three short years ago Bret took his first tiny step away from us and now Kate, our little quiet, sweet daughter is stepping in line with her big brother."  For some reason my mind jumped forward in years and I pictured Mark and I standing alone on the back porch, waving to a young man and lady driving away from us, off to their college years. Will Mark and I still have each other to cling to when the house gets quiet and a new chapter of our lives start once again?" I sure hoped so.

"I want to check the cows over in the south pasture this morning. Do you want to ride along?" Mark brought me from my dream world into reality.

"Man does that ever sound good! Yes I'd love to. That is if we get back in time for the bus at noon. I have got to get out of here."

Chuckling to himself he said, "Well we have four hours to check two pastures. I would think we would make that."

"Let's go then, " I said running to the pick up and hopping in.

When I feel sad or lonely, I love to drive to the pastures with the wind blowing through the windows. It kind of blows all that hurt away and I see wonderful possibilities ahead.

"Well Bret and Kate are somewhere in that big building over there," I said pointing to the west as we drove south toward the pasture. "I wonder if Kate is scared? I hope she found Melinda."

"She'll be just fine I assure you. Probably better than her mother." Mark smiled and reached for my hand. "You have to remember they will grow up. We wouldn't want it any other way."

"Yea--I know but----"

"Listen, I have been wanting to talk to you about something," Mark said changing the subject. "What would you say if we would build a farrowing shed and put a nursery at one end?"

"Where? On our place?"

"Yeah. I really want to get the sows moved down there. I've been thinking just a simple low building that would hold fourteen sows and have eight small pens in the nursery. What do you think?"

"Oh my goodness, that's a huge project!" Do we have the money for all that?" Poor Mark. I was always concerned about money. I hated debt!

"Well we have Grandpa paid off so the cow herd is all ours now. I hope to have a surprise for you come May of next year."

"What do you mean surprise? Isn't the farrowing shed surprise enough?"

"This is a really big important surprise!"

"And you're going to make me wait until May?"

"Yep, " Mark said with a grin, hopping out of the pickup and opening the gate to the pasture.

I loved the peaceful setting of this pasture. You went under a railroad bridge, along a little creek and through some trees and there was the gate.

We left the gate laying on the ground and made our way up the path south, looking this way and that for a herd of black cows. "Over there," I said pointing to the west. Off we went bumping over old cow piles, gopher mounds, and old cow trails, up and across the dam, and finally to the herd. Now I have been married to this man long enough to know that I just as well shut up when he counts his cows! All I get for answers is a whistle through his front teeth. Did you know men can concentrate really well when they are whistling through their front teeth?

Mark parks and hops in the back and I drive. He can see them better standing back there. I drive north along the east side of the cows as he counts. Then I circle back to the south as he counts the calves. He knocks on my window after a bit. "Circle around to the south again. I didn't get the right count on the calves. Drive a little slower if you can." So back we go, slower this time. It seemed like we were barely moving in grandma low.

After a bit there is a knock on the window again. "Let me in now." I stop and he walks to the back of the bed, still pointing to the cows counting them, jumps down and hops in. "Well we need to see if we can find the bull. He seems to be somewhere else. Pretty typical for this time of year. They like to be by themselves."

"Well he better be in."

Off we go back over the dam, headed south past the loading chute and down to the east, past one of Grandpa's old run down self feeder huts, and down into a little ravine . There he was just laying under a cottonwood, chewing his cud just as content as could be.

"Boy he must not want to socialize," I said as Mark drove right up to him and made him get up.

"Well he looks healthy enough so we will just leave him alone. Yeah, they get that way at the end of the summer. Their work is done."

"Well I guess we got distracted from our farrowing shed business," Mark said getting back in the pickup after shutting the pasture gate.

"When do you plan to start all this building?"

"Soon," he said. "I would really like to have it built before winter if we could swing it. It would be so much better to farrow in a warm building. We could no doubt save more babies if the air was warm all around them."

"Go for it I guess. I just wish the house was paid off first but that's impossible I'm sure."

I was just setting the table for lunch when I heard the sound of the school bus. I dropped everything and ran to the mail box. I could see little Kate's head before the driver opened the door. I stood there all excited to see how she got along on her first day. The flashers went on and the door swung open and out walked our little girl, book bag dragging on the steps.

"Did you have a good morning?" I asked taking her book bag.

She started to tell us all about her friend Melinda, and Mrs. Miller, and recess, and story time, and who was chosen to go get the milk with the little wagon, and on and on as we ate lunch together. School days had started for both Bret and Kate. Happy golden rule days. They both enjoyed it, but in their own individual ways.

Isn't it something really, how God puts into every little human being a special personality all of their own. Bret was a easy going little boy. He seemed the happiest walking the north 40 with his dog, or reading a book curled up on his bed. Kate was a quiet, rather shy little girl. She loved her cats and would play dress up with them on the front porch. She and Bret were really close. On a warm fall day you would see them heading to the north 40. Bret had holes in his jeans, and his sling shot in one hand and a pocket full of rocks. Beside him was Kate. Her little pigtails dancing in front of her shoulders as she skipped along. Beside them or behind was their faithful companion. Their brown dog, running here and there, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Bret had talked Kate into going pack rat hunting.

They would cross a creek, come to an old tree and there at the bottom of the tree among the tall grass and logs would be the pack rat nest. They would get long sticks and poke at all that mess of twigs, grass, bolts, nuts, until old Mr. Rat would make his way out and head for the creek. If Brownie got it---well the end of Mr. Rat. If not, Bret would try with his sling shot.

They would build forts in the creek with logs, sticks, leaves, boxes, you name it. Mark found a low branch on one of the trees by the creek and hung a swing in it. They would swing out across the creek and land on the other side.

These are only a few pictures a mother takes with her "mind camera" and stores away in her heart for always. As that little boy and his sister grew into manhood and she becomes a young lady, their personalities may change slightly but the picture their mother took those years ago will live for always deep in her heart.

A current day note:   Would you all please hold close to your hearts a dear Canadian farm family as they face the terrible lost of their three young girls. We saw on face book that these three young girls were killed in a terrible farm accident. We do not know this family personality, but a farmers blood runs deep and strong for other farm families no matter where they are or who they are. Both my husband and I feel deep pain for this dear family. Thank you for holding them close to your hearts.