Rats on a Plate and the Smell of Fresh Manure

 

Large white farm houses tucked in rolling hills lined with gravel roads and sided by freshly tilled black earth. Clotheslines lined in multiple sizes of black tights and white underwear. Horses, sheep, calves and chickens, a poor little cat that never made it across the road. A store clerk oblivious to the fact that she lives a mile away from debit cards and scanners, carefully reading each hand ticketed item before ringing into the 10 key calculator, printing out a narrow tape with 1.65, .45x8… Rows of healthy plants, crops of young women in pastels, bonnets and bare feet carefully arranging flats of flowers. A neatly folded white paper sack, 4 large pastries tucked inside. A pair of little boys safely buckled in car seats with 9 toy rats squished strategically between their tiny fingers ride up behind an Amish boy and his dad, both wearing straw hats, bouncing along on an open cart behind a quick trotting horse. The mix of strong manure-spreading scent lingering on clothing with a hint of sweet-smelling car-heated petunias.  Right before I pulled out of the lane onto the pavement that leads home I gave my mom a big hug, apologizing for coming out for her birthday and then having her drive me around the dusty countryside, spotting me 5 bucks for the plants and buying the treats. I turned to her as I laughed at my littlest using a new method for transporting his new rubber Amish-bought toy rats on a paper plate, that’s it!” I said,” today’s post is going to be called ‘Rats on a plate and the smell of fresh manure'.”

-Robyn (Nye) Rasmussen