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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

David C. McLavic - 5. Chapter 5

Saturday morning. Carl rushed us through the morning. He was in a hurry to get to town. I didn’t understand why until we arrived at Mrs. Butler’s house. Carl went to the shed in the back and got the lawn mower. “This is the flower bed that needs weeding, if you do that I’ll cut the grass.”

And that is what we did. When Carl was finished mowing, he knocked on the door. A woman came and hugged Carl then she saw me. Carl had to introduce me. She told us to wait, she had just baked some cookies for the Market. When she returned she had a bag of cookies and two glasses of milk. Carl sat on the porch steps and patted a place next to him for me to sit. We started the bag of cookies, I had three and I had enough. Carl finished the bag. When the milk was gone, Carl took the glasses into the house.

Next stop, the Farmer’s Market.

I don’t know what I expected but I was surprised. I saw Aunt Sarah selling eggs and cream from a container we used to collect the milk from their cows. The only people I saw buying were the people who lived in the town. I watched for several hours. My opinion when we left to go home, it wasn’t a market as I expected. It was an opportunity for the farmers to meet and talk about their farms.

Dad asked me what I thought. I told him I thought they should change the name from Farmer’s Market to Farmer’s Meeting. “Dad, the only people buying were people from town. The men were sitting at a table talking and the women were talking to each other. I saw one woman go and help herself to a dozen eggs and put the money in a box on the back of Uncle Carl’s truck.”

Dad just looked at me and laughed. He knew I was right.

 

Sunday I was told to wear my good clothes since we were going to attend church. Going to church wasn’t a regular event at home. We went for Easter and Christmas sparingly during the rest of the year.

Walking into town, Aunt Sarah, Uncle Carl, and Miss Lily rode with Dad. Beth Ann walked with us, there wasn’t room in the car.

The church was a wooden building on the west edge of town. I would never have guessed it was a church. Entering the building, Carl took me and Beth Ann to a bench at the back of the church. Mom and Dad sat with the other adults in front of us.

We waited when a man came to the front standing in front of a wooden cross, “Good Morning. Let’s begin by reciting the creed.”

I didn’t understand what was going on. I followed Carl, he stood Beth Ann and I stood. He sat and did we.

When the service was over, the people gathered in front of the church. The adults were talking to each other, the kids started to play some games. Beth Ann and I didn’t understand the game, so we watched.

After approximately 30 minutes, Mom came and said they were going home and for us to head home as well. I was ready to leave.

Walking home we stopped for apples from Carl’s favorite tree. Now we took our time walking home.

When we arrived home, we were told to change our clothes. Mom said tomorrow we would take Mary Lou to enroll at Pennsylvania University.

The rest of the afternoon, we rode Carl’s horse, except Beth Ann who had to stay and help Mom and Aunt Sarah.

Lunch was at 2 pm and Carl said supper would be late and mostly leftovers from the week.

The three men were washing up when we heard the bell. Jim wasn’t there. Then I recalled not seeing him on Saturday as well.

“Where is Jim? I didn’t see him yesterday as well.”

“Jim said that Saturday and Sunday were family time. We will see him on Monday.”

The few days I was at the farm I learned that the animals and the growing season dictate a farme’sr time. This wasn’t an eight-hour job like Dad’s.

Monday morning, after breakfast, we left for the University.

Copyright © 2023 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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