I’m Lucy. But my mom calls me Donna. She says ‘Donna’ is a pretty name for any Nigerian-American girl with big brown eyes, curly black hair and a dimpled smile. But between you and me, I think she feels I’m a prima donna. (A spoilt child who pouts whenever I don’t get what I want). So, she just cut off the ‘prima’ and called me Donna.
I’m eight. People say that for an eight year old, I know pretty much. I say a lot of smart things and think of really important things. I think this is because I read a lot of books. I like books a lot. No, scratch that- I love books a lot. But I can manage for a week without them, while I visit my grandmother in Milky Way Farm.
I like the earthy smell of her farm. The earth is dark and rich. It looks good to play in. Only, I don’t want my clothes to get dirty, so that grandma won’t have to scrub for a long time when washing them.
Just yesterday, I went to feed lumps of sugar to Ginger, my favourite pony. Somehow, I made her follow me out of the stable. Then, I climbed up her back and rode around the farm yard, gently, like I’ve seen grandma do sometimes. When she saw me, she dashed out of the house, gathering her skirts as she ran. She yelled at me to stop and I pretended that I didn’t hear her. So, I rode in a circle until Grandma finally caught up with me. She was laughing hard and tears were streaming down her plump cheeks.
She told me that I was a spoilt girl, but that I was the best grandchild she has. (Never mind her; I’m the only grandchild she has). That’s the second best thing about Grandma. She doesn’t shout at me for doing things that won’t hurt anyone. She loves fun. But that’s the second best.
The best thing about grandma is the food she cooks. My grandma can whip up a mean spaghetti dish in a jiffy. She makes the best gravy in town, and my, her meatloaves are hot and delicious! Meal times are always an adventure because Grandma’s always cooking up something new, pun intended. (I’ve always wanted to say that…doesn’t it sound so grand?)This time, she made a sponge cake with little treasures in it. She told us to eat with a spoon so that we could easily find our treasures. My piece of cake had a key in it. Grandma told me that it was the key to my new diary. How did she know I’d be the one to pick that piece? Sometimes, Grandma seems to be psychic.
Another interesting thing about Grandma’s mealtimes is the ranch hands. That’s what she calls the people that work on her big farm. They all join us for the main mean of the day. They are lively and fun, so full of blood that they can work all day without getting tired. And would you believe it, one of them is a girl! When I saw Jeannie for the first time, I was confused. She didn’t have a deep voice or any hairs on her face like all the others. But she walked and talked like them. She seemed right at home among the young men, chattering like them. But I noticed that they respected her and tried to protect her, unconsciously.
I’d have loved to go with Jeannie to the town fair but I had to go home. Back in The Moonview Hotel, my parents were waiting for me at the foyer. Once I said goodbye to Grandma, I ran into their arms. Mom called me Donna and patted my back. Dad hugged me tight and told me he’d missed me. I smiled and made funny faces at them and they laughed like it was funny. That’s one thing about adults. They rarely get to see funny things, so when they see a little thing, they crack up big time.
Hmm…Lucy Donna Bells doesn’t approve of prima donnas, even if mom thinks I’m one. So, I don’t like my neighbour Sandra. She’s a spoiled brat and she gets away with whatever she does. She doesn’t even mind her P’s and Q’s. Now, who is more of a ‘Donna’? I’m tired of talking. I’m about to cover my head with my duvet (a bug once entered my ear). It’s sleeping time…yaaaawn…zzz…..