Dan woke up, glancing at the clock that sat on the head board of his giant California King bed.
5:15 AM, the lighted numbers on the clock radio read.
It wasn't set to go off, no need for that. Dan woke up every single day within a few minutes of the same time without fail.
It made no difference at all what time Dan went to bed, still he would awake and get up around 5, sleep after that time was impossible.
He had been doing that since he was big enough to work around the ranch, his Father would come in and wake him, and he would dutifully follow along as they went down to the barn.
Danny had been a bit of a surprise to his folks, somewhat of an accident very late in life. It seemed his Mom and Dad were having fun at a harvest party one Fall that everyone went to.
They both drank some beer, something his Dad almost never did. Since his Mom was thinking she was past all of the concerns of being fertile, they hadn't bothered with the usual condoms.
His Dad did wisecrack something about it being on top of the grain sacks in the back of the old 1936 GMC truck but that is all the detail he ever got about that.
The condoms part Danny knew about, having seen them in the drawer by their bed when he went in there one time to get a flashlight his Dad had asked for. Several packets were opened.
Dan had grinned to himself at that, his Dad by then was coming up on 70 years old and still used them?
Some folks just got set in their ways, it seemed.
His Father was a large man, 6'3" and 235 pounds, and little Danny delighted in being with him, even on the days when it was biting cold or the Southwest wind with rain howled through the draw down by their South pasture, sending slanting sheets of water past the sloughs to the East.
"HMMMMM-BOSS!" His Dad would bellow, the milk cows heads would swing up and look, even though they were a full half mile away. Then they began to move, at a walk at first but soon they all broke into a run, racing each other to get there first for the sweet grain Danny was pouring into the feeding troughs.
His Father stayed on the outside with them, but he always made Danny stay on the other side of the feeding trough by the stack of loose hay, to make sure he didn't get stomped by the huge animals.
Typically they were on the energetic side when they reached the barn, kicking their heels and excited about getting a few bites of the grain.
None of them seemed to mind getting their heads locked into the stanchions if there was food there for them.
Next it was wash their udders, dry them, and sit down to milk. Danny loved the feel of trapping the warm milk, then pulling it out, creating heaps of foam in the metal pail.
Sometimes one of the barn Cats came by hoping, Danny would point and squirt the Cat in the face with a nice shot from the cow's teat.
The Cat loved that of course and his Dad would just grin.
Every day was the same, after the milking it was back to the house where his Mother presented huge mountains of food. Later it was off to one chore or another, there was never any end, there was no way to ever get it all done.
+++
Little Danny liked Sundays, the three of them went to services at the Church and after he could then go and play with the other kids.
Just for a little while, by afternoon it was back to the work.
Danny had a sister, her name was Florence. She left home before he was even born, by the time Danny was in his teens he understood why. His sister was older than him by nearly two decades, Danny knew his cousin Otis had been the reason.
Things like that, back in that era, were a family embarrassment.
He didn't like Otis much, whenever his sister was around Otis would be mean to him, since he was older by a few years.
Of course that was always when they were out of sight, because his Father had that big leather marine belt and was quite happy to use it if he was disobeyed or some kind of trouble was going on.
A couple of times Otis got caught, much to Danny's pleasure.
Otis was clever enough after that to never do anything unless they were out of sight.
Danny never told on him though, since his Dad always said that he should stand up for himself and be a man when anything happened.
Danny was fourteen when Florence and Otis showed up one afternoon, she did that fairly regularly, always wanting some money. Otis was barely 20 by then, and of course he started his usual crap.
Danny was working on the beaten up New Holland hay baler, his Dad had found the old machine down the road a piece, and bought it from their neighbor for $1400.00.
To their family, that was a huge investment.
Of course it didn't work, the neighbor had fought it for two seasons and gave up, buying a new one.
Every time the power takeoff on their old Massey Ferguson was dropped into gear, the machine would start to run, then the safety clutch would slip as the pickup reels stopped.
As it turned out, his Dad couldn't fix it either, and he got very frustrated after continually snugging up the clutch springs until it actually picked the entire reel up when it jammed.
"This don't make no god damned sense at all!" His Dad threw down his wrench, giving up.
Danny was looking under the machine, trying to figure out what was wrong when Otis walked up. Otis proceeded to step on Danny's foot, then he laughed.
"Quit it, Otis!" Danny yelled.
"Whatcha gonna do about it?" Otis teased, stepping on him even harder.
Danny bit his tongue, pulled his feet back, now he was completely underneath the machine. Otis found a stick and was poking the sharp end of it at Danny, so Danny slid even further underneath there.
It was pretty tight, but Danny was only 125 pounds and on the skinny side, even though he was close to 5'9" tall.
Otis was still teasing him, Danny reached for a piece of the frame to pull himself farther underneath when he looked up and saw the shiny spot on the big eccentric drum that operated the hay pickup fingers.
One of the idler bearings was completely gone, leaving just the mounting bolt, it was digging into the round cam that worked the hay pickup fingers.
Of course! With that going on, the pickup fingers would lock up, and the safety clutch would slip. When they snugged up the big springs that kept tension on the clutch, it was going to slip anyway when the reels stopped, otherwise anything going into the machine, like wire or a fence post would tear the machine to pieces.
There were also some marks where a pitch fork had gone though there at one time or another.
Just then Otis stuck him with the stick again, damn it, that hurt!
"Quit it, Otis! I am trying to fix this thing!" He yelled as Otis poked him again.
"Yer too dumb to fix anything!" Otis was laughing at him.