THE SHIRT FARMER .COM

I don't always do as I'm told. I'm a stubborn yankee....although...... that conjures up an image of a foot-stomping, scowling hick in overalls and muck-boots doesn't it?! That's not me. I'm the pleasant, quiet and smiling --"I'll do it when I feel like it"-- stubborn yankee. I don't wear overalls because they make me look fat, but I love muckboots! I also go off on urelated tangents, Here's the bull pen story.....

I think I was about ten.....aware of right and wrong, and only partially aware of consequences. My grandmother....Nana....asked me to gather the eggs. The chicken coop was in a corner of the barn. The large tractor door next to it allowed you to see that part of the barn from the house.

Ah, the dusty chicken coop with creepy cob-webs! Other than that, it was a really neat place! There were empty apple crates stacked here and there. Hay fell through the cracks from the loft above and mixed with the shavings and sawdust. The chickens had tons of running and flapping room. I guess you could compare it to a modern play gym for toddlers. Only, with pecking hens.

The eggs were hidden everywhere. I had to stick my hand into the crates and feel around. I had to stick my hand behind the crates and feel around. I had to stick my hand.....ewwwww!

Actually, I was pretty used to finding things that make you go ,"ewwww". Only this time it was extra slippery, and as I pulled the egg out, I dropped it. I watched it roll right down the front of my shirt, down my pantleg and break in my rolled up cuff.

I had never broken an egg before. Nana had taught me to be very careful. "Food is important, and you must remember-- 'waste not, want not'." I sat on a crate wondering what I should do. I could wipe the egg away, cover the goo with sawdust, and tell her I only found as many eggs as was in the pail. But that would be a lie. I stood up and paced around.

It was during that pacing and thinking that I noticed a small square hole in the chicken coop wall. It was up high....maybe six feet. The light coming through wasn't bright like it would be if it led to outside. But that is how I pictured the barn to be.....with the chicken coop against an outside wall.

This is where an adult's mind is very different from a child's. An adult would exit the chicken coop, and take a short walk to find that window on the outside of the barn. A child......

I had to see where it went. I gathered some crates and built a pyramid so I had steps up to the "window". I climbed up and peered out. There was a roof just above, and looking down I saw ground. Straight out about ten feet or so was a wall made of wooden planks. To the left was open to the outside. To the right was another wooden wall with a door. I had never seen this place! I could fit through, and jump down. It wasn't too far.

Plop....I was down. Only, on this side there were no crates. I looked up to the window. From this side it was more like seven or eight feet up! Oh well. I'd just go around. As I walked toward the opening, I could see something dark through the cracks between the wall planks. I stopped. It moved. It was big! I mean BIG! And, it was moving toward the opening I was headed for. I turned to go the other way. The door was closed, but hopefully I could push it open.

That's when Nana yelled across the barnyard, "Amy, where are you?" I ran to the door and pushed. It didn't budge. I yelled back, "I'm in here." I put my eye to the crack. I could see her standing on the doorstep, tipping her head to zero in on my voice. "Where?"

I looked back, and just turning the corner was a head with huge horns. It was the bull! I guess I must have screamed, because when I put my eye to the crack again I saw Nana running. Any other time Nana needed to move fast, it was a funny quick scoot-walk. This time, she was running. Fortunately, the barnyard isn't very big. She flipped the latches and pulled me through.

We were both shaking. "What were you doing in there?" she whispered. I just started crying. "I broke an egg....and I didn't want you to be mad."

My uncle lives on the farm now. Recently while my brother and I were visiting him, I told that story to them. My uncle said he didn't believe Grandpa kept bulls on the farm at that time......the AI man did the job.

So, I guess it was just one of Grandpa's larger cows that scared me. But, until just a bit ago, I always thought it was a bull.