Today is auction day at the Cambridge Valley Livestock Auction, the big trailers and trucks pull in from dawn to dark with cows, sheep, goats, bulls to be put up for auction.

On auction days, Amy McLenithan gets up at 4 a.m. and sets up her red Country Kitchen. I came by tonight and saw her trailer out in the vast auction parking light like a bright oasis, the farmers came down from the auction for coffee or a burger or piece of cake.

I asked Amy if she was considering making New Year’s week off, her days are often long and grueling, although she clearly loves what she does.

Amy knows everybody and their car, and if ever want to know what those lights and sirens were about when you drove past, she is the one to ask.

Maybe, she said about taking off New Year’s week, but probably not. She feels guilty when she closes down, she said,  worried that somebody who needs or wants a meal might not be able to get one.

No short cuts for Amy, no special days off. It is her mission to feed the farmers who come by with their cows, and civilians like me who just drive by.

Amy is one of those people who never have to be urged to work harder, she drives herself all of the time, and now she has the cold to deal with as well. She is the very embodiment of country tough, and she has a work ethic that any employer would love, although I doubt she’d ever put up with being told what to do.

Still, even on these long and hard days and nights, she looks happy, like a Queen on her throne. She is where she belongs.

Come by next Thursday, she says, I’ll probably have some pie. I got two slices of carrot cake tonight.

Amy’s Country Wagon has only been open a few months, but it feels as if I’ve known her all of my life.  Her trailer looks as if it has roots flowing into the ground. She is a part of our landscape now.