Riding the Snow Plow

Snow storms on the farm, meant clearing the driveway to the barn so the milk truck could get through.  Father also made a path to the chicken house behind the barn, so we'd easily get there to feed the chickens and collect the eggs.  He often plowed across the front lawn.  I'm not sure why, because we never drove the car up there.  But it was his custom.

We didn't have snow blowers or small tractor powered snow plows.  Father made a large V shaped contrivance from wood with pieces across to hold it together.  Initially a chain from the point of the V was hooked behind the horses who pulled it to clear pathways.  When Father got a tractor, he pulled the plow with it.

What fun we had sitting on the cross pieces as Father made the rounds of the farm.  Our weight helped hold the plow down so he could make a deeper impression with the plowing.  Somewhere I have photos Mother took of us children on the snow plow.

Of course, we had to hand shovel paths to the wood house, to the plowed driveway, down the front walkway.  There was a lot of shoveling and plowing on the farm, but I don't recall any of us complaining.  Perhaps we did, but generally we knew we wouldn't get out of the work, so sputtering about it did no good. 

The sooner we got the shoveling done, the sooner we could make a snowman!

Thanksgiving on the Farm

Generally we spent Thanksgiving at my grandmother's farm during my childhood.  Until I was 4 years old, my grandfather was alive and owned the Trails End Farm, about 45 miles from ours in Poughquag.  After his death, my Uncle Web bought the shares from his three siblings, with the agreement that his mother (Nanny) and sister (Auntie), who cared for Nanny, would live there during their lifetimes. Uncle Web and Aunt Bess had built a separate addition to the farmhouse for their home.

We all gathered at Nanny's large dining table in the dining room for this festive meal.  Mother usually cooked a large rooster (we raised chickens and sold eggs on our dairy farm) and brought it along in the covered roasting pan.  It sat on the floor of the back seat and served as a footwarmer in those days before cars had heaters.

Each cook at Trails End prepared something to add to the meal.  Auntie always had homemade bread and home churned butter.  She brought out some of the pickles she'd made in the summer.  Then there were other vegetables as well as mashed potatoes.  Auntie always made delicious pies.

In later years, after Nanny's death when I was in high school, we gathered at our home for Thanksgiving.  Sometimes Auntie was with us for the holiday.  By then we no longer raised chickens on the farm, so Father purchased a turkey.  As the children married, those who lived nearby celebrated Thanksgiving at the farm. 

Grandpa's Blacksmith Shop

The small building behind our farmhouse consisted of the wood house and Grandpa's blacksmith shop.  The main portion, where Grandpa fired up his forge and hammered out horseshoes and other items for farm use, was two story.  The woodhouse seemed sort of an afterthought build onto this.

The upstairs was somewhat of a storage area, although we children sometimes played up there.  I never gave it much thought, why the building had two stories.  However, in later years, a family friend said he'd heard that small building was the original house, where the family lived until the larger main house was built.

I do recall watching Grandpa, who died when I was four years old, hammer the red hot horseshoes into shape on his forge.  He also used bellows to fan the coals hotter and brighter. 

I still have one of the horseshoes Grandpa made.  Actually he made it into a door knocker for the kitchen door of our farmhouse.  It's attached to a metal backing.  When you lift the horseshoe and let it drop onto the metal, the sound could be heard within the house.  I don't have a place to attach it to a door in our current house, but keep it as a fond memento.

The Thrill of Halloween on the Farm

Getting ready for Halloween was an exciting time at our farmhouse.  Mother helped us children make costumes for school parties.  One year, she cut and sewed a multitude of orange and black crepe paper into a witch costume for me.  Another year, she made my sister a pumpkin headed ghost costume, using one of the large pumpkins from the garden for a head.  (I used this as inspiration for my story, "Mama's Prize Pumpkin" in my children's anthology, Tales of Adventure & Discovery.

Mother also made pumpkin cookies for a treat.  She baked pumpkin pies, too. 

We also carved funny faces on pumpkins, then put candles inside for lights.  The hired man told us scary tales as he sat on the kitchen couch waiting for meals.

Sometimes there was a community party at the local town hall, the gathering place for young and old.  Since our farmhouse wasn't located near others, we started from my friend's home in a more populated area for our "trick or treating."

These are just a few of the memories of our Halloween fun on the farm.

Books About Your Farming Heritage & Memories

Many people write about their childhoods on the farm or their current farming experiences.  Those I've seen are written for more than family memories.  However, start with recording for your farming heritage for your family and then find if others might be interested, too.

If, like in my husband's family, there are a number of children (eight boys), then there will be an extended number of family members who would like a copy of these memoirs.  In fact, my mother-in-law wrote a six-part series for the local newspaper about living on the farm as the boys were growing up.  A friend compiled these articles into a booklet for Mum to give as Christmas gifts to each of the eight.  It's something we treasure and which I think of reissuing, with photos, because the grandchildren and great grandchildren have expressed interest.

Some published books about farm life:


Next Year Country by Lorney Faber
Remembering the Farm by Allan Anderson
Down on the Farm: Childhood Memories of Farming in Canada by Jean Cochrane
Pictures from the Farm: An Album of Family Farm Memories by John Allen
This Old Farm: A Treasury of Family Farm Memories by Roger Welsch

Are you writing your family memories?  If you live on a farm, do you keep a journal?  After I married and lived half way across the country from the family farm, my mom wrote me letters about their activities.  Some were very humorous and others simply a daily accounting.  But I've kept those letters and should compile the anecdotes into a booklet for family members.

Farming Heritage Memory Book

As I reminisce and compile my memories of a childhood on the farm, I consider how I'll put this together for future generations of my family.  Since I come from a farming heritage of parents, grandparents and great grandparents who grew up on farms and eeked a living from the land, I want my daugthter, grandchildren and future generations to know from whence they came.  This is their heritage, too.

Eventually I'd like to compile these blog posts and other memories, along with photos, into a Farming Heritage Memory Book for my descendants and those of my sister and brothers.  Perhaps others will enjoy reading about them, too....to reminisce about their heritage or just to learn about earlier life in our country.

Are you starting to write down your farming memories?  Or keep a journal or blog if you're currently farming?

As Autumn Winds Down on the Farm

As autumn winds down and farmers prepare for winter, there were always a multitude of tasks on the farm.  Some were tedious, while others enjoyable.  I guess it all depended on how one looked at it.

• Stashing bales of hay (and before the days of baling) against the back side of the house to keep the frost and cold from invading the cellar so much and causing pipes to freeze.  We also had to do this with the north side of the barn.
• Making sure water pipes were insulated and covered, too.
• Putting up the last vegetables in jars.
• Digging the potatoes and store them in the large bin in the cellar.  There might be some carrots there, too.
• Shelling corn, in the hand turned machine, to bag for the chickens.  Sometimes we stored the corn in the corn house and then shelled as needed.
• Making sure everyone had boots and mittens to ward off the coming winter cold.
• Stacking firewood and splitting kindling.  We had a wood fired cookstove and furnace, which took a lot of wood.

What winter preparation tasks do you undertake as autumn winds down.  Do you have specific ones you remember from childhood?

Rainy Days on the Farm

Rainy days meant different things, depending on the time of year and the work to be done.  Farmers are at the mercy of the weather.  They can't change it, so have to try to plan around it.  That's not always successful, but to a farmer, the weather is important.  Nowadays, we have more accurate weather reports that help.  When I was growing up, farmers used some of the old folk tale methods of trying to predict, as well as listening to the weather man on the radio.  (No TV and weather maps when I was a youngster.)

During haying season, we had to work around the showers and hope the hay had time to dry.

If we had a long season without rain, the spring that provided drinking and cooking water got low and we had to haul by hand and pail what we used.  Fortunately Father connected up to the brook for other household needs.

We needed rain in spring and summer for the garden and crops, but not too much and not at the wrong time.  We learned techniques for working around the weather and salvaging crops.

There always was lots of inside work saved for rainy days.  So when rain was prolonged, some of these tasks were caught up. 

And....we children enjoyed splashing through the puddles!

Autumn's Colored Leaves & Memories on the Farm

Autumn was very colorful on our farm with many maples in the yard and in the woods surrounding the fields.  The maple across the road from the house, near the spring, always turned a vibrant red each year.  We could look out the kitchen window, that Father built above the sink, and see the colorful woodland beyond the barn and corn fields.

Frost often covered the yard and pastures in early morning.  We could see the cows' breath as they meandered to the barn.  Lacy bits of ice formed along the banks of the brook that ran between our house and barn from Whaley Lake, then met the Gardner Hollow Brook in our pasture.  Where did it run from there?  Down through Poughquag, I think.  But I don't know after that...unless it was Fishkill Creek.

What are your autumn memories?

Have you ever put together an autumn memories puzzle?

Harvest Time

Harvest time on the farm extended from the first haying in June throughout the summer until corn silage time in the fall.  Often the farmers would help one another and go from farm to farm for oats and corn gathering.  They would set up the equipment and bring the grains in from the field to bag and store and, with silage, put into the silo.

This was a time, too, when the women prepared noon meals for the larger crew.  Perhaps two or three of the neighbor ladies would gather at the home where harvesting was being done and do the cooking.  Mother often had a neighbor lady help her, one who often babysat for us children, too.  As Sister and I grew older, we helped with the cooking and serving.

Even though this was hard work in summer and fall, it was a good time as well.  Stories were told, reminiscenses shared, and neighborhood news spread. 

I've even found some photos my mom took in the 1930s of the men harvesting the oats and straw, with the threshing machine set up before the building we called the "straw barn." 

I've realized I need to record these memories for my children and grandchildren, as part of their heritage.  Are you doing this with yours?

Apple Time Memories on the Farm

Apple time meant hours in the orchard when I was growing up. Although Father was a dairy farmer, he also operated an orchard and grew apples to sell. One of my tasks was going to the orchard after school and on weekends to pick apples for our use and to send to market.


The views from the orchard were spectacular since it was near the top of the "Big Hill" on our farm. From there we could view the Hudson River Valley in the distance and, on clear days, the Catskill Mountains west of the river.

Father initially purchased a second farm adjoining ours.  It had an old orchard, but the trees did produce.  There were old varieties including Baldwins.  Father decided to expand and planted 500 trees in the next field which was on our original farm on the "Big Hill."  These consisted or Red and Yellow Delicious, Mcintosh and Cortlands.

From somewhere he purchased a sprayer pulled behind the tractor.  He learned about apple growing and marketing and did most of that work himself.  It was his hobby turned productive.

In the fall, the rest of the family was recruited as we picked and picked and picked.  A neighbor lady, named Kate, came each fall to pick apples.  Kate did housework and yard work for various people to earn her living.  She seemed to enjoy climbing up the ladder into the trees and picking apples.

When apple time comes around each fall, my apple memories surface.  The hard work translated into the work ethic instilled into farm children of those days. 

You also might want to check out: Apples, Apples Everywhere - Favorite Recipes from America's Orchards.

Garden Gathering Time

As summer came to a close, we were furiously gathering goodies from the garden (a large one at the far end of the house) to enjoy, but also to preserve for winter food.  Much of our food was grown on the farm.  We purchased very little if we could raise it ourselves.

Mother and we girls were canning tomatoes which we enjoyed stewed throughtout the cold weather months.  Potatoes were dug and put into the bin in the cellar.  Pumpkins and squash soon would follow.  The last of the cucumbers we made into pickles.

The beans had been canned with a few pickled as a special treat.  Sweet corn had been cut from the cob and canned. Beets were pulled, then canned or pickled.

The garden was becoming bare and we looked forward to plentiful meals during the winter.

(Image: sxc.hu)

Preserving Summer's Bounty
Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving
5-Piece Home Canning Kit
7-Piece Home Canning Set

Dogs on the Farm

Several dogs come to mind when I think of life on the farm.  They were cow dogs, but were gentle with us children, too.

Shep was the dog of my early childhood.  He was a collie and was living there when I was born.  Dan, our hired man, sent Shep for the cows in the pasture late afternoon, and he would round them up.  I don't know if Dan was the one who trained him or whether my dad did.

Shep was tolerant of us children and seemed like one of the family.  We even had a birthday cake for him on his birthday in December.  As I recall, Mother said that was the month he was born.

Bud Rover followed Shep, who died of old age.  We acquired him as a pup, when Shep was getting stiff and unable to round up the cows.  He was part German Shepherd and part collie.  My sister and I wanted to call him Rover and my brother opted for Bud.  So Mother combined the names to satisfy us all, and Bud Rover answered to either or all.

Dan took him along when getting the cows for milking, and Bud Rover soon learned his task.  However, he wasn't so good on his own as Shep was.

Dasher was a dash hound we acquired, I don't know from where.  Low to the ground and comical, he wasn't much of a cow dog.  But he became one of the family and followed my brothers around.  By now, Dan had retired, and we youngsters called in the cows and sought out the elusive ones in the pasture.  Dasher came along for the run on his short legs, but didn't scare the cows much, I think.

I left for college when we still had Dasher and married after graduation.  However, my brothers had several dogs to help them on the farm in those years.  Generally the dogs we had were working dogs and expected to help us in the pasture.  They often liked to follow us to the hay fields, too.

What were the dogs in your life on the farm?

Farm Dogs: A Celebration of the Farm's Hardest Worker

School Time for Farm Children

For my first four years of school, I attended a one-room schoolhouse.  There were six grades, taught by one teacher.  This time of year, I looked forward to going back and seeing all my friends.

Sister and I had new dresses for the first day.  My brothers had new pants (not jeans for school) and shirts.  Even though money wasn't plentiful, Mother got us something new to wear for starting school.  Getting a new "store bought" dress was something I looked forward to.  (Mother made many of our clothes on her treadle sewing machine.  But she purchased dresses for starting school.)

The school was about half a mile from our farm.  Mother or Father drove us to school in the morning.  But most days we walked home from school, carrying our bookbags and lunch boxes. 

I've been trying to find a picture of the Poughquag Schoolhouse but have only come across one on a postcard that probably was an earlier version.  The building seems somewhat different from what a friend and I recall.  So we're wondering if the original school was distroyed or dismantled an a newer one built when we attended.

In a desire to recapture my one-room school memories, I've begun writing my One-Room School Heritage blog.

Some books available about one-room schools around the country.  (Eventually I should compile my blog entries into a book with photos and sketches.)

Legacy of One-Room Schools
One-Room Country Schools: History and Recollections from Wisconsin
Northwest Indiana One Room School

Tips for Developing Your Own Blog for Fun or Profit

As blogging grows more and more popular, whether for business, keeping connected with friends and family, or simply for fun, it's a good idea to keep up with what's current in the blogging world. Also, if you're just beginning, it's helpful to have some guidelines.


Blogging All-In-One for Dummies, by Susan Gunelius, is an excellent resource, I've discovered. Even though I've been blogging for quite some time, first just to try it out with a personal blog, and then to promote my books and workshops, as well as writing for paying gigs, I've still much to learn about this activity.

Susan's book, actually 8 Books in 1, gives you so much information whether you're beginning or consider yourself a professional, whether you simply want to write about your life and activities or want to earn an income.

You may start with one blog to try it out.  Or you may have a cause or personal reason for writing your blog.  You may add different blogs to your repertoire, as I've done.

My most recent is this one, Farm Girl Heritage, because I wanted to preserve these memories for my daughter and her children.  Perhaps my sister's children and grandchildren would enjoy learning how their mom and aunt grew up.

Memories of Our Farm Produce Stand

As summer rolls along, sweet corn season approaches. Even though we may have purchased some at the store before this, nothing equals that found at a farm produce stand or right from our own garden. Corn crunched off the cob is delicious, something we look forward to each summer.

I'm also reminded of the years of my childhood on the farm, when we children operated a sweet corn stand along the highway in front of our house. Extra corn raised in the garden, that we didn't eat and Mother didn't can, we sold there. As we children became old enough, it was our job to wait on the customers.

We even made the signs. One year, customers called Mother's attention to a sign crayoned on cardboard, "Corn for Sail." She didn't tell us until some time later because she didn't want to discourage us in our venture. Also, this sign probably brought in more customers.

Our stand consisted only of a small table, money box, and baskets of corn.  Nothing fancy.  But it brought in grocery money (for items not raised on the farm) and for other small essentials.  We children didn't get the money for ourselves.  It was a family affair and all shared.  Friends looked forward to our sweet corn each year. 

We sometimes sold other produce, but mainly sweet corn.

Do you have farm produce stand memories?  And other farm memories?

Sharing a Farming Heritage

As I browsed through my first copy of Mary Jane's Farm magazine, I began to reminisce about my farm girl heritage. I grew up on a dairy farm in the Hudson River Valley of New York State during the 1940s and 50s.

Even though those memories are ingrained in my mind and form part of my heritage, my daughter and grandchildren, nieces and nephews won't know about them unless I record the stories in some form.

My husband grew up on a dairy farm in New Hampshire, as did his father. My parents came from farming backgrounds in NYS.

Although we don't live on farms now, the years of childhood shaped our lives and character. They instilled a work ethic that has taken us through the decades.

Photos of the farming activities bring back memories, as do writings of my parents and grandfather.

I'd like to share these memories and experiences with those who enjoy reading my blog. Perhaps you'll realize the value of your farming heritage, too.

(Image; sxc.hu)

Memories of a Farming Heritage

Since my daughter and grandchildren didn't grow up on farms as my husband and I did, nor have had the opportunity to spend much time on one, I've started a blog to collect some of the memories of work and play that have given Jim and me our backgrounds to cope with life.

Dairy farming as we knew it, in general, has gone the way of large corporate farms. But I wouldn't trade my childhood and teen years as a farmer's daughter for any other life. Sometimes we wondered, as youngsters, if the hard work was worth it. But, for the most part, we simply accepted it as our life and realized we had it much better than so many other youngsters.

Sometimes, though, we couldn't understand why our friends liked to spend time on the farm with us, helping with work and staying in a house that wasn't as modern as theirs. They seemed to enjoy their hours spent with us.

(Image: sxc.hu)