Movers on a farm

                                                                        MOO-VERS 

On a farm, cows are not pets in any way shape or form. Oh sure, when they are calves, they are sweet, fun to stroke. But just you wait, things change.

This poem is from "On the Bright Side" Bright side, good thoughts.

All I ever needed to know I learned from a cow.

If it’s good, milk it for all its worth

Successful people are moo-vers and shakers

Don’t just be one of the herd.

The cream always rises to the top

Don’t stoop to a barnyard mentality

Don’t be bossy

It’s better to have milked and churned than to have never milked at all.

If you need to get somewhere, hoof it.

Some days can e udder frustration

If you’re feeling low, moo yourself a little song

Chew your food 50 times before swallowing.

Don’t let others corral you.

Munch hay while the sun shines.

He who lives with the herd learns to watch his step

Following your heart will always steer you in the right direction.

Party till the cows come home!

Live for-heifer young

Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere is moo moo

Author Unknown

Jackson Laux: tractor wizard; farmers of all ages love to meet him and talk tractors. 
 

 There are so many tractor and jazz videos. Who knew? Cows love jazz.

 Being a farm girl gives me a different perspective than most  bloggers.While other teenage farm girls had activities outside the farm work.  I think they had color TVs and A/C. 

Endless boredom

  

says enough 

 

 

Stretched out on the bed, Gwen wondered if life could get much more boring than this.  

Anything…almost anything…would be better than this.

Every last vegetable in the garden that could be canned had been canned. In fact, the garden was a pile of pulled weeds. Yard was mowed.  Siding washed down.  Fence wire repaired.

The hogs were wearing down in the heat.  Which is why she was at home: to spray water over the hogs to cool them down.  

The slightest sound brought Gwen almost to the point of throwing furniture down the stairs or ripping down the laundry line.  

Is this what it feels to be insane, to lose my mind?

The parents were at a church committee meeting.  The older brothers had taken the truck to somewhere.  

That point seemed rather vague.

Lightning had blown out the transformer yesterday, taking all the electricity with it.  No TV.   No one to phone.  No radio.   Nothing.

What do you think a bored teen (boy or girl) would do in this situation??  What would you do?

 

Under a Yellow Sky

Dan watched a mustard yellow sky and listened as sounds of birds silenced.  Rain had been pelting grain fields hard the past few hours with wind sweeping across the farm.

He had always been known for his honesty and degree of readiness in storms like this.  The last time the sky was yellow and the air heavy, Dan recalled how specific he had been about getting the family to safety, telling them what to do when the tornado touched down. 

Back then the funnel had lifted his heaviest truck and ripped the bottom carriage right off, flinging it to the neighboring farm.  Tornadoes flagrantly pass through, shredding a life’s work in a matter of seconds.

Dan watched for Jenny and the kids, praying for them to be safe.  As he headed to the shelter, his old Toyota tore into the drive.  “Now!  Get in now!” He ran to the shelter behind his family.

Dan wrapped his arms around Jenny and his children in the shelter as the roaring monster touched down.  “Safe. Safe…” They all prayed.

The underlined are Wed. Words are from May 2022. 

This is tornado season throughout the Midwest. I grew up in there, never experienced a tornado there.  Our farm was surrounded by cliffs and cornfield.  But other places on the plains were swept by strong winds.

One day when my folks were out, the air  turned yellow, and there was a silence like never heard on a farm. We were scared, being young ( I was 11), and didn't know what to do.  Nothing happened.  We talked about where we could go.   No basement, no shelters? 

I decided that heading down to a small muddy creek that ran deep through a trench leading to the Bay Creek..  That would be safe, despite other dithering siblings' opinions that we should go to the barn. The barn was built 100 years ago, not all that steady. 

People in those zones are brave and resilient.  God bless them and keep them safe.

Grandee Alice

Wow

 

When Grandee Alice died, her grandchildren were devastated by her loss.

Annie and Jack had walked the countryside with Grandee, where she led them along the landscape. Annie held Grandee’s hand, feeling her fingers brush along the sage bushes that littered the fields. Jack gasped after seeing a rainbow.

The sun was into the dusky night. They headed back to Grandee’s farmhouse where she brought slices of watermelon to the porch, juice soon running down faces. Grandee looked off to the farm. Resilience was part of her life, what she left behind was in Annie and Jack’s hands. 

 

Gazing at them, she drank in the art of God’s creations.

 

These underlined words are Wed. Words from June 28. The complete list of words and other comments in Elephant's Child . Please head over there to see what other bloggers have written with this collection of unrelated words! 

Mom, how we miss you.

                            

         Mom in a dress Grandma made for  her, High School Dance

 We had always viewed our mother as superwoman. She could do anything. It was only in the last 10 years of her life that we knew the it was time for her to hang up her cape. There is such an emptiness that holds onto you.

                                                     Mom, in high school                       

                                         Mom, at the stove where she spent hours of her life.

                             Mom, holding Tony and sharing her immense Christmas cactus. That thing was 10 years or more.

                                            Mom seldom took time off. Notice the chair and its fabric?

Mom with my sister Mary and Aunt Vada

                                       

                             

Animal Farm by George Orwell

Noble and Defeated

The first time I read Animal Farm in high school I was astounded. The courage of the animals fighting against the humans, with the hogs as the forceful nature negotiating. (as a farmer's daughter, let me tell you that hogs cannot be trusted. Nasty natures.) The true heroes are the animals who are selfless in this struggle.

Then after some years, an animated version of the story appeared on TV. Pretty much the same as the book, this time I was furious at the hogs, as their true cruelty and deviousness comes to light. It is such a surprising book, especially given the time period, WW2 and pre-Cold War.

The narration is everything such a story would require. Allegorical, metaphorical, satirical, it is  a veiled comparison to USSR. When the book is freely published, it was not well received in Socialist countries of the world, still isn't. The following paragraph is from Wikipedia, partial synopsis. 

"Humanity and equality.The poorly-run manor farm is up for change. at a ..

poorly-run Manor Farm near Willingdon, England, is ripened for rebellion from its animal populace by neglect at the hands of the irresponsible and alcoholic farmer, Mr. Jones. 

One night, the exalted boar, Old Major, holds a conference, at which he calls for the overthrow of humans and teaches the animals a revolutionary song called "Beasts of England". 

When Old Major dies, two young pigs, Snowball and Napoleon, assume command and stage a revolt, driving Mr. Jones off the farm and renaming the property "Animal Farm". 

They adopt the Seven Commandments of Animalism, the most important of which is, "All animals are equal". The decree is painted in large letters on one side of the barn. 

Snowball teaches the animals to read and write, while Napoleon educates young puppies on the principles of Animalism. Food is plentiful, and the farm runs smoothly. The pigs elevate themselves to positions of leadership and set aside special food items, ostensibly for their personal health. 

Following an unsuccessful attempt by Mr. Jones and his associates to retake the farm (later dubbed the "Battle of the Cowshed"), Snowball announces his plans to modernize the farm by building a windmill. Napoleon disputes this idea, and matters come to head, which culminate in Napoleon's dogs chasing Snowball away and Napoleon declaring himself supreme commander."

George Orwell

 

The Uprising

Animal Farm YouTube with subtitles

Have you ever read Animal Farm? Easy read, meaningful then and even more so now. Take a chance, leap into George Orwell's writing. Insightful writer.

Memories will stay.

Never ever forget

If my head were ever hooked up to some machine that could access my strongest memory, the head scientists would be shocked.  “Well, look there, Dr. Fred!  Do you see that?! Who woulda thought?”  I can hear them saying that.

Most people would call up shared memories such as the birth of their children or maybe seeing a  parent after a long time.  No, my memories would be more plebeian and consequently more peculiar.

I would access the memory of an autumn day in my sophomore year at high school.  The bus had dropped me off in front of our farm house, and I walked beneath towering maple trees shedding their leaves.  My hand reached for the door, and I stepped into the warm kitchen, where my mother was washing dishes.  

 On the table, cooling from the oven was the entire head of a full grown hog.

How to make hog head cheese

Eyes, ears, snout, bristled hair, and pink thick skin—all the distinctive features of a hog’s head that I had seen thousands of times, but those hogs had been alive.  Those 

hogs had been rooting in the mud and muck and eating from the feeder. 

Bonding time
You have no idea how awful this smells.

The remains of long dead hog was there and the head had just been roasted in the oven.  The rest of the hog was cut into various roasts and chops, wrapped in white butcher paper resting comfortably in the freezer.

In just a few words, Mom sensed my discomfort.  My mother was the ultimate pragmatist, which served her well throughout her life on the farm. 

She pulled out two very large crocks and set them in front of the cooling head.  “Wanta get a snack before you start taking off the meat and skin?” 

I indicated that I wasn’t hungry.  “Well, change your clothes and wash up.  You’re gonna strip the head of meat and put it in this crock.  Put the skin and what-not in this other crock.  Don’t mix them up.” 

She went on to tell me that this meat was for mincemeat pies, the great nummy pies for which she was so famous.  

What?? 

Mom would take this meat, chop it up, mix it with God-knows-what-else-meat-discards and candied fruit, can it in quart jars, and set them in the pantry.  Then we would feast on mincemeat pie at Christmas time. Here is a recipe, but not my mom's:

You too can make this heavenly pie.

Click on the above to access this recipe.

Well done!

Mom even sent a jar to my 7th grade teacher, who waxed eloquently about this hog-filled pie filling.  

I had never known what we were eating and enjoying.

Sooo, when I set to the task by tearing off the ears and then cutting off the snout and ears, Mom said, “Oh, put those here in this jar.  I will pickle those; your father loves that.”  I just about up-chucked. (apparently the hog's trotters had met the same fate.)

 It didn’t get much better as the process when on.  Poke out the eyes.  Tear off the jowl meat.  Strip the muscles from the back of the neck.  On and on.  I do not recall what she said to do with the brain; I was pretty numb by then.

The science part of my own brain appreciated how God put together muscles and ligaments, attaching them to bones.  The fifteen year old farm girl in me was on the verge of vomiting. 

All in all, it stands out as a strong, indelible memory, now nearly 50 years old. What is yours?

P.S.  I haven't eaten mincemeat pie for years.  But, the store-jar versions are meat free, fully vegan, so maybe now?

This is a repost of a repost, first in 2015 and then in 2017. Some bloggers will probably remember it. But I wanted others to enjoy the experience. Just writing and making some changes brings back all those memories with its smells, textures, and images.

I hope this can change your life. It sure did mine.

What Grows in a Field

Lily and Clara trying to restrain Benjamin, unsuccessfully. He took off in a 2 yr. old run. I barely caught him.

Benjamin was unrepentant, in a cute way.

In 2014 our family joined together in Switzerland to spend time with Mary and Richard McKinley and our grandson Benjamin. It was a fabulous time, just can't tell you how great it was.

John and I stayed at an AirBnB in Kӧnig, a rural area near Berne. We booked it after Mary researched it. What she did not realize at the time that this lovely place had two fairly steep gravel roads leading to the apartment, which was on the second floor.  What she did not take into account was that we were her parents in their 60s.

This farmer owned about 4 John Deere implements, all pristine. 

These gravel roads led to a farm; not just a farm but it was paradise, at least to me. We always stopped at the barn and house where an arch of old barn connected to new barn. We rested for about five minutes because we were knackered before striking out on the next hill.


A farm was complete with cows, apple trees, a garden, and wheat fields. Each day as we walked by the farm, the wheat fields were ripening. What caught me was the red among the green.

So amazing, this lone poppy was a bravely growing flower.  

This is on my sidebar.

Within the second week, we trudged up the first hill and saw that the wheat had been harvested, taking the poppy with it.

It will return next year in another place. Poppies are resilient.

An Encounter to Remember

Old barn at the top of the first rise.  Oh, I wanted to break in so badly. We caught our breath at this stop.

Since my brain is still dancing about, this post will be about life’s fine moments.

We visited our daughter (in Switzerland) in  2014; had a grand time, played with our grandson, and enjoyed beautiful scenery.  We stayed at an Airbnb apartment just outside the city in KÖniz.

Getting there required two train changes and one bus. The last train dropped us off at bottom of a fairly short but steep rise.  My husband once counted the steps.

It led to a farm where our journey evened out.  Greatest stop ever.  This farm girl reveled in fields of wheat, orchards of apples, and dairy cows.

The next portion of our walk was up an even steeper hill.

Okay, the above is fairly lucid but the typos were many.  Hope I got them all.

In our 2+ week stay, I formed a relationship with one of the milk cows.  Morning and night she was in line for the milking machine. We exchanged in-depth eye contact. Although her ear tag is missing in this photo, it was #73.

I will never forget her.

Wednesday Words: The Storm

The Perfect Storm Source

Last night’s violent thunder and lightning storm more than battered Theo’s barn.  The storm brought it to the ground, leaving broken timbers and shattered planks.

Theo and Ellen were silent, as he assessed all that had been lost.  His eyes widened as he realized the cost to rebuild and to begin again.  Credit?  That was stretched beyond his ability to repay.

“Maybe we could take up a collection from our families?  I know that…” Ellen suggested, hesitantly.

Theo hung his head, “No, no.  I can’t ask them, you know that.”  Then Theo realized with clarity what he could do, what he should do.  “I’ll be back.” He hugged Ellen tightly and then getting into his truck, Theo drove out onto the dirt road in a cloud of dust.

Where did he go?  What will he do? Any ideas? 

This week, River provided 6 or 12 words for bloggers to use as a writing prompt, to stir up the old brain cells.  Take the leap and see what you can create.  You could write it in the comment section of River's site, post it on your own site (with a link back to River).  

I have really enjoyed these prompts.  They give me a chance to cut loose, take the plunge....