by Vicky Ann Smith

Created on: March 12, 2011

Blossom erupts on the branches left bare by winter; buds grow waiting for the warmth of the sun to let them flower. After months of cold classrooms, the school bell rings making the start of spring break; kids cheer as they board buses or trek across the playing field on their way home. As a family, my mum worked and my dad, retired, looked after my brother and me as we ran in and out of the house with our friends whenever we felt hungry.

 If we were not cycling around Ferry Meadows, the local nature reserve, feeding the ducks and watching the chicks find their swimming skills, we were left at our Friends farm. Katie, Jonathon and I scoured the barn for eggs each morning, scaring the chickens from their nests and keeping away from the pregnant Yews. When the lambs were born we watched them leap around the field playing together and running if we got too close.

Jonathon and Katie’s brothers liked to tease and chase us around their backyard, where only cats could get in our way. Playing tag, the three boys were ‘it’, Katie ran one way around the garden, I bolted the other way, meeting half way we plunged through the bushes and tripped face first into a bed of stinging nettles. The boys disappeared as Katie’s mum appeared to our cries; she sat us on the table and lathered camomile lotion from head to toe. I can still remember the cold ointment, the stench we reeled at and our tears slowing as it soothed the pain away. From that day we stuck to hunting for eggs but as I found out trying to ride a bike while holding three eggs in each hand does not work, yolk covered the handle bars and my clothes before we reached the kitchen.

These spring breaks were easy, no decisions about where to go, we wanted to stay at home and play and eat sweets before we had to start thinking about more homework and exams. By the time Katie and reached college we had lost touch and spring on the farm was in the past. Choosing a cheap holiday abroad seemed far more exciting than chicks, lambs and stinging nettles; home was the last place we wanted to be.

Partying took over from exploring, following a tradition of students all over the world where two weeks of your life are free from everything. Hang overs in the morning are the only problem and forgotten by the afternoon. It was a time to escape and looking back the days on the farm are the ones I would choose to live again.

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