I'm sitting in a little cafe, the kind old people eat at. The waitress has given me a menu and she has returned to get my order, but I'm still reading it. "Are you ready? Or are you still making up your mind?" "Oh, Ummm, I think I want a roast beef sandwich and some soup. What is the soup of the day?" I say. "Split pea. Do you want a cup or a bowl?" "A bowl." I say with a smile. Memories are flooding back to me at the men...
I sat on the damp concrete steps at the end of the milking pit. I listened to the pneumatic throbbing of the milking machines pulling squirts of white liquid from the black and white cows. The milk filled eight glass bubbles in the pit. There were four cows in stalls on each side, munching contentedly on dusty ground grain. Thick green soupy manure covered the cement walkway. My mom reached for the udder of a white cow. S...
