I remember my childhood on the farm. I woke early in order to perform my chores. I opened the door to the barn each morning and with me came a radiant golden light that flooded the barn. The dawn is truly a glorious time. After I finished my chores, I went about my daily activities.
One of the joys of my childhood was taking the bloody brain of a freshly slaughtered calf to my neighbor's house. With my chores done, I would enter the pasture and cleave open a calf's head with my mighty axe. After partaking of the creatures blood, I ran to Mr. Jones' house. I would wait in hiding for the old man to leave his house. Then I would leap out and dance madly around him as if it were some malicious ritual. I would then smear the calf's brain on his walker and laugh through my red teeth. He would then hobble back inside crying and muttering about my generation.
Later, I would go out to the rabbit cages. We had many, many rabbits. I would pick out a nice fat one and slice him open. I then threw him into the dog pen, still kicking, where our five dogs, whom we rarely fed, tore him to shreds. One time, I took my little sister and threw her in. She lost her left arm and never walked properly again due to her badly damaged knee. Dad just laughed and said, "Look at them dogs. They sure act hungry!"
I also remember Thanksgiving at the farm. We would take forks into the turkey pin and feast upon the creatures while they still twitched. It was customary to impale the birds on large metal stakes five minutes before dinner. This way, there was much more blood present when we ripped the plump fowl open.
Boy, I miss those carefree days of childish pranks and innocence...
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