very soothing; in my mind i can see folks in their Conestoga Bandwagons, travelling across the Great Plains. Following the buffalo, and settling in a cute little village somewhere in the distant lands of Minnesota, or Nebraska, or Dakota (North or South), or Iowa, or Indiana, or Idaho.
I can see a father farming the newly tilled land with his 5 or 6 boys, while mother and the 2 daughters skinning and preparing the newly-hunted wild turkeys. Baking in the oven, with tops a'ready.
Papa, with his sweat-ridden face, and work-ridden body, comes into the little simple cottage--smells and wisks the roasting turkey and smiles at Mama. The 6 sons follow their Papa inside their simple home and start to sit, but Mama--insisting they wash their hands before the 'have' a touchin on the turkey'.
The daughters preparing the table, hugged by their Papa.
The chimney smokes filled,
the family eats. Together.
Somewhere,
yonder,
out there,
In the fields of Nebraska,
some time ago,
1800s time.
Linkback:
https://tubagbohol.mikeligalig.com/index.php?topic=20690.0
Topic: Dances With Wolves (Read 650 times)