I've been gathering my thoughts for about a week now to write about this book called The Farm. The first page had me hooked.
"Johnny's earliest memory of the Farm was filled with snow and the sound of sleigh bells. Riding through the soft-falling drift of white, he could see the fat rumps of the horses which drew the sleigh and the steam which rose from their wet coats as they plunged forward to drag it up the steep rise in the lane beyond the bridge over the brook...Then the sleigh came to a halt beside a white picket gate beneath the drooping black branches of the Norway spruce...Out of the house came a tiny old lady and three or four enormous people, and Johnny was swept in through a hubbub of greetings and noisy kissing into a room which was warm and had a delicious smell compounded of coffee and sausages, roast turkey, and mince pie."
This lovely description had me all ready for a pleasant, cozy read about a boy growing up on a farm. Instead, it was the history of an old farm and the author's family history as it tied into this midwestern America farm. In the second chapter, I yawned and thought about stopping reading, but I kept going because that first page had been so good. I'm glad that I kept reading. It is a good author that can make their personal family history interesting to the general public. Stories of all the family from the stern Colonel, the family patriarch, the vivacious grandmother, Maria, and the author's mother kept me interested until the very end.
So, overall, this is a good book with well-developed characters and interesting, everyday adventures. Although the writing style is pretty slow and I kept it for reading when I was fully awake, I am really glad that I stuck with this book.
ROFL
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