FARM:

Today I am going to visit a friend who lives on a farm called" Busy Nook", which is down a long lane, tucked into the corner of my mind. Her name is Fanny, or as she is better known, "Farmhouse Fanny". She is a widow & lives on this small farm alone, but never lonely, as she keeps telling folk, because she has friends that quack, oink & moo, & is followed around all day by gaggles of geese, waddling ducks, skipping lambkins & her faithful dog, old Jess. It is 4.am & I am walking through the cold Yorkshire morn to help Fanny with the chores. When I get to her little wooden door & knock she is already bustling around being busy. The sight of this lady always cheers me up. Her ample proportions under her crisp white pinny give her the aspect of a sailing boat in full sail, her smiling eyes are cornflowers, her cheeks are cherries, & her arms ever embracing. We milk the warm comfy cows & take them into the dew covered clover to graze, we feed ducks, geese, & lovely red-crested brown hens watching them scratch the soft earth while the cock lets us know a new day is born. The pigs are fed swill, & the lambs bleat with joy & jumping, in the surrounding fields. We churn butter, we dig up potatoes, collect warm eggs for our breakfast, we make crusty bread, & bottle fruit. The day is filled with busy hard work, laughter & all things good, & when we have a break we sit in the aga-warmed farm kitchen eating home cured bacon butties & drink hot Yorkshire tea, old Jess at our feet, & peace within us, & I realise we all want to a little bit like "Farmhouse Fanny".