Sebastiaan Tjia - 51377159
“Well I can’t say he was the brightest kid I’ve seen. ‘Prolly one of the dumbest we’ve had on this ranch,” Uncle Arlo chuckled, voice empty of compassion. “Still a damn shame. We coulda gotten some good dough at the market for the coat. Not even the heart can be recovered, those darn coyotes chow on everything!” This was the fifth goat this month.
After a day like today, and after feeding the horses, the cattle, and tending on the goat pens, my Uncle Arlo would always sit down at the kitchen, groan, and tell my cousins and I the same exact thing. He told us that working on a ranch can sometimes be tough but that farming provides education for life that no other occupation teaches. He said that that nothing else could teach a man so much about birth, growth, and maturity in such a variety of ways. He’d always told us that when we’re old enough, we’ll “inherit this fine field of God’s country…” He always paused here and, on the especially long days, began to sob a little . “I just pray those damn coyotes are gone. You won’t gotta worry about your place then. You just live, ranch,…show more content… She was a fantastic chef and the “best baker in town,” according to our neighbours. My uncle was all about living off of the land and enjoying a simple life with his horses and his goats, but she was all about cooking great food, raising babies, and gossiping with the other farm wives. They suited each other nicely, she was always sure to bring him a cold beer with his plate. After his first sip he’d forget all about the coyotes and ask us kids a bunch of stale questions; usually the same old ones every night. Though on that particular night he must have had a few too many before dessert because a new question had found itself trapped inside his cloudy mind. “Y’all believe in aliens? Y’all know. Like the space ones, not those darned Mexican ones.” Aunt Sally