I"BESSIE? BESSIE! BESSIE!!"
Where is that darned cow? She knows she's going to get corn this morning and let me pull that extra milk off her. And I need every spare quart I can get, not let her just run it off.
Then I saw the gate to the woods. Like someone had driven over it with a 4-wheeler.
"Great. You're in the woods somewhere and either you've lost track of time or you're in the middle of eating something that's going to make your milk taste funny. Just great." Talking to a non-present milk cow would be a bad thing, if we weren't so far from anyone who could be offended. I didn't have to care.
And that's the trick with running a road-side produce stand to make your living from a farm. No one around meant no sales, and meant no money to pay the soon-coming-due taxes.
"Bessie! C'me
