And it started as a normal day {open}
Oct 21, 2012 6:28:14 GMT -5
Post by xdawnx on Oct 21, 2012 6:28:14 GMT -5
I tie my hair up before I leave the house with two big, empty buckets. My younger sisters are still asleep. My parents and brother are gone.. who knows where they are?
I can tell from the amount of clouds in the sky today’s weather is going to be nice. Not bloody hot like last week. Even though parts of my face, neck and hands are sunburned, I refuse to milk the cows inside in their stables. I wouldn’t survive the awful smell of too many cows in a too small space. When I enter the first stable (we have 3. I just randomly name them 1, 2 and 3) all cows start to moo loudly. I translate it to: ‘Yes, Finally fresh air!’ I lead them out of the stable to the field. There is enough grass for them to eat, and a little pool of water they can drink from. I take one of the cows with me to the corner of the grassland. There is a small bump over there I always sit on when I’m milking. As I sit down and place one of the buckets under the udder of the cow I’m going to milk, my thoughts wander off to the dreamworld I had created when I was young. Actually, it is quite like my normal life. Just no hunger, fear, sadness and hate. And I have two good eyes in my dreamworld. I’ve learned to live with it, that my right eyes doesn’t function well, but I believe I could do my work better and faster if I had a proper sight. My mom always says: people with handicaps are bad workers. That’s why I don’t want her to know about my eye-problem. She wouldn’t allow me to help on the farm anymore. That would mean less work will be done which leads to less money for food and other important things. So that’s why I have two good eyes in my perfect fantasy world.
At the end of the morning I have 12 buckets full of milk. I put them in a toy wagon to take them all with me so I don’t have to walk a lot. As I come closer to the house, I smell baked eggs. I leave the milk outside and walk into the kitchen. There my family is already waiting for me. ‘Hey mum,’ I give her a kiss on the cheek, ‘where were you this morning?’ ‘At the neighbor’s place. They’re giving us advice how to produce good butter’. Of course, my parents have been talking about that since ages. We still have some milk left after we made cheese and sold an amount of it, so they also want to produce their own butter. I sit down on a chair next to my little sisters. From their soapy hands I guess they have been cleaning the house and the stables after I’d left. My mother gives everyone a glass of milk and a loaf of old bread with an egg before she sits down herself. It tastes good. I love it that even if we have to work a lot, we always lunch together. ‘Milcha, can you do me a favor?’ my dad asks. ‘Sure,’ he probably wants me to go to the market to sell the milk and some other products. ‘Can you go to the centre and try to sell our milk and eggs? Try to buy some bread and soap, we don’t have much of that anymore.’ I knew it. I nod. ‘Can I come with you,’ Mariah, my youngest sister, asks. Before I can respond my dad says, ‘No, you have your own tasks to do for today’. The look that she gives is so sad and ridiculous that it almost makes me laugh. I give her a hug, ‘maybe next time’. My mother hands me the bowl of eggs and I go outside to get the toy wagon. I’m on my way to go to the market.
I can tell from the amount of clouds in the sky today’s weather is going to be nice. Not bloody hot like last week. Even though parts of my face, neck and hands are sunburned, I refuse to milk the cows inside in their stables. I wouldn’t survive the awful smell of too many cows in a too small space. When I enter the first stable (we have 3. I just randomly name them 1, 2 and 3) all cows start to moo loudly. I translate it to: ‘Yes, Finally fresh air!’ I lead them out of the stable to the field. There is enough grass for them to eat, and a little pool of water they can drink from. I take one of the cows with me to the corner of the grassland. There is a small bump over there I always sit on when I’m milking. As I sit down and place one of the buckets under the udder of the cow I’m going to milk, my thoughts wander off to the dreamworld I had created when I was young. Actually, it is quite like my normal life. Just no hunger, fear, sadness and hate. And I have two good eyes in my dreamworld. I’ve learned to live with it, that my right eyes doesn’t function well, but I believe I could do my work better and faster if I had a proper sight. My mom always says: people with handicaps are bad workers. That’s why I don’t want her to know about my eye-problem. She wouldn’t allow me to help on the farm anymore. That would mean less work will be done which leads to less money for food and other important things. So that’s why I have two good eyes in my perfect fantasy world.
At the end of the morning I have 12 buckets full of milk. I put them in a toy wagon to take them all with me so I don’t have to walk a lot. As I come closer to the house, I smell baked eggs. I leave the milk outside and walk into the kitchen. There my family is already waiting for me. ‘Hey mum,’ I give her a kiss on the cheek, ‘where were you this morning?’ ‘At the neighbor’s place. They’re giving us advice how to produce good butter’. Of course, my parents have been talking about that since ages. We still have some milk left after we made cheese and sold an amount of it, so they also want to produce their own butter. I sit down on a chair next to my little sisters. From their soapy hands I guess they have been cleaning the house and the stables after I’d left. My mother gives everyone a glass of milk and a loaf of old bread with an egg before she sits down herself. It tastes good. I love it that even if we have to work a lot, we always lunch together. ‘Milcha, can you do me a favor?’ my dad asks. ‘Sure,’ he probably wants me to go to the market to sell the milk and some other products. ‘Can you go to the centre and try to sell our milk and eggs? Try to buy some bread and soap, we don’t have much of that anymore.’ I knew it. I nod. ‘Can I come with you,’ Mariah, my youngest sister, asks. Before I can respond my dad says, ‘No, you have your own tasks to do for today’. The look that she gives is so sad and ridiculous that it almost makes me laugh. I give her a hug, ‘maybe next time’. My mother hands me the bowl of eggs and I go outside to get the toy wagon. I’m on my way to go to the market.
