The Rural Voice, 1982-06, Page 12When I was on the farm,
I took a spill and broke my arm.
My friend told me to milk a cow,
Then I said "I don't know how"!
I do not like to drive the tractor,
I would rather be an actor,
I would have to do the chores,
The thing I hate most is to feed the boars.
I said to Lorne,
The calf is born.
When I look at the sheep,
It makes me think of Little Bo -Peep.
If I did live on a farm,
I probably wouldn't break my arm.
There is one thing I wouldn't like,
I wouldn't get time to ride my bike.
This is all I have to say,
I have to go and fork the hay.
Tammy Arnold, 10
Summer blossoms
die soon
1 blame no one,
I knew it wasn't forever
But still — I always thought you would
stay.
It was summer and perhaps the sunlight
blinded.
Me. but not you; you always knew the end
was yours.
To give. And you gave.
People say I'll forget.
"First love dies quickly, dear.
There'll be others."
But still I think of you.
The summer ended and so did we.
But why?
I'll never know and maybe you won't
either.
The ache isn't as sharp now;
It has turned to bitterness
The beautiful summer blossoming of a
rose
Turned brown and crumbled in autumn.
Only the thorny barb is left —
Embedded in my heart,
Val Montgomery, 18
I like working on the farm
Sometimes I feed the cattle with hay. I
throw down hay and I throw down chop. 1
am helping my Dad when I do these tings.
I also like to help my Mom work in the
house. I vacuum. 1 help my Mom pick up
toys.
1 like to play outside. What I do is ride
my bike and play in the sandbox.
I am happy when I help my Mom and my
Dad. I am glad when I play outside on the
farm.
Troy Ducharme, 5
The Pet
I am sure everyone has a favourite pet -
a dog, a cat or maybe even a mouse - but
mine is different. Mine is a little baby calf.
It all began one day last summer when
my dad went to the ranch. While walking
around he came upon a little calf. At first
he could not figure out which cow was its
mother. He walked on a little farther and
he found another calf but the mother was
standing beside it. Dad finally decided
that this cow had twins but she didn't
seem to like the one. She didn't even want
to look at the poor little thing, so my father
brought it home. It was so small we could
pick it up and carry it all around.
We then had to decide how to feed the
little creature. We found a pop bottle and
put a big nipple on the end of it. The calf
sure did like it. It drank milk from the
bottle and that is all it ate.
The only thing our family seemed to talk
about at the supper table that night was
the little calf. The next big problem was to
come up with a name. Dad told us it was a
girl so that got us on the right track. A very
detailed discussion followed but we did
decide on the name "Stephanie" after my
sister's best friend.
Stephanie soon became quite a novelty
as we had her tied to a little stick which
was simply stuck in the ground in the
middle of the front lawn. Car after car
would stop to look at her. She looked just
like a little deer as she was the colour of
one.
When Stephanie got a little bigger we
taught her to drink out of a pail and we
could also lead her on a rope. She was sure
a good friend. Everywhere we went she
would go too.
When the weather got a little cooler we
fixed up the old chicken coop and put
straw in it. We tried to make her as
comfortable as we could but by this time
she was getting pretty stubborn. It
seemed she was everywhere we didn't
want her to be and it took quite a bit of
pushing sometimes to get her back in her
pen.
W e have Stephanie in the barn now with
the other cattle but she is still real tame
and likes to follow people around. I don't
think she will ever get very wild even
though she will go out on the ranch next
summer with the other cattle.
I believe that Stephanie will never
forget that it wasn't her own mother who
looked after her and fed and cared for her
but rather it was a whole group of adopted
mothers.
Jamie Mielausen, 17
PG. 12 THE RURAL VOICE/JUNE 1982