After getting some feed back from a couple of readers I have decided to take the blog in a little different direction. The posts that seem to get the most likes are the more personal ones and as with any that are used in movie plots the same holds true.
I try to be a very organized person. My kids used to say I kept them on a military schedule haha. In my attempt to be organized I make numerous amounts of lists. Some get checked off and others are still waiting their turn. What I have learned from having a farm is that organization is very important but not necessarily easily followed.
A classic example of this would be the watering of the pigs and chickens. I have a 50 gallon plastic barrel that I load onto the mule and fill with water. During the summer months I would have to climb on the mule with the barrel and empty it by pail full into water containers. I never came home dry. As the weather got colder my loving husband made a pump that hooks to the battery. This has been the best gift I have ever received.
In my attempt to be organized I try to go up every 2 days and give them fresh water. I have this in my mind that it needs to be done. But sometimes the pigs just don't want to work with that schedule. And as you know if one thing gets thrown out of whack in a schedule it puts everything else off. On warm days the pigs will knock over their water tub to make a mud puddle to waller around in. I really don't mind this that much because I love watching them play in it and they try to take the water hose from me. The odd thing is that when it is just me giving them water-they play and act silly. But if someone else is there with me they don't do anything. It's kind of like when your child learns a word and refuses to say it after you have been bragging on them to everyone. I'm guessing that this is just a special little they do with just me.
The chickens are easy. They are strange but easy. They will drink the water that I pour out of their containers before they drink the fresh water in the tubs. Pigs are easy to figure out but not the chickens.
While I am doing this chore of watering and feeding I think about my maternal grandfather and great grandfather who were farmers. I don't remember them having pigs or chickens but I know they did because a lot of what I know I learned from my mom who helped take care of theirs when she was growing up. While I have the modern tools of the pump for the barrel of water and the mule to ride to carry it, my grand parents didn't have these things. Their pens were either near the pond or the buckets of water were carried from the well. I do remember both of my grandfathers having the kind of wells that you see in old movies. They were the kind with the wooden bucket on a pulley system that you lowered into the well and brought up with the best tasting water EVER. I know how tired I am at the end of the day even with the modern conveniences that I have to help me along. I can't imagine how tired they were at the end of the day.
But what I remember is they never seemed tired. My grandpa always had time to share little tid bits of wisdom. The things he taught me were probably common knowledge to everyone else but to me he was the smartest man in the world.
I loved going to his farm. The house was exactly one mile down a dirt road through a cow pasture and into the woods. It opened up to the tobacco fields and the little cinder block house rested in a small pine thicket. Most of the kids I grew up with had never been to an outhouse before but that is exactly what my grandfather had when I was a child. There was no running water in the house either. There was however a bath tub in the kitchen. It was recessed into a wall complete with a shower curtain and all. My grandma would heat water from the well to fill the tub for our bathes. This always seemed like an adventure to me. It was kind of like camping all the time. I loved it and hated the day that grandpa put running water in the house for grandma. I felt like some of the adventure had gone out of the farm.
I also have a vague memory of the ice man. That's right-a man that actually brought huge blocks of ice to the house. There was an ice box on the back porch because that was the cool side of the house and the sun never reached the porch. He used those huge claw like ice picks to pick up the ice. I even had nightmares about him and those claws a couple of times.
Grandpa heated with a wood stove in the winter and my job was to help bring in the wood. I never got to help build the fire bit I did get to put the lighter in the heater while he loaded it with wood. I remember waking up and the house would be soooo cold. Grandpa would get up before everyone else and get the fire going. Once the fire was going grandma got up and got the coffee and breakfast started. Once all that was going and the chill had gone off the floor in the livingroom it was safe to get up and grandpa and I would get started with our day.
I loved those times and miss them dearly. Kids today just have no idea the fun and innocense of growing up on a farm. I remember all the smells like they were yesterday. I remember the feel of the cast iron tub and the warm towel that had been thrown over a chair near the wood stove so that it would be warm when I got out of the tub. I remember the heavy grandma quilts that were piled so high that you had no choice but to sleep because you couldn't move. I remember being wide open during the cool mornings and cool evenings and that we napped during the heat of the day in that cool little cinder block house in the pine thicket.
Things like this don't exist anymore and kids today would think you were neglecting them or abusing them if they had to grow up this way. But for me this was the best times of my life. So when I have a farm chore that I start out dreading I remember those times and how much simpler they are for me to do than my grandparents. It makes me miss him more each time but it also gives me a greater understanding into the man he was and how lucky I am to have had him influence my life. He never seemed to go by lists or schedules that I knew of. He just got up and knew what had to be taken care of and if a kink happened in the day he just simply dealt with it and kept on going. That's what I am trying to learn to do.
I try to be a very organized person. My kids used to say I kept them on a military schedule haha. In my attempt to be organized I make numerous amounts of lists. Some get checked off and others are still waiting their turn. What I have learned from having a farm is that organization is very important but not necessarily easily followed.
A classic example of this would be the watering of the pigs and chickens. I have a 50 gallon plastic barrel that I load onto the mule and fill with water. During the summer months I would have to climb on the mule with the barrel and empty it by pail full into water containers. I never came home dry. As the weather got colder my loving husband made a pump that hooks to the battery. This has been the best gift I have ever received.
In my attempt to be organized I try to go up every 2 days and give them fresh water. I have this in my mind that it needs to be done. But sometimes the pigs just don't want to work with that schedule. And as you know if one thing gets thrown out of whack in a schedule it puts everything else off. On warm days the pigs will knock over their water tub to make a mud puddle to waller around in. I really don't mind this that much because I love watching them play in it and they try to take the water hose from me. The odd thing is that when it is just me giving them water-they play and act silly. But if someone else is there with me they don't do anything. It's kind of like when your child learns a word and refuses to say it after you have been bragging on them to everyone. I'm guessing that this is just a special little they do with just me.
The chickens are easy. They are strange but easy. They will drink the water that I pour out of their containers before they drink the fresh water in the tubs. Pigs are easy to figure out but not the chickens.
While I am doing this chore of watering and feeding I think about my maternal grandfather and great grandfather who were farmers. I don't remember them having pigs or chickens but I know they did because a lot of what I know I learned from my mom who helped take care of theirs when she was growing up. While I have the modern tools of the pump for the barrel of water and the mule to ride to carry it, my grand parents didn't have these things. Their pens were either near the pond or the buckets of water were carried from the well. I do remember both of my grandfathers having the kind of wells that you see in old movies. They were the kind with the wooden bucket on a pulley system that you lowered into the well and brought up with the best tasting water EVER. I know how tired I am at the end of the day even with the modern conveniences that I have to help me along. I can't imagine how tired they were at the end of the day.
But what I remember is they never seemed tired. My grandpa always had time to share little tid bits of wisdom. The things he taught me were probably common knowledge to everyone else but to me he was the smartest man in the world.
I loved going to his farm. The house was exactly one mile down a dirt road through a cow pasture and into the woods. It opened up to the tobacco fields and the little cinder block house rested in a small pine thicket. Most of the kids I grew up with had never been to an outhouse before but that is exactly what my grandfather had when I was a child. There was no running water in the house either. There was however a bath tub in the kitchen. It was recessed into a wall complete with a shower curtain and all. My grandma would heat water from the well to fill the tub for our bathes. This always seemed like an adventure to me. It was kind of like camping all the time. I loved it and hated the day that grandpa put running water in the house for grandma. I felt like some of the adventure had gone out of the farm.
I also have a vague memory of the ice man. That's right-a man that actually brought huge blocks of ice to the house. There was an ice box on the back porch because that was the cool side of the house and the sun never reached the porch. He used those huge claw like ice picks to pick up the ice. I even had nightmares about him and those claws a couple of times.
Grandpa heated with a wood stove in the winter and my job was to help bring in the wood. I never got to help build the fire bit I did get to put the lighter in the heater while he loaded it with wood. I remember waking up and the house would be soooo cold. Grandpa would get up before everyone else and get the fire going. Once the fire was going grandma got up and got the coffee and breakfast started. Once all that was going and the chill had gone off the floor in the livingroom it was safe to get up and grandpa and I would get started with our day.
I loved those times and miss them dearly. Kids today just have no idea the fun and innocense of growing up on a farm. I remember all the smells like they were yesterday. I remember the feel of the cast iron tub and the warm towel that had been thrown over a chair near the wood stove so that it would be warm when I got out of the tub. I remember the heavy grandma quilts that were piled so high that you had no choice but to sleep because you couldn't move. I remember being wide open during the cool mornings and cool evenings and that we napped during the heat of the day in that cool little cinder block house in the pine thicket.
Things like this don't exist anymore and kids today would think you were neglecting them or abusing them if they had to grow up this way. But for me this was the best times of my life. So when I have a farm chore that I start out dreading I remember those times and how much simpler they are for me to do than my grandparents. It makes me miss him more each time but it also gives me a greater understanding into the man he was and how lucky I am to have had him influence my life. He never seemed to go by lists or schedules that I knew of. He just got up and knew what had to be taken care of and if a kink happened in the day he just simply dealt with it and kept on going. That's what I am trying to learn to do.
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