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!

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?

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)