The Rural Voice, 1989-07, Page 48FREY CALF CREEP
All steel construction for extra durability,
completely portable. Available in 4', 6',
& 8' single and double sided creep fronts.
— priced from $599
Portable Cow Pen Panel
J.7 REID
Manufacturing & Sales Ltd.
R.R. 1, Moorefield, Ont.
NOG 2K0 519-638-355
Formerly Frey Livestock Equipment
WICK
WEEDERS
Contact Herbicide
Applicator
— any size available
— front -mount hydraulic kit
— hand-held models
- - 3 -wheel or 4 -wheel ATVs
— front mount
— trail behind
Manufactured by
PAUL VOGELS
R.R. #2, Kippen
Ontario, NOM 2E0
519-522-1030
46 THE IRAL VOICE
NOTEBOOK
........................ .
bpi edam Sorrel
our years since I left this place —
four, four, four, four — since I left
home, the farm. And I'm going to
trudge, by myself, to our other barn,
just a little down the road. Please, no
gushy reminiscence, please. I live in a
city, three different cities since I left
home, all the same.
I walk out the house door and the
outside world greets me immediately.
There is a bright sun in the sky, and
mud underfoot. I rush away from the
house and want to get on with the
journey. I need to take a walk. I
need to leave the house behind me.
My brother Doug and his friend
are taking turns shooting tin cans
with a pellet gun as they lean against
a hydro pole. They shoot steadily,
patiently, waiting for the loud "ting"
that broadcasts success. I slowly
distance the scene, not wanting to
be noticed.
There are small islands of snow —
vulnerable to the sunlight. The lane -
way is spongy.
Nick, enthusiastic as ever, comes
along (I guess I'm not alone). He
bounds far ahead of me, always ex-
pecting a long trip; I hate to disappoint
him.
Down the hill, down the hill, I
walk down the low-grade hill. The
wide gravel road is dependably hard
and smooth.
I remember nothing while walking;
nothing stands out in my mind as
something to remember. I spent eight
years of my life here but no distinctive
vignette comes to mind. This lack of
memory doesn't trouble me, though
— nothing does. All I feel is the
pleasant warmth of the sun.
Looking to the right: clean, rolling
brown-green pastures lay smooth, wet
enough for cows to soon walk on and
blacken. And further ahead on the
same side I see golden corn from the
previous autumn.
The wind bathes me warm and
cool. Not cool. Not cool. Caressed.
I don't want to go to the other barn
but there's really nowhere else to go.
If I do go there, I want to go alone,
where there'll be no one else around
when I see it.
I turn left up the laneway, which is
so muddy one must negotiate
alongside it on tip -toes.
On the left, in the barn's front lot,
there is a clearing. Different trailers in
succession had sat there. When Bill,
the hired hand, was 16, he started to
live in the trailers every summer and a
few falls.
Ahead looms a grey barn, unevenly