Pamela Loxley Drake shares her thoughts and experiences on growing up in the country.

COURTESY PHOTO - Pamela Loxley Drake

A simple life

Once a farm kid, always a farm kid.

Meet this farm girl. I was raised on the rich dark soil of Darke County, Ohio. In 1978, I was transplanted here to Beaverton, Oregon, where I was surrounded by people from all walks of life which contrasted my prior life in a community where generations of the same family had lived, raised children and were laid to rest in that rich soil. Country goes city.

As time went by, that simple life I had experienced became more precious. People and places drew me to my roots time and time again.

Over a decade ago, I became a columnist for an Ohio newspaper. Now I look forward to writing for you.

Join me weekly for a new adventure. Maybe you will learn something new and find a smile or two. My journey might just be yours as well.

Come join me as I walk the fields, play in the corncrib and dance in the rain.

Bovine conversation

The cows lowed in the field. The deep bellow that began deep inside of the large bovine, traveling up the throat of the beast, coming out in an arpeggio of sound that seemed instead to come from the tail of the cow. Mournful at best. I grew up with the lowing of cattle in the fields.

I think perhaps I took those cows residing in our barn for granted. They didn't do much. They mooed. They were pros at making cow pies. And they ate hay and grass. Eat, moo, poo. Cows.

Perhaps it sounds a bit strange, but I miss the smell of the cows and sheep and chickens. I miss the smells that accompanied my life. The smell of freshly cut hay. The smell of Mom's laundry on the line. The smell of grass freshly cut. The smell of the tobacco shed, the haymow, the corn crib. The smells of the past that surprise me when I stumbled upon them now and then.

The old cows bellowed, and I didn't know to listen. I didn't know that someday I would wonder why I didn't sit on the fence more often enjoying a bovine conversation.

Yes, I know. Not everyone thinks the way I do. But then if they did, perhaps I wouldn't tickle those memories from the past. Moo.

Pamela Loxley Drake is a Beaverton resident and self-described lifelong farm girl.

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