On the Farm:Unfinished

…

…ran through the yards. After breakfast there were always small chores that had to be done. The chores were never really chores though they were more like playtime. Although the chores seemed more than they were worth sometimes. My brother, cousin, and I all had the duties of making every step our granny and poppy made. Usually we fed the small white-feathered chickens as they ran around frantically and slopped our fat, pink, wrinkled, hogs.