by Karen Age 6 & 52 Our farm
This is a picture of a farm, but it is not our farm. I cut this picture out of a magazine. I was six and my first grade teacher said I was going to make a book about my home. But it’s not…really.
This is a picture I took in 2007 of my parents’ farm. It’s not nearly as neat and tidy as the picture from the magazine. There’s mud and weeds. The buildings need paint.
I colored this picture, but it is not what our house looks like. Ours is taller. There is no sidewalk. The only fences on our farm are to keep the cows and pigs from getting out on the road.
My parents live in this house now. Our 150-year-old two-story farmhouse used to sit where the wagons are parked. If you look closely, you can still see the old limestone foundation.
My dad does not wear overalls. He wears old pants and a shirt with the sleeves torn off. If it is cold, he wears a hooded sweatshirt. My dad does not smoke. His cap says “Pioneer Seed Corn” on it.
My mom must have taken this photo of Dad, my brother, my dog, Zippy, and I. This was probably taken right before we moved from our house in town to the farm. Zippy tried to run back to this house from the farm and got lost. We never found him.
My brothers wear shoes when they do chores. The cows leave manure, so we have to wear boots. I could not find a picture of my mom or my sister or me doing chores. But we do lots of the chores on our farm, just like my brothers and my dad.
My brother was probably outside helping us with chores, even though he’s only about three here. He has his own acreage now and manages a large hog confinement. The rest of us moved away or live in town. He goes out to my parents’ farm almost every day to check on them. The only animal they have is a small house dog.