FARM KIDS MAKING THEIR OWN FUN.
We ended up with a huge truck load of clothes from the rummage sale that didn't sell.
Lots of fun dress-up clothes that were functional too.

Story of the pond.

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.

Summer Days

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

See the pretty flowers...

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.

She was a Jersey Heifer and her name was Rue.

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.

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

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

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

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.

Growing up on the Farm

• 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.