Confessions of a Farm Wife

Confession #4 - About the years that the 'town family' moved to our farming area, we were at our annual visit to my Grandparents, which is when we, the 'farm people', tasted life in the city for a few weeks. Dad could only get a weeks vacation from making hay and milking cows, so he drove our family the full two days and deposited us to our Grandparents' home. Our Grandma got very, very carsick and could barely tolerate a ride to a park for picnic, let alone another trip to our place; once was it. So Mom and we kids stayed at the Grandparents for 3 weeks every summer.
The biggest difference I noticed about living in the city was how close kids lived to each other. In contrast, the nearest a kid my age lived was at least a mile in any of four directions from our farm. My cousin was one of them and when our parents didn't drive us back and forth, we rode our bikes. We even had our designated 'half-way mark', where we loyally accompanied the other one and then split to go home. We never let the other one ride all that way alone. Not worried about perverts back then, we were just were true friends.
This supposed 'isolation' during my childhood was deepened by our phone system. This cousin and all but one of my school mates were long distance calls. I probably called my cousin less than 5 times all during my growing up years!
So, while eating lunch at Grandma's it was unsettling to have the neighbor boy, just a year younger and sometimes rather pesky, paste his face against her kitchen screen door. Mom would ask what he wanted, and he wanted to know when I could 'come out and play'. Some days I didn't want to 'come out and play' with him, but he was already posted at the door, awaiting my exit. That never happened back at my house on the farm; we could carefully chose our playmates.
But those weeks in the city offered new adventures: real sidewalks that even went to the back door beckoning for bikes and roller skates, mysterious back alleys, the downtown ice cream parlor, and best of all was the mom & pop grocery store every couple of blocks. Ours was just a half- block walk away! Pure joy was a 2 minute hop on a sweltering August afternoon! And Mom often gave the ok. There developed my life-long fondness for orange sherbert push-up bars and ice cream sandwiches.
Still, I was always ready to go back home, ride my bike with my cousin on our rough gravel roads, and years later found myself happily, settled back on a dairy farm. But then came the years 2008 and 2009.

Confessions of a Farm Wife

Confession #3 - One of the things I love most about being the wife of a farmer.....is being sexually harassed by my boss in the office. :)
Some of the rainy hours and cold days bring my husband inside longer, so we can sip coffee together and tackle those piles in the office, which grow for months as the corn is growing and my husband is busy in the fields.
I love the fresh cream for my coffee, risen to the top of our jug of raw, unadulterated milk which is neither homogenized or pasteurized.
No dull moments here with my husband bopping in and out of the house during the day. I feel badly for my friends who never see their husbands from a.m. to p.m. For some of those friends, returning to work when the kids got older brought them sanity, just to see people.
After spending part of my life in a city apartment with a brick wall 3 feet away, I gratefully look out my windows and see fields and trees and cows, sunrises and the coming rain clouds. Long and peaceful walks on our property with my dog refresh me body, soul, spirit and mind.
I love the immense benefits of a childhood on a farm, as we experienced and now give to our children. We have swims in the ponds, sledding down the hills, hayrides and bonfires, and massive fields for football games with the neighbor kids. Potential trouble always had a corresponding potential chore....
At the end of the day, I love snuggling by my husband who usually sleeps soundly within a few minutes, the problems of today and tomorrow pushed aside, as his tired body rests from all the physical work.
And then came the years 2008 and 2009.

Confessions of a Farm Wife

Confession #2 - I confess, which probably seems rather ironic, that though I am the wife of a dairy farmer, I would NEVER, EVER want to 'be' a dairy farmer; I wouldn't qualify very well.
Helpful job descriptions for this all-weather, dairy farming occupation include the following:
- feet which survive on cold cement & do not require socks at night 9 months of the year
- hands which do not get rough in in cold water or on a quick run without gloves to the mailbox
- bladder which does not interrupt most tasks
- can function on less than average number of hours of sleep
- body fights off colds and flu well and keeps going like the energizer bunny
- mind that reads and comprehends complicated, official documents
- brain that retains a multitude of info on updated topics
- faith and calmness to be able to pay large and looming bills
- and most of all, hair that doesn't wash out the colored roots on each return from the barn!
But I do LOVE many things about "being" the wife of a farmer.....but then came the years 2008 and 2009.