In everyone’s day there seems to be a race. It starts off at a young age when mom is warning you that “you’re going to miss the school bus if you don’t hurry up.”
In the morning, many people grab that extra 10 minutes of sleep, then race to get up, get dressed, miss breakfast and race to work.
On a dairy farm it’s a race to get the milking done before the milk truck comes to pick it up from the bulk tank. The milk in the tank has to be cooled to four degrees before it can be picked up.
It’s a race to get your snow tires on in the fall and get the studded tires off in the spring. Then there is that competitive race to be the first on the street to mow the lawn or have the first flower bloom in the garden. Even the birds are in a race: just as the “the early bird gets the worm”, the first hummingbird gets the pick of the sweetest blossom. The first flock of Canada geese to find the corn field gets a pick of the kernels of grain that passed through the combine last fall and were left in the corn field.
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