Sunday, December 20, 2009

Holy Cow

One winter we had a very big snow. My dad shoveled in front of our house for 2 days. When a buggy would go past, we couldn’t see the top of it for the snow drifts. That winter it was terribly cold. My dad had split wood during the fall and people in the town of Covington was having trouble finding fuel to keep them warm. My dad would start for Covington at day break with a load of wood and walk behind the horses all the way as it was too cold up on top of the load. He would get home about noon, eat dinner and load up so the people could stay warm. My mother would worry when he was late getting home in the evening. Afraid they would find him frozen along the road. My dad had beautiful draft horses and he had them trained to drive without a line.

One time my parents were going to a funeral of a funeral. This was in the summer, and they told us to stay in the house when the funeral came past. Bob never listened very well and we had a cow named Fran that all of us could ride. We would go back to the back field to get the cows and we could crawl on her back and ride her up to the house. This cow on the day of the funeral Bob hitched up to the surrey. Bob, Bessie and I got into the buggy drove out to the end of the lane. And when the processions passed, we waved. When my parents came by they were next to the last buggy. My dad turned the cow around and said ‘just wait until I get home’. We didn’t have any more fun that day.

Talking of cows, I learned to milk at a very early age and I’d take a poem along to the barn when I milked and I’d learn the poem. Some of the have stayed with me all my life. When I was in high school, my teachers would say how do you learn a poem or a part in a play so easily? And I’d tell them, they should of milked cows.


I can imagine my mother sitting in a buggy behind a cow. I remember her telling of riding the cow to the barn and the herd would follow. My mom. What a character.

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