1845. To find someone nice

Destiny said she didn’t marry her husband’s job; she married her husband. Quite frankly, she hated her husband’s job; cows, cows, cows. All he did every morning was milk cows. All he did every afternoon was milk cows. Was there ever time off?

Roman was doing his best. He’d grown up on a dairy farm. Dairy farming was all he knew. He’d worked hard throughout his teens. His father left Roman the farm. He built a special house on it for his widowed mother. He met and married Destiny. That was about his life.

Destiny didn’t merely love Roman; she fell in love with the prestigiousness of his habitation. How wonderful to live on a farm! How wonderful to have all this space! A house! A garden! Some chickens! A pet calf for the children when children came along! Fresh milk! All her friends married labourers of one sort or another; plumbers, carpenters, truck drivers. They lived in hovels in town. She lived in a mansion; more of a manor. She alone had married into proper bliss.

Can’t you take some time off so we can get away? asked Destiny.

The cows can’t not be milked.

Pay someone else to do it.

We can’t afford to do that yet.

Since a while Roman’s mother cooked one decent meal a day and brought it over. Destiny has gone off somewhere in pursuit of happiness. It’s all over. Roman wished he could get out sometimes and perhaps meet someone nice. If only he could find someone to milk the cows say one night a week.

Success! He found Ned Burton’s daughter from up the road to milk the cows on Thursdays. Betty knew the ropes; she was brought up on a farm. In fact, Betty helped milk the cows twice a day every day of the week. And on his day off Roman would give her a hand to milk. He didn’t need to look too far to find someone nice.

35 thoughts on “1845. To find someone nice

  1. João-Maria

    This was sweet. I was expecting Roman to marry one of the cows or something; one never knows with you. Either that or Roman just suddenly has a stroke and falls flat on some dung, where he suffocates.
    It’s truly anyone’s guess.

    Liked by 5 people

    Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      Ha ha! One day I’m going to make a list just to see the proportion of deaths in these stories as compared to nice plots. Also – are there more female murderers than male?

      Liked by 4 people

      Reply
  2. Yvonne

    Do it for your loyal followers!

    Actually, I probably have more time on my hands than you. I could start the project from your earliest posts. I can include method as a parameter. Let me know the other categories you want.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      I too moved away from the farm – two roads diverged in a yellow woof… – looking back I think I would have liked to stay on the farm – especially now since the government put a big highway right through the middle of the farm and paid the new owners HUGE compensation!

      Liked by 4 people

      Reply
                1. Bruce G. Post author

                  Nebuchadnezzar was certainly well-hung, which is a quality I emulate. It’s the cows leaning over the fence and devouring everything they can reach that needs attending to.

                  Liked by 2 people

                  Reply
    1. Bruce G. Post author

      My (maternal) grandmother married my Dairy farming grandfather who promptly went to hospital with recurring WWI injuries. She was a city girl and went over to the neighbour’s to ask how to milk a cow! She managed very well apparently! In those days it was all milking by hand.

      Liked by 3 people

      Reply
    2. Bruce G. Post author

      My (maternal) grandmother married my Dairy farming grandfather who promptly went to hospital with recurring WWI injuries. She was a city girl and went over to the neighbour’s to ask how to milk a cow! She managed very well apparently! In those days it was all milking by hand.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

I delight in having my dull life coloured by your intelligent perceptions, your wit, and your vivacity.

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