Life on the farm as I remember it

 

 

When I was a very young boy, my family would spend almost every weekend on the farm. My grandmother died at a very young age and my mother being the oldest child felt a responsibility of taking care of her father and sisters and brother. My grandparents on my dad’s side were elderly when I was young and I only have a vague memory of them. My dad had four brothers and three sisters and they needed little help running the farm. Next to my immediate family, it is probably the most memorable part of my life.

The first thing I would do upon arrival would be to check the pie chest to see if any of my aunts baked any pies. Usually there would be one piece left, what a coincidence. As I got a little older, it became my job to clean all the chimneys on the oil lamps and take the chambermaid to the outhouse and empty it. That was one job I wish I never had. I would usually help collect eggs for breakfast and sometimes we would find an egg that everybody else missed for some time. That is another odor you do not want to experience. The garden was located between the house and the barn with a grape arbor running the length of the garden. On the other end of the house was a large old orchard with pears, plums, sweet and sour cherries, peaches and several apples with different ripening dates. The apple trees were huge and there was no way we could pick the apples on top, we could only pick the apples on the lower branches from a ladder. The apples from the tops would be collected as they fell. The orchard was covered with a very dense growth of orchard grass and many fallen apples would be undamaged. The damaged apples would be made into sauce and pies or sliced and dried for storage. Other jobs that I had were taking the horses to the watering trough twice a day and taking the cows to pasture in the morning and bringing them back to the barn in the evening for milking. Milking was one job I was not good at. Cows that were never known to kick, tried to kick me and that job went to someone else. My grandfather had a 60 GAL wooden barrel that was used for hog swill, it would be filled with mash, the excess milk along with table scraps except for meat, and bones and they went to the dogs. When the butter would turn rancid, it would be mixed with lye and used for soap. It was also my job to keep out of the way of the farming activities.

On my grandfather Best’s farm, my aunts and uncles married at an older age and two of my uncles never did marry. So labor to run the farm was less of a problem and most of our time there was just visiting. The most memorable times on both farms were mealtime. There was a brick oven in the back yard and it never cooled down, my grandmother would bake every single day. I use to travel in my employment to most of the states including Canada and Mexico. I was on expense account and ate at some very fine restaurants, including one of the worlds ten best located in Lancaster, Pa. None of them even came close to an everyday meal on a productive farm.

While, I am in school now, we still spend weekends on the farm, and I still have the jobs as before. In addition, my brother, cousin, and I are spending most of our summer vacation helping my grandfather. The garden and farm crops have all been planted. In the morning, we have to get the hay in the barn that my grandfather cut with a scythe and raked into windrows. I am still too small in stature to pitch the hay up onto the hay wagon, so it was my job to stack the hay as my brother and cousin pitched it on the wagon. My grandfather drove the team, Jake and Clyde. When a fork full of hay would come extra close to me, I knew there would be a black snake in it. It seems that when a field is cut the black snakes head for the windrows to get in the shade. When my brother or cousin seen one it would come straight at me. They just wanted to see me dance I guess.

Once in awhile my grandfather would leave and go shopping or visiting and let us boys alone with my aunt. My aunt was young but older than we boys were. You know the old saying,”boys will be boys” well we decided to ride the old sow. We put some corn in the trough and when she was distracted, my brother slung his leg over her back and grabbed both ears. Well between her and the pen was all this slop and the opening she was headed for was only big enough for her. You guessed it, my brother ended up on his back in the middle of all that slop. Pay back time for the snakes, HA HA. On another occasion, we decided to ride the calf. She did not go for that shit, threw my brother, and jumped a fence. It took my grandfather three days to find the calf. To say my grandfather was a little POed is an understatement but I thing it reminded him of his own children.

At the end of the day, we had to clean the horse stalls, put down new bedding, feed and water them. After that we had to take showers, oh my. The shower consisted of a pipe coming from a spring into a horse-watering trough and from the overthrow of the trough over a bank above a wood platform that looked like a skid, maybe it was. There was a community washcloth and a bar of soap but no towels.  The water was so cold, it was like someone standing there and hitting you with a baseball bat. After that, you stood in the sunshine until you were dry enough to get dressed. Soon we would hear my aunt calling, “suppertime” you would be so hungry that you could eat the north end of a southbound skunk.   Soon after dinner, the sun would start to go down and you headed for bed. On each bed was a feather mattress, feather pillows and a feather comforter. All I can remember is laying there listening to the owls, foxes chasing rabbits, katydids singing for mates and watching bats flying in one window and out the other trying to catch insects. All of a sudden, it is morning, not quite daylight yet and that damned rooster is out there crowing his ass off. Oh my it starts all over again I wonder when school starts.

Usually on Saturday evening we would head for New Bethlehem, Pa to do some shopping or get a haircut. Even if we were farm boys at that time, we were not permitted to look shabby. We had to get back to the farm in time to listen to the Judy Kenova show and the Grand Old Oprey on a battery operated radio, our only contact with the outside world. My grandfather may have known that once we boys started chasing girls that we would not be much help on the farm and decided to retire. Soon after, he sold the team and the farm equipment. We continued to visit quite often but it was not the same. In the fall of 1954, my father and I were getting dressed to go deer hunting on the farm when we got a call from a neighbor who said that my grandfather was fine but the house burned down. What a loss, most of the furniture was from my great grandfather and every single piece was an antique. My grandfather then sold the barn and a Sears one hole outhouse. Surprisingly, he got more $ for the outhouse than he did for the barn.

Any comments will be appreciated.

 

 

 

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Categories: Life on the farm | Tags: , | 13 Comments

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13 thoughts on “Life on the farm as I remember it

  1. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  2. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  3. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  4. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  5. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  6. Ah…the memories! I lived with my grandparents on their farm until I was about 6 years old, then visited often after that, so I was quite familiar with the farm life. We had a three-holer, though. A big hole for Grandpa, a mid-sized for Grandma and a small one for me (Grandpa built our outhouse…he couldn’t afford a store-bought one). And I still remember using the pages from the old Montgomery Ward catalog for toilet tissue! You had to rub it back and forth between your hands to soften it up a bit before using it. One time Grandpa moved the outhouse to a new, fresh location because we were having a family reunion and, not having time to completely cover the old hole, he tossed just enough dirt over it to serve as odor control. Later, the kids were playing baseball in the yard and Uncle Walt, chasing a fly ball, ran right into the old outhouse hole. He had to be taken to the creek to bathe before he was allowed to return to the party!

    Granny

    Like

  7. luv2grdn

    It sounds like you had a good childhood. Kids today would be a lot better off with that kind of life. Too many are bored and get into trouble because of it.
    I heard stories from my mom and grandmother about their days on the ranch. My mom was an only child though, so she didn’t have the fun of siblings to romp around with. The ranch is still in the family, but the kids of the people running it don’t have a life like my mom did. It’s still better than kids in the city have it. They help out on the ranch and have raised livestock.
    Thanks for a look back in time.

    Like

  8. engineeredgarden

    Wow, John…that was a long post! But very educational…I honestly like hearing stories about life in the old days, and my father tells me some, occasionally. It was a good story. Thanks!

    EG

    Like

  9. carolynp

    I read that to my kids during reading time today. I still think we have zero idea how well off we are.
    My oldest’s friend was telling him about how this is just like the great depression and I started just laughing. As if!!

    Like

  10. John, I followed your like from Idig and truly enjoyed your post about life on the farm. Very much of it mirrors the life that I remember on my grandparents farm. Especially the grape arbor that ran the lenght of the garden. I would run like crazy past that because I was afraid of the bees! It was my job to gather the eggs and I was terrified of the chickens. They would peck at my bare feet and granddaddy would always tell me to wear shoes, but I was (am) hard headed!

    Great Post!

    Linda

    Like

  11. jbest123

    Thanks all, Granny actually my grandfather Kunzelman was quite wealthy until the great depression, All he ended up with was the farm and that Sears one hole outhouse.

    John

    Like

  12. medo

    that is an awesome post!! i was remembering some of the things when i was growing up, i can remember the riding on the pigs, and the trouble we got into!! WOO HOOO!! LOL when grandma and grandpa moved out to the rez {reservation} he bought a trailer but it had no plumbing installed yet, so he made an outhouse, so in the middle of the winter, we were dragging ourselves out in the freezing cold to the outhouse and going potty, and in the dark. in the summer, with all them spiders UGH!!! the things that go thru your mind as a 5 yr old. LOL i do miss those days, i always tell my kids they have it too easy!! way to easy!! LOL ~medo

    Like

  13. What an awesome story! I’ve never lived on a farm but my DH was raised on a dairy farm in Kentucky. He has told me so many stories. He left the farm for the Navy and then a “city job”. I can’t count how many times he has told me that even though the farm work was so much harder physicially, at the end of the day the satisfaction of seeing what you have accomplished was worth it all. He’d go back to living and working a farm in a heart beat.

    Like

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