"Well, Jimmy, let's get going."  

I tugged and pulled at my wagon and it started riding smoothly down the dirt driveway.   Jimmy limped along beside me and I patted him on the head.   At least I'd have him to talk to as I did my painting.  

We walked down the driveway and across the gravel road to the fence.   It looked like Davey had done a good job of scraping off the old chipped paint.  

"Well, Jimmy, should I start at this end or that end? Or should I just start in the middle and work out?"  

Jimmy wagged his tail at me and went to lay down in the shade by the cow barn.  

It wasn't too hot here.   Two big oak trees helped shade the fence and the barns.  

The fence ran between the cow and sheep barns.   It had a swinging part that opened to drive the tractor through or to get through if someone wanted to walk out into the pasture.  

As I looked back toward the woods, I could see our black and white cows grazing on the pasture grass.   They continually swung their tails up onto their backs to keep the flies from biting them.  

Off in the distance, I could see the tractor and baler, making a slow way around and around the hay field.  

The sheep were in their barn.   They had their wool sheared off just two weeks earlier and Papa was afraid their bare skin would get sunburned, so they had to stay in the barn until their wool started growing again.  

I didn't hear a sound coming from the sheep barn.   I guess it was so hot that they were all laying down sleeping.  

My cousin who lived in the city, once told me that it smelled awful on our farm.   She came to visit every summer for a week.   She never wanted to do anything that I wanted to do.   She didn't want to ride the bike or even go for a walk in the woods because it made her sweat.  

"I don't like to get hot and sweaty," she said.  

She just wanted to sit on the porch and play with my dolls.   Dressing and undressing them and putting different clothes on them, over and over.  

Well, I liked to play with dolls too, in the winter when it was too cold to go outside.   Summer time was when you were supposed to be outside.   Riding the bike, running down to the pond, playing hide and seek in the woods, all those good things.  

Last summer, after she went back to the city, one day, I told my Papa, "It stinks on our farm!"  

Papa put down the farm magazine he was reading and glared at me.  

Then he said, "You better learn to like that smell, Emmy.   That smell means we have cows and sheep.   The milk from those cows brings in money for that nice warm bed you sleep in every night.   The wool from those sheep is going into a college fund for Davey and you.   You better take a real deep breath and love that smell, because that is what is giving you a good life."  

Then Papa raised his magazine and started reading again and I crept quietly out of the living room.