Tag: <span>farmlife</span>
…
I chuckled when I saw the cartoon. This was so me when I was that little. All dressed up like a girl, but not wanting to be one, at least not at that age. The acceptance that I wasn’t a boy came years later, the love for being a woman arrived just in time for adulthood.
I was raised on a farm in Austria, right on the boarder to Italy in a beautiful, idyllic mountain village. We had some cows, sheep’s and pigs and chickens everywhere. A farmers day starts early in the morning and doesn’t end before late at night. Everybody is needed -no exceptions, there is always something to do. We had acres of fruits trees and fields with potatoes and corn. Grass had to be mowed, fences had to be repaired and fruits had to be picked. The farms were not in calling distance; we had to drive to our neighbor’s house.
Life and death is a daily thing when you grow up on a farm. I watched eggs hatch, calves being born and I helped with all of it, from an early age on. I saw the butcher coming by, and even though I didn’t watch the actual “act” I knew what he was there for.