The way I Remember it.

My Father with His Father in "New" Milk barn

2011-01-25T15:45:00.002-05:00

My mother told me about my father being drafted into the Army after he graduated from High School in 1951. He was given an extension to allow him to help finish building the new milk barn. This picture must have been taken before he left for his time at Fort Benning, Georgia were he was a tank mechanic. My mother hadn't met my father yet. She would meet him when he came home to visit on leave. I'm told it was a hard thing for my father to leave that new barn and the new milk system in order to serve in the Army.

Story of the pond.

2010-03-31T11:16:00.002-04:00

The story of the pond is part what I was told years ago and what I remember from my childhood.
The pond was a swampy area. The water flows into this area from the brooks above that start at the base of Mount Ephraim. My father used a bulldozer to create a fire pond and recreation area. There is a fire hydrant next to the pine tree you see and the local fire department comes and makes sure that it is still in working order every year. There was only one time that it had to be used for a house fire in the neighborhood.
The pond was a gathering place in the summers for the whole neighborhood. Which when I was a very young child included most of my father's siblings families. We would spend many hours splashing in the water and catching frogs. The slide was an addition that my father added later on. Next to the slide used to be a dock. There was also a very large weeping willow tree that we would swing off of and drop into the water. There was a raft that was anchored in the middle of the pond and there were many games that we created to fill our spare time.
The pond is not used much today and cattails have started to fill-in the the inlet area. Left unchecked nature will reclaim this area some day.

Wash Rags....the things that jog your memory.

2009-10-15T12:23:00.002-04:00

This past weekend I was on my hands and knees wiping the fine dust off the wood floors we had just sanded. It was the cheap, fairly thin, cotton rags I was using that reminded me of my childhood on the farm. So I was temporary transported back in time to the milk barn.

Cows are ready to "let-down" their milk at the same time twice a day.
The first step in milking is to clean the cow's teats with a wash rag kept in a pail with warm water and bleach or iodine solution. This is to wash off any dirt and manure before attaching the milking machine. But wait, you can only wash as many cows as you have milking machines. Washing relaxes the cow and she is now ready to give her precious cargo. If you get too far ahead (which an eager youngster is apt to do) the cow's milk will start leaking onto the floor.

Milking Time

2009-06-29T16:37:00.003-04:00

I was reminded by a post Straight From The Teat at Making Love in the Kitchen that drinking raw milk is something the not everyone gets to experience. We drank raw milk from our Jersey cows and skimmed the cream off to make butter and whipped cream. We drank it skimmed in order to use all the cream. It tastes just like any good pasteurized milk. I love cold milk. I think there is nothing more refreshing. I recently read that milk has more electrolytes that sports drinks. WOW!
The picture above is of my father at the end of the day's milking. He is pour milk out of a "bucket Milker" This process of getting the milk into the bulk tank to cool was modern in it time. Shortly after this photo was taken we installed a stainless vacuum pipeline system.

Photo from Surge Web site.

Summer Days

2009-06-24T14:56:00.001-04:00

My cousins and I are getting to know my grandfather's colt.

See the pretty flowers...

2009-06-22T14:19:00.004-04:00

My parents, by brother and I would come to reside at the farm after a new home was constructed for my father's parents just down the hill. My grandmother had planted lots of roses and perennials at the farm. My mother continued to care for the gardens as my grandmother had. Her flower beds were the envy of the neighborhood, there was always something blooming.
The dress I'm wearing was made by my mother. I'm not sure when she found the time to sew. I guess when you like to do something that much you make the time. I also think it was a way to make the few dollars a farmer makes to go a little further.

Reminded of my graduation.

2009-06-03T11:11:00.003-04:00

Our daughter is graduating this year from high school on June 13th. It just doesn't seem possible.
It was just yesterday that I was a wise 18 year old, smarter than my parents and ready for everything....well actually 28 years ago, YIKES!!@@#!@$#

Graduation Day 1981

My steers were named Clyde & Derrick after grandfathers. That's me with Derrick on the day I graduated from high school. I had to wrangle him before getting dressed for the big event. They were big and gentle and could lean their way through any fence meant to keep them in. They never wandered far. After graduating I worked for a year at Idlenot Dairy in the office doing accounting. Merlin the CEO told me I needed to go to college...so I applied to NH College the next fall and we sold Clyde and Derrick to help with tuition.

My parents

2009-03-10T15:34:00.002-04:00

This is my father and the working end of an Ayrshire Cow.My mother harvesting tomatoes with the milk-house behind her.

I begged for a horse.

2009-03-06T06:05:00.001-05:00

My father had other ideas.
He loved all things motorized.
So when I was in 7th grade He bought me a dirt bike.

My parents and brother each had a bike but they were too tall for me to learn on. These were the reasons he gave me for having a motorcycle over a horse.

You only have to feed it when you ride it.
You don't have to clean out its stall.
You don't have to brush it or exercise it.
It doesn't have a mind of its own.
It's not afraid of loud noises and will go anywhere you ask it to within reason.

Well, you get the idea. I thanked him over and over for that wonderful first bike. Actually, I still have it and my daughter rides it everyday in the summer.

She was a Jersey Heifer and her name was Rue.

2009-03-05T06:05:00.003-05:00

I really wanted a horse of my own....all the neighbor girls had them...we had cows. My Grandfather was the horseman and when my father and uncle took over the farm the horse era was a memory. So I started by training Rue with a halter and leading her everywhere. Then when she got big enough she let me ride. I rode her most anywhere.
Those clothes!! The hat was my Dad's wool hunting cap that shrunk in the wash (yeah for me), flannel shirt and denim jacket were hand-me-downs from my brother; the jeans and SK's (shit-kickers) the shoes were from the neighbor boy who was a year older than I was. Oh and it looks like mud season, my favorite time of year.

Riding at a young age.

2009-03-03T16:36:00.002-05:00

That's me on Cracker.
(Firecracker maybe, I'm told she was red.)
The young gal is a summer neighbor. (up from NJ)

Christmas Morning Milking

2008-12-24T08:13:00.004-05:00

It was very dark when I woke up at 4 am to join my father in the barn that Christmas morning. I was in high school and it was our Sunday to milk the cows. The girls can't wait or take a day off. I put on my long johns and jeans, turtle neck and wool sweater made a quick stop at the fridge to grab some grub to carry me over til breakfast...3 hours til then. I put on my sorel boots, my heavy coat, the red wool hat with ear flaps and my wool mittens doubled up that Mom had knit. Off across the dooryard to the milking barn. The first thing to take care of was feeding the cows. First they all got a portion of grain and minerals measured out individually depending on their need. Then we would give them hay. The cows were all in stanchions, thirty on each side of the barn facing out looking toward the windows. To do this you made your way down each manger between cows and windows busting open the bales and fluffing it out so they could get at it easily. As I got to the further end of the barn I noticed that there were lights on down in the house. Not a usual site as Mom would normally sleep until six when she would start breakfast. So I stopped and scraped the frost away so I could get a clearer view and I could just make out the silhouette of a person moving back and forth across the living room to the lighted Christmas tree.

IT MUST HAVE BEEN SANTA?!?!

Pine needle playhouse

2008-10-13T12:00:00.000-04:00

I was reminded this weekend as I was raking my white pine tree needles of the hours we spent as kids making pine needle playhouses. It was simply raking the needles into a very crude outline of a building very much like what you see on a blueprint. We would make rooms with doors and windows and see how extravagant we could make them. I don't know that we spent any time in the finished "house" we just spent lots of time raking and thinking about our future dream house. We would also rake all the pine needles into one huge pile and make a nest. Good clean fun. No batteries required.

Farm Clothing

2008-10-02T15:36:00.003-04:00

Seeing this post on Farm Natters reminded my of what you wore to the barn.
The Evolution of Farm Clothing

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I was by all means a tom-boy growing up. I was the youngest and scrawniest of the kids in the neighborhood and received lots of hand-me-downs. I preferred the boys Levi jeans best. As a farm kid you have two sets of clothes: Barn clothes + School clothes. And if you forgot to change and got something nasty on your best clothes...no fear they were instantly transformed to barn clothes. Barn clothes were OH so much more comfy. If you were lucky nobody would notice that you had been wearing the same pants all week (I know the cows didn't). Mom would sooner or later WASH them, ugh they'd be stiff and tight from hanging on the line to dry.

You always wore jeans during haying otherwise your legs would get scratched to hell and you'd look like you had a tussle with a cat.

I was the only one on the farm that wore shorts in the barn milking in the summer. My father thought I was out of my mind. My legs would get completely covered with every disgusting thing that you could possibly find in the barn. But it was cooler and we had a great pond that we swam in after chores.

In winter it was a different story. The barn was always warm from the cows body heat. But getting to and from the barns and having the coat hang in the barn picking up all those wonderful smells that only farm families relish....you had to have a barn coat too. The hat I wore was an old red wool cap with ear flaps that I inherited from my father after my mom washed it in hot water.

Saturday Morning Breakfast with Grammy & Grampa

2008-08-08T10:04:00.005-04:00

I don't remember how old I was or how it started exactly. Elementary school I guess. Saturday mornings I would get up before six and try to get to the old barn where the young stock were before my father did. I'd start the chores; cleaning the manger and water bowls, feeding the young cows & calves grain, hoeing the manure out from under each one and putting fresh sawdust back in. Dad would come from the Big barn with buckets of warm water if we needed to feed really young calves milk replacer. Once everything was in order, the best part...I would get into the farm car with my father and my uncle and we would go down the hill to my Grandparents for Breakfast. Grammy would make tons of food. Oatmeal, Johnny cake, eggs, bacon or sausage, homemade donuts or toast, Coffee, Tea, OJ, milk, homemade butter and yes, we always had lots of Maple syrup to put on or into anything that needed sweetening. We would sit around their oval table and my father to my left, my uncle and Grampa to my right and Grammy across from me. After breakfast a quick catnap or for me some cartoon watching and then back up to the farm to do more chores.

Long days begin at 4 AM.

2008-07-26T22:52:00.002-04:00

On a dairy farm the cows get milked twice a day. Our morning milking started at 4 am. I didn't have to endure this everyday...thank goodness. But once or twice a month I would take my place in the barn at this hour. Most days it was 6 or 7 am when I got out of bed.
But those mornings that I did have to get up and was with my father in the barn were special. Of course when the alarm went off you didn't think so. But the barn was always welcoming. Warm, full of the animal smells and their noises. And you got to see and experience things that you would miss otherwise. Those sunrises over Pudding Hill, and the pink sunlight would come streaming through the windows of the open doors in summer. The songs that the birds start their day with is amazing.

Growing up on the Farm

2008-07-18T14:51:00.001-04:00

Living in a farm community.
Living in a neighborhood where you KNOW all the folks.
We made our own fun.
There were some chores that were not fun.
Long days.
Open spaces and acres of woods.
Natural wonders.
Fresh food.

I plan to use this list as a starting point to describe what I remember about my time on the farm. Sharon started me to thinking about it. So, I'll see what I can come up with.