Animals

Today I visited the animals on Cousin Emily’s farm for the first time.

As I write in this diary, I’ll likely switch between speaking in the present tense and the past tense often. Why? Well, I’ll tell you the answer. When I’m old and I want to look back over my life I will have the chance of reading this, and if it’s in the past tense I can read it and enjoy the interesting story it will hopefully be.

But if it is in the present tense, it will be as if it is happening right at the time I read it, and I will again be immersed in the beautiful memories.

So, today. As I said, today I visited the animals that live on my cousin’s farm. She has chickens, cows, sheep, dogs for the sheep, geese, pigs, and even a couple of horses.

The horses were adorable. I do so love horses; when I was younger I started taking riding lessons. I no longer ride, but the memory of those times and those horses shall stay with me forever. Oh! To see them toss their manes, and whinny and neigh, it did me good.

The sheep and cows were rather interesting. It is so much fun to see them grazing and, my, how some of those sheep leap! They can jump over very high bars that have been put in expressly for the purpose of exercising them. It’s summer here, so they are going to have their wool shorn soon to keep them cool in the warm days ahead. The cows milled about in their fields, mooing to each other. There’s a saying, isn’t there, about cows lying down in a field? Whatever it is, I do hope that this means there will be good weather in the time I stay here!

The chickens are absolute nutcases, I must say, but they’re hilarious, and the antics they get up to are quite amusing. Their squawking and running and leaping about, while they flap their little wings, had tears of laughter running down my face more than once.

The geese honked companionably at me as I knelt down by their pen. It is a large thing, spread out over a huge space, not cramped and crowded like these horrible battery farms I hear about in the news. Eurgh! The very thought makes me shudder, and almost feel claustrophobic. Let’s not think such depressing thoughts. I’ll carry on about the animals.

The dogs, mainly sheepdogs, lay panting in the long green grass outside the fences for the cows and the sheep. Mainly the two grazing animals keep themselves to themselves, calmly respecting each other from a distance, but occasionally they’ll mix. The dogs themselves are the ultimate authority when it comes to the sheep. Their word, or bark, is law to our fluffy friends. The cows usually take notice as well, Emily tells me. From her description of the dogs before I first saw them, I had been expecting a group of huge, terrifying tyrants, foaming at the mouth with big, sharp teeth. They were nothing like that. They had sleek fur, and they were not even that big. As I’ve heard somewhere, it isn’t size that matters, it’s spirit, something these dogs certainly have. They will happily race each other, and calmly guide any wandering sheep back into their proper places without a second thought. It is second nature to them. They can fit underneath the gap in the fence, at the bottom, where sheep and cows cannot fit. Rarely, Emily tells me, a young adventurous calf or lamb will squeeze their way out, which means the dogs have to gently guide it back to its mother. They are very intelligent animals, dogs. There’s a reason they are called man’s best friend! They have an easy life, and they enjoy it fully.

The pigs were in their pigpen. Contrary to what most people say, they are really rather clean animals. They do not roll in their own dung. They do sometimes roll in the mud to prevent sunburn – I know from experience how painful a bad sunburn can be – as they do not wear clothes like us civilised humans. They’re quite dignified, and friendly too. They came right up to me and took the oats I gave them happily. I do declare the grunting they gave was a reply! What could they have been saying? “Hello, new person, welcome to the farm!”

I think I shall like it here. 

Arrival

The summer holiday begins today.

It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining bright, high in the sky. The grass by the side of the road is swaying in the cool afternoon breeze.

It’s one o’ clock in the afternoon and we are driving on the motorway, we have been driving for two hours and we are so close to our destination.

I am bubbling with anticipation and excitement.

My cousin owns a farm in the country. Her family was kind enough to invite us over for the summer holidays. I know that we are going to have so much fun!

And that is why I’m keeping this diary. For when I’m older, for when I have children and grandchildren of my own, so that I may look back upon this and think ‘My life hasn’t been too bad, after all.’ Most of all, being able to read back over this diary in many years’ time will help me remember how to be a child.

My mother turns round to me and snorts with hilarity when she sees me, writing studiously in my little book as we pass each corner.

“Anna!” She laughs. “Are you really going to do that all day? When I suggested you started a diary, I didn’t mean you should write the entire dictionary!”

We both chuckle at that.

I think that we are close now. Either sides of the road are blotted out by dark trees, but it does not feel menacing nor make me feel at all claustrophobic, but then I have never been that ways inclined.

We drive smoothly; there seem to be not potholes in this road. Either it is brand new or it is a rarely travelled path. While on this journey, once we entered this local district I have not noticed any other people.

We have left the forest behind now, but the road continues. It is winding now, twisting and turning.

There is a sign by the side of the road. It has the silhouette of a barn with the word ‘Farm’ written in capital letters above it. The sign points in the direction we are going and, looking at how far it says we have left to go, I believe we will soon be there.

We turn a corner and there it is! The whole farm is displayed in its full splendour as we look upon it from above. We have found that we are at the top of a winding cliff. Although this confuses us slightly, we soon realise that we must drive to the bottom and from there we can go to the farm.

Now we are at the bottom, and straight ahead is the farm. We roll up to a pair of elaborate wrought iron gates and father opens the window and pushes the intercom button. Apparently keeping your own animals and selling some of their products makes enough money to buy such things.

A low voice speaks. I do not understand it, but father appears to. He says something back with a smile on his face and the gates click before opening. We enter.

A man comes running to greet us. Is he a hired servant? The thought passes through my head and is dispelled very quickly as soon as I think clearly. I chide myself for even thinking like that. Our family has always preferred being independent; they would not hire servants. Besides, I recognise him. It’s my uncle Eric, who I have not seen since I was a little girl of six. Ten years on, he hasn’t changed a bit. His red wiry beard is the same as ever, and his bright green eyes have not lost their sparkle.

“Anna!” He says delightedly. “You’ve really grown!”

I shake his hand and move on. I want to take a look around this farm, as I don’t remember much from when I’ve visited it before. I also want to find my cousin so we can talk. I’m sure she knows all the things to do around here because let’s face it: this is the countryside. It may have faulty internet access, have only a few people living nearby and barely any shops, but it’s better than the city. It has clean, fresh air, animals (I do so love animals) and it has wide open spaces to run, jump and play around in. I am not going to have a boring moment during my six week stay here, that’s for certain!

And there she is, my cousin! I run to her, to speak with her. She is the same age as me, and we are in the same school year.

We talk a while, and then join the adults as I take my first step into the house.