Grandpa used to leave notes to Grandma when he was going up into the field. This poem (and song) remind my mother of her dad asking Grandma in a note, "Do you still want to come up in the field with me?"Lyrics:
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long. You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. You come too.
