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Forge that story - the Birthday Competition

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king rag 1861

New Member
Beldar the blacksmith came to King Rag's city and setup shop. He found a nice spot near a bakery. There was plenty of traffic for his business and he liked the easy access to the marzipan pasties as an added benefit. He specialized in all sorts of goods like cooking pots, utensils, horseshoes, nails, and various tools amongst others. Anything you could dream up, Beldar could make it out of metal. Beldar was happy with his choice to move to this city.

King Rag the Magnificent then passed a decree to modernize the city and commenced a building project. The road to Beldar's blacksmith shop was removed. This infuriated Beldar to no end. He lost most of his business even though the road to the bakery wasn't changed, as most people could not see his shop from there. To make matters worse, today was his birthday, Beldar swore he would leave this city and the mad king. He looked out his window and he saw the massive prison being erected. It was ugly and took up most of the lower city. He thought this king is crazy and the people will eventually revolt. Even though it was his birthday, he started to pack his things, maybe his brother in Brisgard would have room for him and he could start anew there.

As Beldar continued to pack his things, he heard a knock at the door. When he opened it, and saw the face of a Captain of the King’s soldiers, "By decree of King Rag the Magnificent, your shop will be moved to other side of town". As the Captain paused he could see Beldar was already packing. "Good!" he exclaimed. "We will help you move your things to your new shop!” With that the troops brushed past Beldar and started hauling his possessions away into waiting carts. Beldar followed after the soldiers berating them the whole way. They ignored his taunts, not stopping till in front of a blacksmith shop just across the way from the prison. Baldor was incredulous. He hated that prison. Now he was going to be neighbors and on his birthday of all days! The Captain of the soldiers turned to Baldor while handing him a parchment. "This is an order for a 1000 iron bars for the prisons windows." Beldar stammered, "This will take over a year."

Beldar delivered the bars for the prison, and in addition supplied locks, doors, hinges as well as weapons and armor for the guards. Soon he was known all over the city as the King's Armorer. He came to love that prison for it changed his fortune – some birthday present eh! Hopefully this answers your question as to why Alcatraz, a prison brings happiness. Happy Birthday Forge!
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Fubar the Normal

New Member
“You are young and your values written in the blood that drips from your sword,” spoke the grizzled Berserker attempting to scour the last smear of food from his plate.

“Yet some day you will find you would trade all your sharpened steel for a bag of salt or slab of ebony.”

"Either of which I could trade for another piece of gristle to celebrate the day my mother bore me."
It was my birthday this morning when I walked out the FRONTENAC door of my CHATEAU and OBSERVATORYed the ARCTIC ORANGERY glow and it was ROYAL. ALBERT HALL stopped in for a sec to DEAL with our TRUCE. TOWER of power, that guy. He's a SAINT. BASIL'S CATHEDRAL was ARCing like a LIGHTHOUSE due to the amazing sky. I was frozen as a STATUE when ZEUS, my neighbor, came AACHEN me to do a favor. I put on my CAPE and got KRAKEN. Before we finished there was GALATA, TOWERing over us. She hit HIMEJI right between the eyes and kicked him in the TEMPLE of RELICS (which really hurts at our age). Of course in the confusion I couldn't understand what people were saying. You'd have thought we were in the TOWER of BABEL. Once things settled down a bit we started work on the CAST DEL MONTE had on his leg. I finally had enough and said let's go to ALCATRAZ for the rest of the day.


New Member
The Blue Galaxy Birthday

Today, the citizens of Coumbaya’s Château Party city are celebrating my birthday! As a gift back to the community, I was asked to tell the story of how I came about building The Blue Galaxy in my city many moons ago. It just happened that on that day, it was also my birthday and quite the birthday it had been. To put things into context, prior to building the Blue Galaxy, I had raised my very own Observatory to look at the various celestial “bodies” in the heavens and the “beauties” in my city. Indeed, the Observatory in my city gave an unparalleled view to the northern beach where bikini flaunting girls and, unfortunately at times, speedo wearing men came to take pictures of the Langskip Viking ship when it was in the docks. At night, the Observatory allowed me to search into the cosmos, look at the stars and dream of discovering new planets. Of all I have observed, I have enjoyed finding this blue galaxy the most! Have a look: https://wallpaperplay.com/walls/full/5/1/b/91780.jpg

In any event, it was the day of my birthday and it was a bright sunny afternoon. The Langskip had came back from another of its voyages... but then I heard a very loud female scream coming from the Northern beach. Being a brave individual, I ran towards the piercing sound immediately. Once at the beach, I introduced myself to this pretty lady who had a jelly fish stuck on her leg. She was in pain. Some people surrounding her were telling me to pee on her leg, others suggesting that I bring her to the water and remove it with the salted sea water, but those removal methods are simply myths. Quite frankly, I was not going to start peeing on a girl even if she asked me or paid me to do it… at least not in public. Putting these ideas aside, I signaled this guy who strangely had a winter hat on while at the beach, and who’s name I later found out was BangerNYC, and told him to run to the chip stand nearby. No, I didn’t ask for him to come back with French fries but rather to retrieve some vinegar to help remove the jellyfish. While waiting for Banger to come back, I asked her friends if they had tweezers in case any nematocysts or stingers would need to be plucked out after the jellyfish removal. One of her friends said she had tweezers in her purse. Finding them was memorable as she and her friends were still panicking a bit… she started looking in her purse frantically and then decided to just flip it upside down on her beach towel to get all the items out. I was amazed at how many things came out of there. I wondered how all those items could possibly fit in her handbag and why she had felt the need to bring all that stuff to the beach in the first place? Putting aside the mysteries of the opposite gender, she finally found the tweezers and Banger was already running back from the chip stand with a 4L vinegar jug.

We proceeded to pouring the vinegar on the jellyfish to get it removed. It worked quite well and rapidly. We didn’t need the tweezers after all. Banger and I were heroes! The natural thing to do next was to exchange phone numbers with the ladies and invite them all to my famous Saturday Night Château party later that night during which the main event was a huge Coumbaya style birthday dash! Before even leaving the scene, Banger and I were already looking quite forward to the evening's fun times ahead. However, we also asked ourselves where the jellyfish had originated from as we had never seen any in the waters here before. Looking at the beach, there was a collection of different kinds of jellyfish species that had washed up on the shore. We concluded they must have hitch hiked on the Viking ship’s haul as it travelled back from the settlements. As we were discussing this, the mayor of the city arrived on scene and started stating that he would get the municipal workers to clean up the beach immediately to prevent the invasive jellyfish species from proliferating. I pulled him aside and suggested we could turn this situation into a venture as I had blueprints for an amazing Oceanic Future style set of aquariums in which we could put in all the various types of captured jellyfishes to serve as a new tourist attraction. With the right materials, from time to time, it would additionally help us yield double the output of our city’s resource and forge point producing buildings! However, I did not have the necessary materials. Coincidently, Banger had all the goods to realize the project and accepted every single one of my ridiculously unfair trades! Odd thing is, as I was looking at the blueprints and at the jellyfish themselves, I wondered if the invasive jellyfishes were not in fact small washed-up aliens. To this day, I can’t help but to think that the final product looks like the captured Roswell alien harvesters in the Independence Day movie: https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net...est/scale-to-width-down/352?cb=20141214164529.

The morning after that phenomenally successful Château birthday party and penthouse after party, I was armed with my blueprints, the mayor’s nod, the city permits and the necessary Oceanic Future’s goods. And so I decided that it was the perfect time to put my city’s aquarium in sticks to bricks! But what should I call it I wondered? In honour of my Observatory Hubble-like earlier finding, I decided to name it “The Blue Galaxy” aquarium. So come and visit my Blue Galaxy everyone! Admission is free but contributions are always greatly appreciated! And don't forget to wish Coumbaya happy birthday! Cheers!
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New Member
Precariously balanced on a flimsy ladder, the boy chuckled to himself as he painted the last swirl of the mustache onto the Oracle of Delphi. He tiptoed barefoot next door to the shoemaker’s small shop with hammer and nails in hand. “Won’t they find it funny when these shoes don’t come of the floor.” He said as he nailed them quietly to the ground.

He passed the Statue of Zeus and rounded the corner, strolling nonchalantly down to the Rosarium. A gardener with spade in hand suddenly rounded the corner, as the boy ducked down trying not to be seen. “Just a few more rose tops.” He said smiling slyly. After he had broken a few more blooms off the flowers, he headed to the beekeepers.

After he had released two hives of bees, he got stung and backed right into the beekeeper, who grabbed his arm. “What are you doing boy?” the beekeeper said angrily. Suddenly around the corner came a mob of angry people. “To the town hall with him!” they yelled, shaking their fists.

By the time they reached the town hall, the whole town had gathered. “He nailed down my shoes!” yelled the shoemaker. “And defamed the Oracle,” cried a woman. “And ruined my roses” wept the gardener, “not to mention my beestings.” The Mayor turned to him, “What do you have to say for yourself.” The boy grinned. “I’m turning nine this year and mother said I couldn’t have a party, but I really wanted everyone to get together and here we are. This is the best birthday party ever!”:)


New Member
By the time she awoke, the sun was already fairly high in the sky. But no matter, she was allowed to sleep in on her birthday. She looked out the window and smiled to see the rabbits frolicking, the deer nibbling in the grass, and the butterflies flitting about the flowers. Spring always seemed like the best time of year for a birthday.

She quickly dressed and began her walk into town to meet up with her friends for brunch at the Terracotta Vineyard, where she knew she could splurge on a mimosa with her breakfast pizza. But first, her mid-morning appointment at the Coiffeur for a fresh look.

After brunch, they decided to take a stroll around town, enjoying the weather and occasionally stopping to appreciate the architecture of the town’s Great Buildings from previous eras, still standing proud and strong. They continued toward Town Hall, passing several sacred temples, parks and the busy harbor along the way. They decided to do a little browsing at the Exotic Goods Vendor, as well as the Antiques Dealer. Next door was the Town Tavern.

By then, they were ravenous. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful birthday, enjoying the camaraderie with friends, the delicious stouts and ales offered at the tavern, some fun foods to nosh on, and a few bar games. As the sun began to set, they bid their farewells and birthday wishes and made their separate journeys homeward. They were all looking forward to the next birthday in their group of friends………


New Member
Epithymía's Celebration
(note: epithymía is wish in greek)

It was April 17th, Epithymía's birthday. Not that it mattered, since no one would remember anyway. In her thatched house, she lived alone (apparently it was supposed to be for 27 people, but the people who were going to be her housemates had left the city) and worked 60 hour weeks at the local pottery. Maybe her parents remembered her birthday, if they were still alive. A little part inside of Epithymía hoped they were dead. No! She told herself, negativity is not the way to go. Yet, she seemed surrounded by it. It was hard not to resent her parents, who just- well, ditched her years ago. On that fateful morning, she realized that she would be alone in this scary, unjust, world. 16 years later, at the age of 23, she still felt alone, even though she was almost always surrounded by people.

Epithymía finished her breakfast and window staring session. She grabbed her bag and grudgingly trudged up the rough path to the pottery. Just as she had expected, none of her workmates remembered her birthday. She did notice that there was someone new working near her. After finishing a flagon, she looked more closely at the new worker. She was surprised to find that he was a man! Usually men were working as hunters! Maybe he was too young, he looked younger than Epithymía. He caught Epithymía staring at him, who, flustered, returned back to her work. After a long day of work, the man was waiting at the entrance of the pottery. Could he be waiting for her?

Oh, what does he want now? Epithymía wondered. She was going to walk up to him, but he didn't (or at least pretended not to) notice her. She saw him wave to another woman who looked to be about 50-60 years old. Maybe I should stop thinking that I’m the center of the universe, she chastised herself, my parents clearly showed me that. “Hey Mom,” the man said, “let’s go home. I’ve had enough of people staring at me.” Feeling guilty, Epithymía watched as the man and woman walked hand-in-hand past the pillar, the dye works, and the longhouse to the dwelling area. Epithymía wished that she could walk home with someone too. Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to my-self, Happy birthday to me! Epithymía scrawled the words in the dirt outside of the pottery, as if doing that would make her dreams come true.

Strange, the lights are already on in my home, thought Epithymía. She decided that she had just forgotten to turn the lights off. She opened the door to the thatched house and- “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Her workmates were all there, they had remembered all along! She smiled and thanked everyone. They had prepared a cake, which was rare in the city! However, three people in the crowd stood out. It was the man, the man’s mom, and an older man. “Epithymía, after all of these years, we found you!” the older man cried. Shocked, Epithymía realized that this was her family! Tears like rare diamonds started to roll down her face. She hugged them tightly and suddenly, all her negative feelings dissolved as the positive feelings conquered them. Epithymía found her family.

I thought the ending was rushed but I hope you enjoyed the short story regardless! This is kind of long, but it’s technically 4 paragraphs… right?
Word Count: 527

Man In Black 50

New Member
My 50th birthday last year was spent much as I would imagine most others spent their daily lives -- wondering if they would survive the pestilence that had come to our city, perhaps to the entire world.

Our doctor, clad in his plague mask and hooded cloak, roamed the city warning people not to congregate -- even within our city's church. Not an easy prospect with twenty estate houses in such close proximity to each other.

I spent this most significant birthday with my family in our quarters in one of the two town houses within the Commons. We have a breathtaking view overlooking the Statue of Honor, the magnificent Lighthouse, the Suishun Mill, and... and the Maypole. The Maypole stood alone and neglected -- no children out to dance a jig around it on That May day. None at all.

We are nearly a year further on now. My 51st birthday swiftly approaches, despite my own bout with the pestilence which nearly put an end to my days this past November. The doctor -- still clad in his plague mask and hooded cloak -- has been spreading the news that a cure of some sort may have been found. We have spent so much time counting our dead that it almost seems foolish to hold out much hope. Perhaps tomorrow I will consult the Oracle to garner the truth of the matter. This -- like all things -- must eventually pass... nay?
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Active Member
"boy, boy! Stop theif!" yells the groundskeeper for the Statue of Zeus as Timmy, the local hooligan runs off with the bread that was just placed by a nice couple at the statue's feet in reverence for there beloved god.
'I could lose my Job' the groundskeeper mutters to the birds flying by.
If only he hadn't had hurt his leg last winter... that boy... well, I guess wouldn't have bread for christmas- and a statue would.
A year ago he had been sweeping some snow of his carriage when he had fallen and deemed 'never to walk again.'
Well.. what did the doctors know, the groundskeeper had been up and about a few months later.
Although It was a shame the youth had to be wasted on the young: like Timmy.

He was suddenly startled from his thoughts as a carriage drove by knocking snow on him and the steps of the Statue, he lifted his cane from it's resting place against the wall and kicked some of the snow out of the way as he hobbled up the steps to the statue and too a backdoor inside it, a whole series of steps was made inside the Statue, which had a small sleeping area. The groundskeeper worked his way up a other 2 dozen more steps, finally reaching the top he rested his cane against the wall. It was a wonderful view from up here he thought as he took out a match and some kerosene soaked sticks. He chucked the sticks in a torch in the statues staff and lit them.

The fire quickly blazed high, and a trickle of smoke twirled into the sky. Looking from ground level you would have seen poor blokes, hunger, kids without homes and you would have smelled a terrible stench. But from up high on the statue... you could see past all that, into the high echelon of society, past the rotting bodies and the broken buildings... there was a wonderful city, for the rich. Although barely few people even remained on Earth because of the mass migration to Venus and Mars.

All that was left was a shell of a planet.
A shell that he wouldn't ever escape he thought.
He then lit a little candle on a half of a cupcake, and celebrated his birthday by his self for the 5th year in a row.
He had been alone ever since his son left to mars with his rich mother on one of the earliest colonization's, his son had promised to send him video chat's every day, but he only ever did twice, and his ex-wife (son's mother), well they never talked at all. He still made a silent prayer for there safety and his own. As he watched the smoke looped around in the sky, he envied the smoke, cause it was free of the oppression, it knew nothing, felt nothing, and did nothing.
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FOE Team
Co-Community Manager
A reminder : the contest finishes at midnight server time! Just a few more hours to enter! Good luck everyone :)

Captain Misson

New Member
“A Day To Remember, I Hope”​

The day breaks bright and clear over the rooftops of Libertalia as I wake and rise slowly from my straw-filled palette in the upper storey of the jewelry masons’ temple. Oooh, my back! These old bones aren’t getting any younger. Which remindeth me, this day, what was – Seven devils! Whence that infernal racket!? Is the blacksmith at it again this early, who hath woken me at this hour? No, it cannot be. I finally got the council to move his shop to a more fitting location on the outskirts of town so I could get some thinking done around here. Captain Misson was just good enough to secure me this prime location for my workshop, with enough space to properly house all my scientific equipment for a change; I must strive to make some worthy new discoveries and not disappoint him. But what’s this clattering, by Zeus?? I try to peer out the window, but my cases of flasks and beakers and bones and scholarly tomes block the view of near all but the sky, so I must needs go downstairs and have a look in person. Those stairs require some diligence though... Where is my cane? And where did I lay that book by Cervantes? By the time I locate the tome and reach the front door, the road is quiet with no one in sight. Hmm. I hobble across the cobblestones to the longhouse and find my usual seat in a corner to take my breakfast. There I sit and eat the hearty gruel with a wooden spoon, whilst sipping a fine cup of hot brew made from those peculiar beans our soldiers brought back from the jungles. They do much to stimulate the mind and body, of a morning! The sun grows brighter now – it will be a fine day. Already I see the tourists beginning to line up across the way, waiting to ask their questions of the Oracle as clouds of smoke and incense billow up from her chamber beneath the Doric columns and her acolytes pound out a slow rhythm on their drums. A wry smile parts my lips. The sacred lady is too clever by half for these yokels from the provinces. Whatso’er they asketh – Will the wheat crop be good this year?, Will my daughter give birth to a boy or a girl? – she will intone a mysterious answer that appears to reveal much,but in truth revealeth naught. ‘Tis truly a lot of superstitious nonsense, but I keep that opinion to mine self. Carefully opening the volume written by the Spanish gentleman to the place I last left his tale, I begin to read.

Some time later I am startled by an excited voice, spilling the remains of my “coffee” and only just managing to avoid drenching the fine penmanship of the noble Cervantes (or mayhaps his scribe). “Master, do come quick! The aqueduct hath broken again, and thy wisdom is needed!” Confound it, I just supervised the repairing of that blasted thing – last week, twere? No end to these interruptions! Joachim is a good lad and a fine apprentice as they go, but so much energy! It maketh me tired just watching him. I would fain sit a while longer, but now he is picking up my book, taking me by the arm, and leading me quickly out of the place, leaving behind a few copper pieces – a good thing that, I confess, as I realize I neglected to bring my purse with me. The sun is well nigh overhead now, as we make our way down the road. Passing the goat farm, my young assistant is distracted by a comely lass in a white apron and bonnet, who if I am not mistaken did just give him a broad wink. She must be the maid who delivers the milk, as I e’er see her walking back and forth upon our streets. Speaking of the streets, this town hath grown mightily! There used to be a road went right‘round the castle, but the council removed it some years past to make room for more housing, fating us to a longer walk this day. So many people! One sees new faces all the time of late… And the foreigners! First the rough Vikings with their big hairy beards and their big hairy dogs, and now the sun-darkened Egyptians with their strange garments and strange gods, hath made their way to our shores. Not to mention all the lords and ladies of neighboring lands who are constantly getting drunk on our fine rum at The Merry Maiden, the big tavern up on the hill outside town. I fancy I can hear their carousing from here, even now at midday, but mayhaps‘’tis but the wind. Still, it ill suiteth me to complain; their coins help buy the ingredients of my potions, and the parchment for my scribblings.

At last, holding our noses as we pass the stables of the mounted archers and heavy cavalry, we reach the aqueduct. Verily‘’tis a marvelous invention, if you’ll pardon me saying so. Our architect Francoise built it just as I specified, tall enough so that when raised by machinery, the waters of our stream canst flow contrary to their natural direction, downhill into the city, to provide water for our mills, fountains, and much else. Strangely though, all here is quiet. There be no sign of the men working the pumps, nor a soul anywhere about. Yet otherwise, as far as my old eyes can see, everything about the apparatus appears to be functioning normally. Brushing aside my questions, Joachim urges me onward, half dragging me around to the back of the structure, whereupon rounding a corner – “SURPRISE!!!” I fall back on my heels, quite stunned by an immense shout from the multitude that greets us. There are hundreds – nay, must be o’er a thousand people, all decked out in their feast-day finery! “Happy birthday, Master!” shouts my apprentice, his eyes bright with excitement. The crowd parts, revealing to my amazement what must have been making all that clatter on the road at daybreak. One of the big new catapults I designed for General Grievus hath been completed, and evidently pulled over the cobblestones to this spot from the workshop across town where last I saw it under construction some days past. Passing buckets, the pirates soon fill the mighty war machine up with a goodly load of manure from the stables, and when they are finished, I am given the honor of cutting the rope they hath tied off. Captain Misson hands me an ornate ivory knife from Madagascar, a ceremonial gift from a native chieftain which once belonged to his namesake, the original Captain Misson, ere our forefathers were driven from that land. Our present Captain (the honorary name is given to each holder of the office of Representative) salutes the members of our elected council, seated behind him on a little dais, and gives me a wave of his hand, whereupon I cut the rope – not without a moment of hesitation, for I know how dearly that rope hath cost us in trade! The instrument’s massive arm springs forward, sending a huge barrel’s worth of manure hurling toward the shop of the antique dealers, which sitteth across a small meadow from us, a space apart from the town. Twere well aimed, and the mechanism worked like a charm. We did well to research physics! The manure lands with a great splat upon their big canvas tent, which sags under the weight, and a great chorus of laughter goes up, along with some scattered cheers and a handful of boos. Alas, few among us are perfect libertarians, but we hath those who be our conscience in such matters. These crafty dealers are much resented for keeping us dickering all day whenso’er we offer to sell them aught from our vaults of which we no longer hath need, wearing out our good townsfolks’ patience until they part with their items for far less than they be worth. Yet methinks it will wash over in a few days. Perchance we shall gift them some goat cheese. At day’s end, we and the antiquarians need each other, and the desire to trade keepeth us from real blows.

In all the hubbub that commences as the merchants emerge to shake their fists and curse at us, I have a mind to slip away and get back to my book. How’er I am espied and soon o’erwhelmed by the merry crowd, who taketh me up in their arms and bear me back down the road until we reach the old theater. Forsooth, the stage‘twere empty when Joachim and I passed it but half an hour ago, but now it hath of a sudden been decked out with garlands and streamers, and some of the pirates have set up on it with their guitars and other musical instruments. They break into a rousing sea shanty about a clever old captain who fools an enemy fleet in the fog by setting out a flotilla of little rafts strung out along long lines in either direction from the ship, each with but two or three men upon it, but speaking into long echoing tubes so that their voices resembled a multitude, thereby deceiving the enemy into thinking themselves surrounded by his vessels and causing them to surrender straightaway. Someone brings me a chair and sitteth me in the center facing the stage, and the young people dance upon the lawn among the druids’ stones amid more music and singing, and we all drink our fill and eateth of some special cake that our great chef Camembert hath prepared. The man may be a touch mad – he insisteth we must allow him a “restaurant” atop the staggeringly tall Tower of Babel which be yet under construction (i’faith, some say twill ne’er be completed!), albeit no sane soul possessed of hunger would deign climb all those stairs to eat his fare at such a height as to turn the stomach of anyone not accustomed to being aloft in the rigging of our sailing ship the Victoire – yet none can deny his culinary mastery! I lick my lips, gulp some more of the Vikings’ honey mead which we savor on feast days, and am glad that my fellow Libertalians recalled the day of my birth, e’en if it didst somehow escape mine own memory!

* * *​


Well-Known Member
As he rocked on his top deck, Zeke looked over his pasture and thought of his cows. How lucky they have it compared to him. Fresh air, fresh water, fresh grass, a warm barn at night, not a care in the world. Meanwhile, Zeke's up at dawn, doing everything needed so they can have the easy life.

But Zeke likes the work. Sure, at his age, he can't do all the things the younger hands can do, but he's still strong, still fit, albeit a bit achy at times. Heck, who's he kidding, most of the time. But there's a certain satisfaction that only comes from working with your hands. Caring for something, watching it grow. Up at 3 am to help with a difficult birth, praying for rain when there ain't none, going to bed after a hard day's work, to do it all again tomorrow.

Raising livestock is hard work, but it's good work. Real work. Now they want to grow meat in a lab? Really? What kind of life is that? What kind of food is that? No, Zeke makes real food and is damn proud of it. Suddenly, roused from his rambling thoughts, he hears the Mrs. ringing the dinner bell.

A bit slower than years ago, Zeke raises his large frame from his chair and walks inside. The moment he does the smell of dinner hits him. Nothing fancy, ole Zeke is a simple man with simple tastes. Roasted potatoes and veges from the garden, homemade sourdough rolls, and a nice slab of his home grown steak. It may not be an easy life, but it's a good life and Zeke wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.
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