Singing to the pigs
I was one of those kids that grew up on a farm. My grandparents raised milking cows, beef steer, and eggs layer chickens in one of the big metal chicken barns so well known now in Maine history. They had an orchard, a family vegetable garden as well as beautiful flowers outlining their home. We would help hay the fields every summer. It was the same story every year. We would get the call on the hottest possible day, "we have to put the hay in today, tomorrow is forecasted to