Daisy

Daisy works her family’s dairy farm. Daisy milks the cows. Yes, ironic, she liked the irony of her name too.

Daisy is the prettiest thing you ever did see, this side of the black stump.

Daisy milks the cows morning and night, in her itty bitty dresses and riding boots in the summer, and gum boots in the winter.

“Oh, too much damn material just gets in the way,” says Daisy. “I need to be free and…” she’d smile. “Unincumbered.”

She milks the cows and then she climbs up into the hay loft and she reads until it was time to go and milk the cows again.

“I’m at one with my beautiful girls, I am very luck.”

Daisy likes the farm life, she likes short dresses and boots, she likes novels with stories and she likes farm boys.

“Oh yes, I find those boys almost the most fascinating things out here on the farm,” says Daisy. “I mean once you get supervising those farm animals, you soon get to know what comes naturally in this world.”

“And, I don’t have to go far to find them, either,” says Daisy. “Josh Johnson. Mitchell Riggs. Angus Groves. Liam Miller.” She points in the direction of the farms adjacent to hers.  “They are just about my favourite boys. And they are all practically next door.”

“Yeah, sure, Josh and Mitch and Angus and Liam have all shared my hay loft at one time, or another.” She smiles. “Each of those boys sure are good, er.” She smiles again. “Readers.”