Imagine an era that differs from now,
When times were not better but pleasing, somehow.
As the year 1950, when farming was done
By Mother and Father and Daughter and Son.

by Gordon W. Fredrickson

With tractors and horses they worked on the land.

Lacking equipment, they managed by hand:

Tilling and planting and tending the crop,

Harvesting, Storing--their work didn't stop.

Family members in morning and eve,

Had responsibilities they couldn't leave.

With milk pails and pitchforks they chored twice a day,

Milking cows, pumping water and feeding the hay.

They fed mash to white chickens and corn to red hogs,

Milk to the kittens and scraps to the dogs.

To a team of grand horses with shiny roan coats,

They fed mounds of grass hay and two cans of clean oats.

I've written some tales in narrative rhyme,

Showing my family spending their time.

Being together for work or for fun

And aiming to make every day a good one.

Each Farm Country Tale is my humble attempt

To characterize a specific event.

To satisfy readers' desires for pleasure,

With fact, I've mixed fancy in measure for measure.

My fam'ly consists of my father and mother,

I've one younger sister and one younger brother.

Joey's five, Maggie's nine, and I'm Jimmy, just ten.

With a Farm Country Tale I will gladly begin.