Within the next couple of weeks, Rich Farmers should be available on iTunes and other places that I haven't decided upon yet.
Maybe it was a good thing we didn’t pack more stuff.
This place was tiny.
Not the motel itself, but the living quarters.
Curious as I was to check out the place, I despised the little kid who showed me around.
While Mom and Dad were huddled with the woman they’d bought the place from, Elsie; pouring over balance sheets, David Lee, Elsie’s son, became my official travel guide.
“Now, this is my room,” he intoned.
Well, no. This is now my room, and will a bed even fit in here?
Stomach churning, as I pranced along the short household tour, I tried to stop thinking about the new school, the new kids, that I would have to face in a couple of days.
Jay and Lisa were lucky. They’d have plenty of time to assimilate. Me, I was about to be thrown into the fire.
“Here, behind this sliding door, is the office. Right off the living room!”
Our privacy stops at this door?
How quaint. And I hate it already.
The little second bedroom was little, all right. A set of bunk beds hugged one wall; Jay and Lisa would be on the bottom bunk, me on the top.
There was room enough for a narrow dresser on the opposite wall, and a wooden door was built into the wall at the foot of the bed, opening up to a closet with three shelves, where I would stow my important possessions; i.e., my record player.
I felt unable to catch my breath.
I’m going to live in here?
It’s about three steps from my parents’ bedroom!
Life truly sucks.
On my farm, I could stretch my arms out wide, and not touch anything. Here, in this room, I couldn’t even stretch out my arms.
What had I gotten myself into? And can I just go back?
“Here’s the bathroom.”
Well, isn’t this nice? I have to get up at seven. If I’m quick, I can jump in the shower and wash my hair before anyone’s the wiser.
My big brother had pulled up behind us in his red Ford Fairlane. He got out; stretched.
“This’ll do”, he said.
“I can remodel a whole bunch of this stuff.”
My brother’s girlfriend, Kathy, was back at home. It was a drive, but he’d gladly run it.
I didn’t know anybody, and there was nobody worth knowing, least of all David Lee.
Jay and Lisa toddled on over, past the pines, and made the acquaintance of our new neighbors, the Merkels.
Friends for life.
I had nobody.
I shook a sheet of loose-leaf out of a folder, and wrote a beseeching letter to Cathy. “Come visit me!”
I was keenly lonely. And alone.
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