The first sound I remember is the high pitch buzz of my alarm clock going off at 5am, then the low hum of the heat kicking on. I don’t like this sound, either one of these sounds really but I’ve got all the bedroom windows open and I hear my mom’s voice me reminding me of my wastefulness. A cocky rooster holds court directly under the bedroom window. Cock a doodle do, which translates to English as wake the fuck up! He goes on like this. The whippoorwill is still out singing his song and I can hear the hens coo and peck at the ground around the rooster outside my window. It’s not even light why they are up already? Of course it’s that darn beautiful rooster who got everybody up, as gorgeous as he is, he has no sense. I hear what sounds like seven mockingbirds all going through the routine. Light is edging its way into day.
I walk out to the kitchen to get some coffee. I don’t turn any lights on so the kids won’t know I’m up and scream for their bottle. They’re smart like that. The dogs haven’t even stirred. I return to bed a single goose honks loudly as it flies over the house. The wind pushes the curtains in and I hear the wind through the trees and through the tall fallow dried pasture grass across the narrow dirt road as I sip what is a very strong cup of coffee diluted with sweet goat milk.
I lie in bed a little longer listening, until the kids wake up and start screaming like they are absolutely starving to death and won’t live very much longer unless I get out there and put a bottle of warm goat milk in their mouth in spite of the fact that they are near weaning. I will have a conversation with them later. Soon the milk goats will have lost patience with my lingering and start calling me out to the parlor. So the day begins.