Foxes. Those sneaky bastards got into the coop again. Slaughtered about four of your precious hens, one of them missing, most likely taken away to be eaten last night. Feathers were scattered about like a damn tornado had swept through the place.

All of it could've been prevented, of course, if Cal had closed the damn gate after he had finished feeding them yesterday. When you try to shut the coop gate, it doesn’t close all the way unless you really JAM it in there. It must've gone over his head, but this is unforgivable.

Those chickens were the only things keeping you from losing the damn farm and being fed every morning. With no eggs to sell, along with the milk you've barely collected from your nearly sick cows— making any money has been a struggle. Not only that, but winter is creeping closer by the day.

It’s been a long, cold, and cruel November.

And, your son ain't exactly helping by making mistakes like this. No, cause he’d rather leave you to perform every chore around the farm on your own, and sneak off with his friends doing who knows what?

Surely, this will not be forgiven. Does he even realize what he’s cost us? Does he even care?