Living in the country

I don't live in the country these days.  I live in Tiny Town on a dead end street.  We're the only house on that street.  Out behind us is nothing but pasture. So, even though we live in town--it is kind of like living in the country, too. 

Besides having to back down the hill, this was a great place to raise kids.  (And they both learned to back really well!) The girls could play in the yard and out back with no worry of traffic.  They raised bucket calves in a small pen in the pasture.  (The pasture owner is a very nice man!) 

This morning while I was looking out the kitchen window, I saw three deer jump over the back fence into our yard.  I moved to another window to see where they were headed.  I finally stepped out on our front porch and took a few pictures of them.  They didn't bat an eye.  Yep!  Still kind of like living in the country.

After lunch, I made a trip to the farm which really is out in the country and about twelve miles from the nearest town. Yesterday was Dad's birthday, so I ran out for the afternoon.  The Mr. had to work, so he missed the trip out to see the beaver dam. They've built a nice little dam on the creek.  I'd like to see them in action sometime.

We drove down to my grandparents old farmstead, through the creek and pastures.  It reminded me how nice it was to ride bikes or run on those roads when I was a kid. I think if I lived on any other street, I'd be really homesick for the farm.  The deer, wild turkeys, and even the red foxes in our front yard on Easy Street make me feel right at home.

Tonight, I took Baxter for a walk in Tiny Town.  It was eerie:  misty and dark on the streets.  We walked in the middle of the street because no one else was out.  Our walk might have been on a country road. 

And when we got home, Baxter looked like he had been walking on dirt roads.  He was filthy.  Chasing leaves is dirty work.  He had to have a bath to remove some of the "country" he brought home with him.

Now if I could only talk the Mr. into wood heat, it really would be like home.  There's almost nothing better than curling up by a wood burning stove on a cold day.  That's one part of the country that I still miss on Easy Street.

Whew!!

The last few days have been a bit hectic on Easy Street.  Fun, but hectic.

K and CT invited us to Father's Day grilling on Saturday night.  CT's folks were here for the weekend, so the Mr., L, and I joined them for CT's cooking on the grill.  It was delicious: steak and corn on the cob.

The Mr. had to work on Sunday which was kind of a bummer.  LBB (Little Big Brother) and his wife hosted a Father's Day dinner.  L and I joined them, their three kids, and Dad and B for a wonderful meal.  Niece LC's homemade hummus was delicious!  Now, I feel the need to give it a try.

Before we went to dinner, L and I ran by the farm and were shocked to see all the damage Dad had from straight line winds.  The trees really took a hit. There is a lot of clean up to do.  Thankfully, the twenty-something nephews are visiting and are doing a lot of the work.  They are good buddies who don't get to see each other often these days, so they are bonding over chainsaws, hauling limbs, and repairing fences.  Bless their hearts!

For the next two days I am attending a State Conference on the Common Core Standards.  Over the weekend, I had to fill out a survey of what I teach.  It took two hours on computer.  I am almost dreading the conference now.  All I can see is how much curriculum overhaul we are going to have to do in the next few years.  It makes me tired thinking about it. *sigh*

On top of that, I am trying to figure out a fall production for Tiny Town High.  It seems like every spare minute is spent researching, reading, and trying to determine what direction to head.  The scary thing?  I still don't have a clue.  I imagine the boy principal and I need to sit down for a good long visit soon.

L is at conferences at her new school this week which should give her a chance to get a lot of questions answered.  K is working on her little lady bug's nursery.  (Red, pink, and brown for K--little birds, owls, and other animals for CT.)  I'm helping L with packing for her move and K with nursery/baby things. They have to do a lot on their own, but I pitch in here and there.

There is so much going on that I don't know what to write about first, so I don't.  Forgive my absence.  I'm a bit overwhelmed--and I've found that it helps if I think before I blog.  (I know.  Sometimes it is hard to believe that any thinking is going on here!)  

Tomorrow is the first day of summer.  And I was just thinking how fast the summer seems to be going.  Perhaps I ought to slow down and enjoy.  If I'm not careful, the summer is going to escape as quickly as the spring did. 

Savor the summer.  Savor the summer.  Savor the summer. And that's an order!

More Memorial Weekend

There were lots of dogs and people present at our annual weekend of cousins camping.  Ruby and Toby were two who stood still long enough for a photo op.  I didn't take many pictures this year, but I'll share a few of the ones I did take.

I have 38 first cousins. (!!)   Obviously, they don't all make it for the weekend of fun.  Those who do-- have lots of time for catching up.

And coffee...

The little kids spend a lot of time at the creek.  This year they caught a bunch of tadpoles and found quite a few shells.  When I took this picture, they had a frog in that pail.  They were floating a banana peel for a lily pad for the little frog, who I hope escaped before the end of camping. (Such creative little problem solvers.)

I always find time to make it to the little country cemetery where Mom is buried.  It is just a few miles away from the farm.  Nothing much changes there, but it is a peaceful place where one set of my great grandparents are buried, too. 

And this is seven of the nine who started the whole brood that gathers this one weekend each year. They put up with our nonsense, and sometimes they even enjoy us.  (Or at least we like to think that they do!)

We always enjoy them.  Let's see, we have the family historian, the ice cream maker, the one who grabs the Pam instead of the Off, the one who has had her grave decorated more than once (she's still alive), the uncle who takes care of the port-a-pot for me (boy, do I owe him!), and one who provided the grill.  We still need them:  they take care of us, document our history, and provide us with laughs and great memories. 

We're lucky if we have family who loves us-- even luckier if we love our family, too!

Family Camping At The Farm

The next generation of campers

has begun putting in an annual appearance

with more laughter and adventure than tears. 

Here's to hoping the circle goes unbroken.

Last Day

Blogger is driving me crazy.  I am having trouble accessing my dashboard; hence, it is almost impossible to post. 

When I can finally get on my dashboard, everything looks a bit strange: bold font and semi broken looking bullets.

I don't really need this right now.  I'm finishing up at school.  Today is the last day. 

The family Woodstock Weekend begins on Friday.  I'm trying to organize the house before I leave, so I can enjoy the weekend--guilt free. 

My kid sister and all of her family will be joining us this year.  Little sis + brother-in-law + 4 daughters + 2 husbands +1 granddaughter = the California crew.  I can't wait to see them! 

In fact, I think all of my siblings will be here.  That doesn't happen very often these days.  Add in all the CraZy relatives who will be camping at my grandparent's farm this weekend and let the fun begin!

I am more than ready for today to be over, more than ready for a long weekend, and more than ready for summer. 

Seeing all of the tornado damage in other places, a friend retiring, and the husband going back to work full time before he was supposed to have all added to the end of the year "fun."  I am more than ready for the down time.

Bring on the weekend:

*Camping in the Barbie Dream House   *Bug spray   *Tending fire   *Watching for full moons   *The creek    *Country roads   *Grandma's peonies and irises   *Hot dog roasts   *S'mores   *Outdoor breakfast chefs   *Adorable little kids   *Tents and campers   *Muddy kids and dogs   *Wading   *Enjoying the family

Bring on Summer:

*Summer beers   *T-ball and coach pitch games   *Lawn Chairs    *Swimming   *Good books   *Sleeping in   *Walks at the track   *Shorts   *Lazy afternoons   *Day trips   *Flip flops   *Sprinklers   *Garden fresh tomatoes  *Fireflies   *Pots of geraniums  *Eating outside   *Bike rides   *Star gazing  

Sounds good to me!  One.  More.  Day.

Eucharisteo List

One of my favorite bloggers has started a new weekly project:  to list ten things she is thankful for each week until she hits 1,000.  You should visit her blog if you love vintage photos and loveliness.  I have decided to join Ragamuffin Girl.  What a pleasant way to end a week. 

So here are 10 things I'm particularly thankful for this week.

*  The way 16 year old boys rally around a friend who is facing a scary health crisis.  They aren't ashamed to show they are worried about him and that they care.  I sometimes forget with all the horsing around they do, that they really do love each other--even if they have strange ways of showing it sometimes.

*You see those eyes?  Mr. B loves to jump up on my lap, lay his head on my chest, and look me in the eye.  That is the best part of my day:  snuggle time with Baxter.  There is something so relaxing about petting a dog.

*Bright blue skies.  "Blue skies, nothing but blue skies..." 

*Trees budding and green leaves finally making their appearance.

*I know his music is old, but there is something about Jimmy Durante's singing that I love.  "Make Someone Happy,"  "Young at Heart," and "I'll Be Seeing You" are particular favorites.  His voice isn't terrific, but his songs just touch a chord in me.  This album, "As Time Goes By" is a particular favorite.

*Flip flops.  They are cheap, cute, and they just scream "summer."  They also make my toes happy!

*Social networking sites have their share of problems, but I still love facebook.  (I hate the game announcements and the horoscope postings, but the good still outweighs the bad.)

*The smell of smoke in the air from pasture burning is a rite of spring in this area.  The burning is coming to an end, and green pastures are sure to follow after the rains of the last few days.  I'm pretty fond of the guy (Dad) on the four-wheeler, too.

*Peanut butter on toast for breakfast.  I hated breakfast as a kid, but it has become my favorite meal of the day.

*I love walking in the door of my classroom.  It is still a thrill every single morning.  I hope it never gets old.

And what are you thankful for this week?

Pasture Burning

Some things you can just count on every spring.  Burning pastures is pretty much a spring ritual in the Midwest. 

Last night the Mr. and I headed to the farm to help Dad and LBB (Little Big Brother) burn pasture. 

The best time to burn is always around sunset.  Combine the glow of the burning fires with the glow of our sunsets and the whole scene is actually quite beautiful.  Since we had some large brush piles, some of the fires were large and quite hot.  Four wheelers with sprayers on the back control the burn.  Dad even talked me into learning to ride the four wheeler.  (He might have created a monster!)

Yes, pasture burning is a rite of spring--and a beautiful one at that.  After the next rain, our rolling pasture land will turn green and lush.  And that is another gorgeous sight!  Welcome, April!

Christmas at the Farm

I forced the family to take family pictures.  We haven't done that for 5 or 6 years.  We were overdue.

Look what happens when you wait that long. Three pictured (the great grands) hadn't been born the last time we did this. 

I'm so glad I nag.  It is always fun to look back and see how much everyone has changed.  Time flies.

Friday Favorites Again

The best parts of this week:

1.  I have another running partner.  Since moving to town, K is joining L and me for the morning run.  Want to go for a walk?  Someone around here is always ready to go.  Need a run?  Plenty of partners.  I could get used to this!

2.  Spirit week.  Yesterday was Decade Day.  I borrowed K's Jackie Kennedy suit and heels--another perk of having her live so close.  Of course, most of the kids had no idea of what a Jackie Kennedy outfit looked like.  I finally started telling them that I was a teacher from the 1960s.  It was easier. 

3.  "Survivor," "Grey's Anatomy," and "Private Practice."  Some of my favorite shows started up again!  Thank goodness for DVR.  I may have time to watch them one of these days.

4.  My students wrote their "I Believe" papers this week.  These papers always renew my faith in teenagers.  I wrote about this writing assignment and showed my own paper here last year.  It is the one time every year that my students don't complain about writing. 

5.  A colleague is doing alterations on my dress for the wedding.  I bought it earlier in the summer.  That was 15 pounds ago.  The dress is simple, so the alterations aren't tough.  I'm just glad that I didn't have to do them myself.  Some things are just worth the money! 

This weekend is the celebration of the 150th anniversary of my ancestors settling on a creek bank in the Midwest.  The family farm is in the same county that those relatives chose 150 years ago.  I think the family understands these lines in Gone With the Wind--  "Why, land's the only thing in the world worth working for, worth fighting for, worth dying for, because it's the only thing that lasts." 

I knew there was a reason I loved that book!

I Really Want One

Sunday evening, we made a trip with K and CT to a deer stand CT has set up.  On the property of his friend is this little hunting cabin.  I love it!  Even though I only saw it from the outside, I'm sure it is just two rooms with a bathroom.  Under the front porch they have a little storage room for their lawn chairs and grill. They use it on weekends.

It's not going to happen any time soon, but this is going on my wish list.  And I know the perfect spot for it!

Weekend Camping Review

The annual family camp out is over.  We were a smaller gathering this year: 70 joined us for part or all of the weekend.  (We've had just over 100 before.)  The weather was wonderful: sunshine, breeze, and a full moon. It didn't start raining until we were pulling out on Sunday afternoon.  And oh, the stories...!

An aunt and uncle camp with us every year and are quite tolerant of all the nieces, nephews, children and dogs.  In fact, I think they are pretty crazy about us.  Either that or just crazy!

Their oldest son is usually our resident chef, but he couldn't make it this year.  (We kept in touch with him and another crazy cousin who lives in Virginia by texting.  Ah, technology!! Almost as good as being there!)  Uncle stood in for him.  Well, at least he got charmed into cooking breakfast for a curly haired, blue eyed blonde who filled her plate with scrambled eggs but noshed on pop tarts. She got a little grief for that, but when you're four--sarcasm is lost on you!

The "girls" table. These two were adorable and hard to say "no" to:  hence, the pop tarts.

Auntie C. is our entertainment every year.  This year, I borrowed a can of "Off" from her.  She thought I returned it and grabbed the spray can from her counter.  She sprayed her legs and was surprised to see it foaming up.  She decided it was a new formula and started rubbing it in.  Then she discovered that my uncle had set the can of Pam cooking spray on the counter and she was 'pamming' her legs.  Oh, the laughs we got from that story.  Auntie had soft, glistening legs the rest of the weekend!  That's the cooking spray queen on the left.

We had kids and pets.  (Five dogs, including Baxter, camped or joined us at some point!)

We had kids trying to find new pets.  Fish, frogs, and crawdads were captured. 

Two boys who had just finished kindergarten (both missing front teeth) took a net to the creek and captured a frog.  The net and frog came back into camp when a discussion ensued as to who was the rightful owner of the frog.  It was Alec's net, but Sam was sure it was his.  The Mr. finally arbitrated and said that whoever would take the frog out of the net was the rightful owner. 

Sam couldn't bring himself to touch it, so Alec took the frog and put it in a bucket.  There were tears.  Sam wasn't happy.  He swore it was the only frog in the creek.  There were no more to catch.  (Yeah, right!)

Alec guarded the frog and any time he backed away, Sam tried to move in to claim ownership.  Finally, Alec's family was leaving and while he was giving good-bye hugs, Sam swiped the frog back.  This time Alec cried.  He left crying.  He couldn't have been a mile down the road when we discovered that the frog they were fighting over was dead!  And it probably had been for some time.

And that wasn't the only Alec and Sam fun.  Earlier in the weekend Alec's glasses made a quick trip to the bottom of the creek, got stepped on during the search, and had to be bent back into shape by his Grandpa.  Then Sam lost his sandal in the creek mud.  His dad hunted and hunted, but gave up the sandal as gone for good.  There's only so much mud a Dad is willing to dig through! 

For meals there was a hot dog roast with s'mores, a fish fry courtesy of the fiance, and grilling for the Sunday potluck.  Breakfasts were eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and french toast.  Oh, and I can't forget the pop tarts and powdered donuts!  All meals are unorganized.  Families contribute and it gets thrown together for whoever shows up for the meal.  That sure takes a lot of the work out of planning. 

Of course, there is the aunt that shows up on Sunday every year with her five gallons of homemade ice cream.  It may get to be too much some year, but boy is it yummy while it is lasting!  She is one of the most popular relatives on Sunday.  All the kids know who "Ice Cream Auntie" is!  (Not to be confused with "Pam Cooking Spray Auntie!")

Here she is dishing up the ice cream.  That wooden box on the ground behind her is insulated and her method of transporting the ice cream.  I should mention that she and my late uncle started this tradition of feeding the crowd ice cream many years ago.  Many of us figured when my uncle died, that would be the end of the tradition.  I think of how much Uncle John enjoyed treating the family, and I'm pretty sure that my aunt continues this tradition in his honor.  Bless her heart.

All ages camp.  This is my cousin with another cousin's baby.  HH, at six months, was the youngest camper of the weekend.  One thing about being a parent on this weekend is that there is always someone to entertain or look out for your kids.

One of my favorite moments was watching four little girls play a game.  I'm not sure what it was, but they sat in a circle on the ground and one at a time would get up and wiggle, shake, or dance a bit, then quickly sit back down.  There was a three year old, a four year old, a six year old, and a college freshman playing.  I think we might all be the same age at heart!

A six year old with a skinned up nose was making song requests.  (I asked her about the nose and all I got was, "Concrete!"  Enough said!)  We changed several of her glow in the dark bracelets into a halo for her.  When she came back, her dad had changed the "halo" into "devil horns."  I think he might know her better than I do! 

Two teenage cousins, who only know each other from the once-a-year camp out and Facebook, tried to spend the night sleeping together in a hammock.  I don't think either girl got any sleep, but I'm sure they had fun trying.

We met some new additions to the family:  a new husband, a new baby, a fiance, and a boyfriend we had been hearing about for several years.  We had family show up for the first time ever.  We're hoping they'll be back next year.  They are good sports and fun company.  (It didn't hurt that there is a Bed and Breakfast just a mile or so away for the non-camping cousins.) 

A lot of new relationships are made.  Some of the hunters were planning a hunting weekend for next fall.  We get to know spouses that we've only met once or twice.  And there were goodnight hugs and good-bye kisses from those little ones, too.  They didn't know us at all before the weekend started, but were seeking us out by the end of it.  It doesn't get much better than that:  the sweetest hugs and kisses ever!

And in among the tents and campers and the cars parked haphazardly, Grandma's old fashioned roses bloom.  She's there in spirit and welcoming us with open arms.  How happy it must make her to see her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren spending time together and keeping our circle unbroken.  There can't be a better way to create the ties that bind.  And long after many of us are gone, the younger ones will be remembering us and these happy, funny times.

I've said it before.  I'll say it again.  I love this large, noisy gathering of young and old.  I love this family.  The legacy of love lives on. We're lucky.

Our Family's Version of Woodstock- Memorial Weekend

My dad was the oldest of nine children.  Those nine children gave my grandparents 38 grandchildren.  That means I am one of 38 (count 'em, folks!) first cousins.  (In fact, I am one of five cousins born during a four month period in a single year. I think someone 'lovingly' referred to as "the herd.") 

There was always someone to play with at family reunions. We always had enough for teams.  As we've gotten older, married, and had our own families it has been harder to keep track of each other. 

Several years ago we started gathering at my grandparent's farm for a weekend of camping.  Our children get to enjoy the farm and creek just as we did as children.  The house and the old barn are gone, but Grandma's flowers grow without tending and the "coffee bean tree" still drops the goods for kids to play with.  The kids catch crawdads and frogs.  They swing on a rope swing and drop into a swimming hole. There is a campfire, hot dog roast, and community camper breakfasts.  Little ones get tucked into tents by flashlight. 

The best part of the weekend?  Spending a couple of days with my extended family.  At a typical family reunion, with a meal and a couple of hours- there just isn't much time to talk.  During a weekend visit, we get reacquainted and create all kinds of new memories:  we've had the year of the fire (the house burned), the year of the flood (the creek rose), and the year of the rat.  Don't ask!  (Actually, one cousin had a rat go home with her and it ate the wiring in their vehicle.  Ugh!)  One cousin led a hiking group on a wild goose chase to find the springs.  Lewis and/or Clark, he wasn't. 

On Sunday, the non campers arrive for a potluck dinner.  You can tell who camped and who didn't.  The ones who look good and smell good haven't spent their weekend in tents and campers.  A favorite aunt brings a huge freezer of homemade ice cream.  (You can see why she is a favorite aunt!)  I'm not sure how many gallons her freezer makes, but it feeds the large crowd that gathers. 

This happens to be one of my favorite weekends of the year.  I love my cousins.  They are crazy and fun.  (Only a crazy cousin would decorate the grave of an aunt and uncle who are still alive!) I love getting to know the cousin's kids and spouses.  I love when the aunts and uncles join us, tolerate our teasing, and tell us their stories of growing up on the farm.  Mainly, I love remembering my childhood and my grandparents. 
 
A sky full of stars is just an added perk!

That time of year

In our county you can't drive a mile on a country road without seeing combines cutting wheat. The hot temperatures have been helpful to the farmers, though the rest of us haven't been that thrilled.
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As a kid, I can remember helping Mom haul meals out to the fields. (The weather can change so quickly this time of year that once the wheat is ready to be cut, the farmers can't take the chance of stopping for lunch at the house.) I baked a lot of chocolate pound cake and pans of bar cookies for desserts. We'd make sandwiches and haul gallon jugs of iced tea or lemonade. After loading it all in the car, we'd drive into the field and try to find a shady spot so Dad could get out of the sun for a little bit. Sometimes we'd have to wait until the combine was full. (They would want to combine stopping for lunch with emptying the combine's bin into the truck.) I always took a library book so I'd have something to do while waiting.
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Hauling meals to the fields is hot and a lot of work. I'm glad I don't have to do it anymore. But, there are a lot of farm wives doing just that this week. I guess farming has always been a family effort.

The one thing I hated to do was haul wheat to the elevator. The lines were long. The farmers were in such a hurry to get the trucks back to the field for the next load. Everyone was impatient. Our trucks were scary to unload. We drove onto something that would raise the front of the truck into the air and dump the wheat. (We didn't have a dump truck in those days.) I was so afraid, that I didn't like to ride with Mom or Dad when they took a load. I know Mom hated driving the trucks, and it wasn't until I was old enough to drive myself that I understood why. If I was afraid of riding with someone else, I was petrified driving myself. Wheat trucks are heavy and harder to control. Braking becomes a challenge. The wheat can shift a bit, too. And once you got to the elevator, there was the challenge of driving up on that lift so they could dump your load. There was only one elevator where I liked to unload because they had a guy who would drive the truck onto the lift for me. (It pays to be a 16 year old female in a "male world" sometimes!)

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My favorite harvest story is when Mom drove a load of wheat to the elevator. She had three kids in the cab, and the truck had a flat tire in the elevator. She said she had never seen men change a tire so fast. Help was coming out of the woodwork. No one else could dump their load until she could drive the truck out. Either that, or they took pity on the frazzled farm wife with three whining kids!

When the countryside is a canvas...

"Woodstock" 09- Or a Cheap Imitation

"Someone was happy there once." Grandma used to say that every time we drove past an abandoned farmstead. And now this is the lane into her abandoned farmstead. Someone was happy there once and once a year we gather for a happy "Woodstock" weekend with family, children, and pets, remembering the grandparents who loved us and the happy times from our childhood. My grandparents lived on a farm just a mile or so down the road from the farm where I grew up. They raised nine children on that farm and lived to see 38 grandchildren and more 'greats' than I want to try to remember or name. After my grandparents died, my dad bought their farm and for about 13 years now, all the cousins have celebrated Memorial Weekend with a camp out at the old home place. Campers and tents dot the property, and we gather around a campfire for communal hot dog roasts. The creek was a big drawing card for us when we were kids, and the next generation seems to enjoy it, as they spend most of their time fishing or catching frogs and tadpoles. One year they even made a rope swing which kept the swimmers at the creek for hours. There are a few pyromaniacs (seems to be a genetic thing) who spend most of their time tending the camp fire. On Sunday, a lot of the non-campers arrive for a potluck dinner at noon. The camp out chefs (they do breakfasts, too!) have supplied us with ribs, chicken, hamburgers or brats for a main course, all grilled on a huge smoker/grill provided by a local company my uncle works for and secures for us. One of the aunts has a huge ice cream freezer on wheels that she pulls behind her car. So our weekend usually ends with homemade ice cream!

I have often wished that we had done this before my grandmother died. How she would have loved having all of her family gathered at the old home place! Beer drinking aside, she would have been thrilled to see the next generation enjoying the family farm. I can imagine my grandfather might have been more concerned with how we were "tearing up the darn place," but I'm sure that in spite of his grumbling he would be proud to know that their farm is still such an important place to all of us.

As for music at this Woodstock, once in awhile a cousin drags out a guitar. But for the most part, all you hear are frogs and crickets and lots of laughter and conversation late into the night.

The Farmer in the Dell

The Mr. and I went with Dad to feed the cows this weekend. They heard his truck and came running for hay.

Cows are interesting creatures. They usually are a pretty good predictor of bad weather: gathering in one area of the pasture, huddled together, rears to the wind. They can find the most inopportune times to "get out." Any country kid can tell you that the cows getting out stresses everyone. (Fences are an important part of farm life. Seems like Dad has spent a lifetime working on fences.) Cows are somewhat human in their behavior. There is a herd or mob mentality. There are good cows and bad cows; ones that follow the rules and some that always want to do something a little different. Some take to "mothering" and a few don't, just like people. Cows don't like to be separated from their babies, which I totally understand. A few cows seem to run every herd. There is a "follow the leader" mentality that reminds me of my students. Cows like to be familiar with their surroundings, so you will see cows walk the fence lines to check things out. (Or are they figuring out a way to get out??)

I always liked feeding the cows with Dad. It usually involved a rough truck ride through ravines. Even this past Friday, Dad's driving on muddy trails was a bit like those roller coaster thrill rides. A thrill--yes, but I'm always relieved when we get where we're going! I can remember a winter of big snows when I was a kid. Dad hooked the sled and toboggan behind the truck so that every time he went to feed cows, my sister and I got a wild sled ride. (I seem to remember her tobogganing over the top of the sled I was riding.) And in the spring, it was fun to see the baby calves that had arrived in late winter.

Cows make pretty good company. Sometimes I think Dad prefers them to humans. (They don't talk back, and you can use a cattle prod on them without the SRS calling!! Who am I kidding? Sometimes I prefer them to humans! They frown on cattle prods in the classroom.) Yes, Dad might have been a cowboy if he had been born in a different era.

Swimming Hole- The Long Pond

As a country kid, we didn't make it into town to swim at the local pool very often. However, the farm had a great creek running through it. One section of it we called the long pond because it was deeper, wider, and slower, and this was our swimming hole. Spring water feeding into it assured that the water was always cold on hot summer days and frigid on the first days of summer. Mom made sure that we all took swimming lessons in town, so she didn't have to worry so much when we took off for the creek. If we heard the car horn honk while we were down there, we knew we better be making tracks for the house. That was her signal that our presence was needed, and her way to make sure that we were all ok.

My little sister and I spent a lot of time on the shallow end, while my brothers spent more time in deeper water. The only drawback to swimming at the long pond were the leeches. Frequently we would wash our legs at the hydrant when we got home, only to discover "mud" that would not wash off. Yep, leeches. We became experts at pulling them off. You'd think that would discourage us from swimming there, but no chance! Swimming at the long pond was a great way to spend a summer afternoon. This is still one of my favorite places.

My husband remembers night fishing there with my brother. After a short time he heard a splash and then saw my brother come swimming by. I guess the fish weren't biting. It is a little chilly to swim right now, but I'm thinking we might have to plan a fishing trip there soon! And if the fish don't bite, well--swimming might be an option.

Monday Memories and Stepping Back

Back to the Farm

This time of year always makes me nostalgic for the farm and my childhood. The weather reminds me of newborn animals, lilac bushes, and even field trips at school. Mom always made sure I had a new spring windbreaker or sweater to wear to the bus every morning. In spring, I miss the farm. (Who am I kidding? I miss the farm at the beginning of every season. You appreciate the seasons more in the country.)

This window above the kitchen sink was mom's window to the world. She loved watching cardinals while washing the dishes. Now my step mom keeps her colored glass bottle collection on the window ledge, casting a lovely light on her dish washing.

Clothes on the line definitely mean I am home.

The owner of the overalls.

The girls and the farmer--the real reason for the visit.

Dad spends the morning visiting with his granddaughters.

There are probably things he should be doing-

but coffee and conversation take priority on this morning.