View from my kitchen window
When I have my morning coffee around ten ‘o clock every morning, I like to gaze out of our kitchen window.
Sometimes I see a lone tractor driving by. But usually all is still.
And as I sit there, I think of my grandmother and my great aunt. They are the ones that used to live in these rooms, that are now inhabited by my noisy family. They are the ones that úsed to look out of that kitchen window.
The story goes, that on the rare occasions a car drove by, my grandmother hurriedly called her sister.
‘Madge! Quick! You gotta see this. There’s a cár.’
And then they’ld speculate about where that car might be going.
‘It’s not going to the Ingalls,’ my aunt would say. ‘Because it’s not turning left!’
‘Give it a chance Madge!’ my grandma would object. ‘It still might!’
Yes, life in the country sure is full of excitement. You just have to really want to séé it.
I wonder where that lone tractor is going.
Maybe to the Ingalls?
