Farm Feast

This is a story about what happened last Thursday. this is ellie

this is a picture of me and rhea l am wareing a yellw hedaband

I found Althir. Althir is a big hollow tree known as the lair of the Sable Quean. (This is a book from Redwall. Okay now, back to the blog.)

Rhea is helping us clip willow to give to the cow.

This is Winnie she is my sister.

We picked beans.

We picked potatoes. These are the yucky potatoes we found that were chewed by some animal I think is a vole.

bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssttttttttttttttttttttttttt dinner ever!

This is all about my life. I am 7.

Daddy: Every dish at this meal was produced on the farm. We grew and harvested all the vegetables the day of, and the T-bone steaks came from our steers. This is a picture of Ellie’s face after she finished her food. Usually she is the pickiest eater, who would rather starve than eat anything other than mac and cheese or grilled ham and cheese sandwiches; and rather chatter through a meal than eat anything at all. Last Thursday, however, she helped make the mashed taters, and was ridiculously excited about them. She ate two helpings of mashed potatoes, a helping of beans, a no-thank-you bite of stir-fried chard, and half a T-bone. After finishing her second helping of taters, she looked at Mommy and said, “My tummy hurts.”

Mommy: “Is it full.”

Ellie: “Yeeeesssssss.”

Mommy: “So you finally filled your tummy for once in your life?”

Daddy: “You know, that feeling of fullness, that slight stretch of the tummy wall? Most folks ’round here feel that feeling on a semi-regular basis.”

“What?!”

That’s a lot to process for a young Ellie.