Happy Birthday and merry Christmas! I hope that you like your gift though it is a joint birthday and Christmas gift. I hope that you have a very blessed Birthday today and that when Christmas rolls around in eight days that it's a wonderful Christmas for you as well. I hope that you like this story that I wrote for you though it is full of farming admittingly. I hope that the rest of your week is filled with blessings and that whatever other gifts you get, you love. I hope that every second with your family is the best kind of blessing. I'm really happy that we started talking and became friends; you definitely are interesting, and I'm excited to share something I worked really hard on for you. I hope that despite the gritty descriptions that line the beginning of this piece of mine that you like it.
He'd become used to Northern cities, used to quiet moments within bustling metropolises, was used to the sometimes heavy work load of some of the jobs that he picked up in the city, long hours on factory lines, mundane days spent coming up with the best selling pitch to sell the most groceries or clothes or whatever.
Alfred had forgotten what it was like to get his hands dirty out here, fingers finding their home within the dirt, meticulously growing veggies and fruits and beans and whatever anyone could need, starting up a tall tractor that often felt ginormous to him.
It was an old machine, because the man that ran this farm loved the way they ran, loved the loud purr of the engine, loved the way it handled work, and Alfred couldn't agree more, because somehow the machine reminded him of the joys within the past, before even that was possible.
He easily enough found the hours fading beneath the dirt under his nails, the harsh sunlight that roasted his skin, the sweat that poured down his body in waves; he loved hard work regardless of how other nations sometimes viewed him.
This was another kind of home within his beautiful country, very different than hearing cars roam the streets practically every second, very different than his love for short store trips, very different from his love of always finding someone new, even hidden within the waves of people that crowded up cities.
There was an appeal so unlike that to hours spent grocery shopping, because you knew everyone and had to talk to them, an appeal to knowing just about everyone in town in some way, an appeal to small businesses or at the very least ones that didn't get hundreds upon thousands of customers a day.
Alfred found himself grabbing a quick shower when he saw the fruits of his daily labor, ground looking soft to the touch from being worked, animals well fed, begging for his loving attention, eggs long since collected and in the kitchen.
He needed to get cleaned up a little bit from his long day and may be swing by to see how Amelia's taking this long day, to see how things have been for her since he last visited.
Alfred's smile dazzled under the fading sunlight as he slipped out of his house or rather temporary home before he swung by the city again or somewhere else that called his attention so easily, jeans rested casually over top his legs though they had a few holes and a few tears, and t-shirt clinging to his skin from the water pooled under the shower that he just had and the muscles he'd worked all day.
The man smiled even though the day seemed nearly over, smiled because he'd draw the day out, already loved the work that he'd been doing even as he slipped on boots that still had a bit of mud on them from the long working day, watching as the sunset fizzled over the sky in beautiful orange and pinkish orange hues before it would grow to be a dark blue, before the next day's morning rays will take over the night sky hours from now.
Alfred was so thankful that he'd decided to stay here for another week or two, already looking forward to Sunday morning church services and Wednesday services that the kids in town favored so very much.
He was glad to take a day away from busy cars and crowds of people for the opposite joy of less people and lovingly close towns; Alfred hoped that no important meetings were scheduled and no work would keep him busy from a few months from now and the wonderful feeling of amassing himself within a small town fair, buying trinkets that some people didn't understand back in the cities, talking to just everyone at once, and laughing so very much.
America loved his small towns as much as he loved his cities though he didn't always have the time to slip away from big cities for relaxing, comforting, and loving small towns.