Friday, July 5, 2013

No I did NOT milk cows

Let's settle some misconceptions about being raised on a farm and being a farm girl.  Let's see there is the one that the farm girl is easy if you know what I mean.  Farm girls are not educated and do not graduate from school.  We know proper English grammar.  Settle in for tid bits of farm life.

First off I was born in 1956 so when I was being raised on a farm we didn't have many amenities that we have today.  Our TV was a blonde black and white model.  We got three channels and only watched TV in the evening.  During the day the children were to be playing and active not sitting in front of the TV.

When summer came so did the work to be done.  We planted a huge garden.  The next is debatable depending on who you talk to, me or Mom.  I say I had to weed and work in the garden.  She says I did not do so.  I distinctly remember picking strawberries and eating more than I picked.  mmmm so good.  The hard part came when it was harvest time and all the vegetables were canned or blanched for the freezer.

When I was really young and was potty trained we had an outhouse and no running water in the kitchen.  I was always afraid I would fall in the hole.  During the night we had chamber pot.  I cannot imagine doing this now.  I had to walk through the chickens, which scare me to death.  One day coming back from the outhouse I was attacked by a rooster.  Mom said we had him for dinner that night.  When we moved to a house with a bathroom I kept flushing the toilet because it was amazing. 

The outhouse.  We didn't have a quarter moon on ours that I remember.

The Chamber pot and a pan to wash up with.

In the kitchen the sink had a pump to get the water from the well into the house.  Of course it was cold so if you wanted hot water you had to heat on the stove first.

This is a pretty one I am sure ours didn't look this nice.

Dad farmed until he was 72 years of age.  Farming was in his blood and I come from a long line of farmers.  He had corn, soy beans, wheat, cows, pigs and lots of chores.

A corn field which I know monsters lurked in between the rows; I was simply a big baby.

A wheat field.  I just love the color of wheat.

A soybean field.

The livestock had to be tended to no matter what.  Everyday corn was ground for the cows and the pigs fed.  Again big baby here.  Terrified of cows, then.  Loved pigs.

Now as for being a farm girl I played outside mostly.  I did have a play room in the summer kitchen.  That is where all of my dress up clothes, jewelry, toy kitchen, stove, etc was set up.  I spent hours in there.

Something that drives me crazy is that people that don't know better and soon you will know.  Aren't you just happy as can be?  The difference between hay and straw.  Straw is ALWAYS called hay.  They must think we are stupid or something.  There are big differences between the two.  Straw comes from the wheat stalks after the wheat is harvested.  Hay comes from a hay field filled with weeds, grass, thistle and such.  Here are some pics that will show you the difference.

The above is a bale of hay.  It is slightly green from the grass, etc.  Nobody likes to sit on a bale of hay.  A thistle or two will get you in the butt.

The above is straw.  Golden like the wheat it came from.  Sitting on a bale of straw is okay.

I have dogs and cats galore.  Cats would come from everywhere and consider themselves at home with plenty of mice to keep them fed and busy.  This to me was normal.  All kids have a dog or a cat, right?

So many things I wished I had learned like how to make butter or a recipe for home made ice cream, or to bake bread from scratch.  I know I can learn now but why?  The store sells bread.  Seriously I do know how to make bread but not homemade ice cream like Mom did.

I would watch Mom churn butter is a churn like this one.  

Many hot, sultry nights were spent on our porch and having the neighbors in and make homemade ice cream.  As a child we got to turn it at the beginning then the men took over because it became to hard for us to do.  I thought that was fun.

Most of all I miss all the sights of being on a farm.  Barns, silos, barbed wire fences, sunsets, and sun rise out in the open there was nothing like it.  So very beautiful and it went on for miles, just as did the stars at night.  I would lay on a blanket and try to count the stars, find the little and big dipper, watch for falling stars and enjoy them glistening in the sky.  To me, even now I think the moon looks like it has a man's face on it.  Do you think so?  Now we know what the moon looks like close up.  If at night you take a peek at the evening sky, you'll see there is a man on the moon.

Last but not least.  I did not milk cows.  I can remember maybe doing it once in my life.  Cows scared me too much to milk them.  Ol'Bessie would kick too and I didn't want to get kicked.  I wish I had a dollar for every time someone had assumed that I had milked a cow or knew how.  Quite the contrary.  I have no idea how to do so.

I moved to a small town in 1992 and have been in town since.  It was hard to get used to the noise, lights, horns honking, having neighbors that knew all your business and they would watch you.  What's up with that?  Mom is too cute.  She moved to town with us in 2011 after Daddy died.  She didn't want to live in the country by herself.  She knows more about my neighbors than I do.  She knows all of their names, etc  I have not a clue.

I grew up different but only with experiences only being raised on the farm.  I have a college education, I used to know proper English grammar and would now if I made myself think.  I was raised differently than most people I know.  One thing I have in common with many.  I love life, I love blogging and all that goes with it.  Together we are eclectic and blend together like a fine tapestry.

I just don't milk cows.

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