Life on the farm can be quite the interesting one I daresay. It’s a perfect blend of peace and tranquillity that is second to none in this world. After a year of fighting to keep ignorance at bay, a holiday on the farm was just what the doctor ordered. However, the doctor never thought that an animal farm could be such an ‘interesting’ place to live.
I love sleeping; it’s on my list of top ten things that I love in this world. Needless to say, any interference with my sleep for reasons that do not directly affect the sustenance of my life may lead to a life long enmity between the perpetrator of such a heinous crime and I but I digress.
I haven’t used my alarm clock since I got home for holiday mainly because I love to sleep. However, of late I have been feeling a bit like Old McDonald from the famous childhood sing-a-long ‘Old McDonald had a farm’.
It all starts at the ungodly hour of three a.m. when the battle of the cockerels begins. The chief cockerel stamps his authority with a deep and long crow that would put all others to shame. Not to be cowed however, the neighbours’ cockerel is quick to respond and likewise with the entire zone such that in no time there’s an entire battle of the cockerels going on. You would have to be deaf to not to appreciate the efforts of the fowls as they go about their business of establishing who gets bragging rights for the entire day. This war goes on for all of an hour; which leaves one with just enough time to get back to sleep before the cattle take over as they begin their long incessant lowing in a bid to remind all that its time for them to get milked. Woe unto thee who forgets to milk them for you shall surely not sleep for their lowing is relentless. For sure, dawn is right around the corner when one finally gets back to lay his head on the pillow and try and get some sleep.
As if by some nasty twist of fate, at this particular moment is when the pigeons of yester tale show up and teach the attendant birds of the farm how to tap dance and sing-song on my window sill and has been proven in the past, silencing these breed of birds is nothing short of an impossible task.
So there goes an entire night, whether I like it or not, and up I have to be. Indeed, I have become Old McDonald from the famed folklore and established the answer to the question just how useful can an alarm clock be in these circumstances?
