My Father with His Father in "New" Milk barn

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.

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.

Milking Time

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.

My parents

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.

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.

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?!?!

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.