This is for all the boys in my neighborhood who grew up on a farm in the 1960s and 1970s. We had family picnics, church school, snowmobiles that didn’t run, and a mom who wrote excuses for us to stay home from school to drive tractor. It was a great time to be a kid. May this book give you fond memories and warm your heart.

Back when I was young, we had family picnics and I would bring my fishing pole to the lake. 

As a young lad, I got to be able to drive dad’s farm truck before I could even touch the brake. 

“Just a boy on a farm.” 

I would spend my mornings feeding baby calves and it seemed like they never got full. 

There was also a day I went to the pasture to bring home the cows and Dad forgot to tell me about the bull.

“Just a boy on a farm.” 

I would pretend to be Davey Crockett or Daniel Boone shooting my pellet gun at Dad’s beer cans. 

This was back when we always had time to help Dad give the neighbor a hand. 

“Just a boy on a farm.”