Saturday, March 18, 2023

Being On The Farm

 I had my own amusement park when I was a child. It was my grandparents' farm. Want to know more? Read on.

In one outbuilding Grandpa kept small equipment. Scythes, axes, rakes, shovels, hoes and things like that hung on the walls. Of course I was not allowed to mess with those. But they needed to be kept sharp and Grandpa had a sharpening wheel for that. It was a giant wheel that was approximately 3 1/2 feet in diameter set so it could turn on a contraption much like a bicycle. I would pretend to ride that thing for hours. I rode all over the world in that little shed.

I loved the barn. On one side was the tack for the horses. Bridles and saddles were safely hung in their places on the walls. All sorts of other equipment for the horses were stored there. Grandpa loved his horses. Not much to play with in this room but it had ladder-type stairs that led to the second story. 

We called it the hay mow but I have since heard it as the loft. That is where bales of hay are stored. The hay is used to feed the livestock and needed to be dry. Sometimes small amounts of grain like corn or wheat were kept there too. We would sit on the bales and tell stories or even just read for a while. Sometimes we would re-arrange the bales and make forts or houses to play in.

Big doors at the front of the hay mow opened over the pen the cows came to before entering their part of the barn to be milked. Hanging in the center of the door was a pulley with a long rope looped through it. Grandpa and my uncles used it to pull the bales of hay up for storage. I was not allowed near the rope. Every once in a while I would watch with envy as an uncle would hold onto the rope and lower himself from the hay mow.

The other half of the barn was the milking area. No machine milking on the farm. Grandpa and my uncles did it. This part of the barn was immaculate. Grandpa sold most of the milk. The floor in this part of the barn was concrete. (Easy to clean.) There was a trough behind the cows who were inconsiderate enough to eliminate themselves while in milking position.  The cows' heads were moved into stanchions and a board moved so they were unable to back out until released

We were not allowed close to the cows because they tend to be a bit testy while being milked. Instead we stood against the far wall to watch. If Grandpa or an uncle was in the mood they would squirt a stream of milk our way for us to catch in our mouths. It was exciting.

The pen the animals came to before milking had a big water trough. It held enough water for us to wade in on hot days. We had to be careful because there were sharp edges of rust and other buildup from age. At one end of the trough was the windmill. It was used to pump water into the trough. There is an art to controlling the windmill to protect it from high winds and to direct it so wind would provide the optimal amount of energy to make the pump work.

At one corner of the pen was a huge manure pile. Manure was used as fertilizer so it was saved. This pile had been there for a long time. We decided to make use of it. We dug out a cave that we used for a playhouse. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. After some time manure no longer stinks. It was a fun place to play.

This is quite long so I will regale you of more glories of the farm next time.

12 comments:

  1. I had three uncles with barns. Two uncles had jobs, and only farmed a bit. The other uncle fascinated me. He farmed with horses before "the war" and with a tractor after. The horses were kept to pasture, they were retired. This uncle never worked on Sundays (except milking) and neither did his horses.

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    1. Interesting history for your family. I hope it is passed along.

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  2. Thanks for sharing this idyllic memory.

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    1. I enjoyed learning about your experiences. I didn't know that manure stopped stinking after a while and that you can play in it.

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    2. It is probably not the most hygienic place to place. It was a very very old manure pile.

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  3. I appreciated that you shared these childhood memories, Emma. SO many children today do not know the joys of childhood in playing. You and your siblings had the best experiences on your grandfather's farm that left you with lasting joys. Interesting to read that manure doesn't stink after a while because when you described how you played in it, I was concerned about that issue.

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    1. To be honest I would not allow my children to play there.

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  4. I love those memories of yours, Emma.
    And am very glad that my triplet grandchildren grow up in a village with farmers - so they know how cows and calves and hens etc look. Though they have no manure house to play in - but if the wind stands "right", there comes a whiff from a pigsty in the village :-)

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    1. I am once again living in a mostly rural area. The smells that are borne on the wind are almost not noticed any more.

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  5. dear Emma i felt i was there almost to wander along you and see all those older beautiful lifestyle stored in past days :)
    so enjoyed how nicely you portrayed your memories ,most of the things mentioned in your story was seen by me as as little girl :) this is so exciting to learn that no matter how different our place are we still lived life similar in so many ways :)
    thank you sooo much for treasured sharing ! i can imagine in this part of age nothing is precious more than these memories :)
    hugs

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