Sunny Farmhouse part 1
The chicken feed was stacked neatly in the pantry, Millie’s dungaree overalls had been washed and folded on the bed, and the empty glass milk bottles still needed recycling.
“Don’t forget to check for bottles that look new,” Sarah reminded her daughter. “Those can be refilled for your father’s milk round tomorrow morning.”
As the words left her mouth, Sarah worried she might be piling too many errands onto her twelve-year-old.
“Yes, Mum—feed the chickens, sort the bottles. I got it!” Millie groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a kid anymore. Why don’t you let Lola help with all that and give me something proper to do? Something grown-up! I know this farm better than anyone, and you know it!”
Lola, only seven, was Millie’s little sister. Most days the girls got along—except, of course, when they didn’t.
Sarah folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe of Millie’s room, studying her daughter’s defiant face. “How about this,” she said. “Prove to me you can manage everything I asked—today, without any hiccups—and then I’ll speak to your father about letting you join him
on the weekend farm tours.”
Saturdays at Sunny Farmhouse were the busiest days of the week. Families arrived with children eager to feed the animals, local shopkeepers placed their dairy orders, and the scrappy band from Foxglove Lane—those hopeful musicians in their battered townhouse—played their hearts out for anyone who would listen. It was a cheerful little fair, of sorts. But for Millie, it was far from fun.
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