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Saturday, June 14, 2008

Running for Milk

It's Saturday. I get up at 5:40 a.m. with Pierre the puppy, like usual. By 6:30, I'm ready for coffee, but husband is still sleeping and I like to drink coffee with him. I think about running, but read the paper instead, and get pigs ears for the dogs so they'll stop chasing each other and waking up the kids.

By 7:00 I'm ready for cereal, but alas, no milk. At 7:20 I start bugging husband to get up and join the day. He's so sleepy. I'm so mean. I know I should let him sleep in. Plus, still no milk. We can't have coffee without milk anyway.

So I decide to run to the store to get milk.

Distance wise, it's about what I usually run. Or walk. And the running down to the store is easy. Running home with a jug of milk uphill is hard. So I don't, I walk instead.

I walk through the woods since it seems more natural. I feel sort of like Ma Ingalls walking home from town, minus the sun bonnet. Except Ma had a cow at home, so she wouldn't have had to run down the hill for milk on Saturday morning, or walk back up.

But they had to eat that poor cow during the long winter, which was so sad. Pierre's just too little to eat. He'd barely make a bowl of soup.

I'm so lucky, really, to be able to run and walk for milk on a Saturday morning. And even luckier that I don't have to eat my pets when the weather turns harsh. So many things to be thankful for today...

I think I'll go drink my coffee now.


Anonymous said...

Well, we watched Laura Ingalls on a Hallmark movie last night, and she was kind of old and it also occured to me that maybe she was out of practice. I don't know about Ma and Charles, but I think Half-Pint has seen better acting days ... unless it wasn't her fault and the script was extremely poor. BTW I must have missed the eating the cow episode ... what did they do for milk?

Occidental Girl said...

Interesting. When I start to feel like my life is reeeeeally haaaaard, waaaaaaah, I think about my great-grandma. I am then grateful that I don't have to butcher my own chickens and rabbits. Yikes!

Farm women were tough, man. I would have probably become a vegetarian.

Miss Julie - Chubby Mommy said...

My grandmothers both grew up on farms back in early 1900's(I'm so much older than you!)and they were tough, and not as spoiled as me. When I'd bring my babies to visit them in the late afternoons, they'd always say "don't you have to get home soon to cook dinner for your husband?" and I'd say "Oh. That's a good idea, if I get around to it. If not, he can just have cereal." They told me how lucky I was. I told them how lucky he was to have me. I think they believed me, it was hard to read their expressions; shock or awe?