My world has always been green & yellow. From the moment I was born the daughter of the local John Deere salesman, to the present as wife to a dairy farmer with a serious and somewhat maniacal adoration of everything John Deere (The Farmer is the seriously maniacal one). From the day The Farmer fell for me when I was a dirty, greasy stock girl in the parts and service department of the local John Deere dealership (and working hard to throw off the stereotype of the boss’ daughter) I have been The Milkmaid….I am also referred to as “Somebody”…especially when “Somebody” is needed to give a tour of the farm; or “Somebody” is needed to go to the state capital to sit in on legislative hearings or when “Somebody” needs to go do anything that nobody else really feels like doing. The Farmer thought he was getting a great cook, a farm wife, a history buff, and a really great discount on parts….instead he got a FANTASTIC cook, a farm wife with ‘tude who has been accused, many times, as being “too bold”, a history buff, and a better discount on parts from his father in law than from his wife…
I, on the other hand, got a wonderful husband, 3400 cows to call family, The Farmer’s Daughter (who is intermittently referred to as “Baby Girl” despite her towering almost a foot over me), and The Boy, who also looks down to look me in the eye but is always “The Boy”, and a John Deere 4000 in lieu of an engagement ring.
In other words: the most perfect love story ever without all the silly, sentimental crap you will find in The Notebook, and all the sass Annie Oakley, Bette Davis, Bea Arthur and Ginger Rogers could muster as well as normal, everyday high-jinks and hilarity that ensues when your daily conversation involves manure, air filters, tits (the ones on udders, mostly), green paint and James McMurtry.