Well hello there! Two days after I uploaded my first story. I've decided to upload something every two days [which will probably end badly...]. So this time I'm going to start a new story, called The Heimer Farm [as you can see].
The Heimer Farm
It was a wonderful springtime morning, just like the others. The vast farming plantations of the Heimer's farm were budding with fresh stalks of wheat. The sea of gold would ripple as the early spring breeze passed through. There wasn't a cloud in sight, up there in the sky.
On the porch of the farmhouse, leaning back in his rickety chair, Mr. Heimer puffed his pipe, watching the rippling motion of his golden sea of wheat. It was almost time to harvest the wheat, he noted. It was growing as tall as his only son, Howard Heimer, who was quite tall. A sturdy boy of 18, Howard was a stretching six foot seven. The wheat came up somewhere along his chest. Mr. Heimer's thin mouth crept to a smile. He was proud of Howard Heimer. Howard was the oldest of five children, and was considered the strongest. No one would mention that his competition were his five sisters, though. Nevertheless, everyone talked about how Howard would take the farm when Mr. Heimer died. He didn't seem to have any problem with it and accepted the congratulations with a smile. Mrs. Heimer would ask him about education, but he would always turn it down.
"What I can do on this farm can get me as far as if I went to college," he responded every time.
His mother would nod glumly with an okay. She wanted her children to get a good education, and not end up stuck on a farm. Mr. Heimer was more than willing to have his children work on the farm, though. With all the machinery and easy jobs up in the north, Mr. Heimer was losing workers. He needed as many hands as possible.
Mr. Heimer had a thriving farm. He owned about 500 acres of land, and half of the land was used for plantations. The farmer planted all sorts of wheat, and a few vegetables. The other half of the land was grazing grounds for the livestock.
The money he earned from the goods of his farm was split up earnestly for many things. Half of the income went into a savings account for the children, thanks to Mrs. Heimer. She insisted to start saving for their college funds. So, grudgingly, the old farmer agreed. Not much money went to house repair or clothes. Most of it went for farming supplies. Not to mention lumber for a horse's stall, which had to be the best quality wood. Mr. Heimer's second to youngest daughter, Daisy, had requested a horse. The girl had it in her head she would receive a horse for her birthday. Daisy loved, loved, loved horses. Her upcoming birthday would turn her thirteen, and she was looking forward to it.
Her birthday would also result in Daisy's last year in junior high. Mrs. Heimer groaned about how her second to youngest daughter was already heading towards graduation so fast. Mr. Heimer just laughed about it.
With a grunt, the thin old farmer hoisted himself out of his chair. The rooster was about to crow, and he still had to feed the chickens.
As the old Heimer made his way to the chickens with the feeding pail, he thought over some things. The farmer was getting old. So was his wife. They had six growing children, six mouths to feed. Heimer didn't have to worry about feeding them. It was supplying them with clothes and such that made him feel uneasy. All six of them worked daily in their clothes, and they hardly had anything nice to wear
Mr. Heimer opened the gate where the chickens were fluttering around, squawking. He distractedly threw the handfuls of corn to the chickens, engulfed in his thoughts.
Would his children ever find a spouse with their backgrounds? They were fine lookers and wonderfully nice. But would that find them someone to make a family with?
Mr. Heimer shook his head. He was doing it again, worrying about the future. Mrs. Heimer always scolded her husband for that. She said it would ruin his health.
With a dusty chuckle, Mr. Heimer confirmed himself that he would just have to wait and see what happens. So what if they don't find a spouse? They can take good care of themselves. Besides, it was a small chance they wouldn't find someone.
Mr. Heimer closed the door to the chicken pen. As he walked back to the house, the rooster crowed.
I hope you enjoyed it. It's one of the more recent stories I've written. Please review, and I'll be back with Chapter 2 sometime!