Earliest Memories and Farm Life

What are your earliest memories?  In my last post, I talked about the clothing I wore, and I mentioned standing on the front seat of our car while Daddy drove us to Concordia.  That is just a "flashback" memory. I remember the car, and sitting between my parents while they talked together, and what I wore.  I knew where we were going, but little else.

Another flashback is Mama taking me out to the outhouse behind the house, to go potty. I was probably about three or four, I only remember using that outhouse a couple of times, and then suddenly it seemed we had indoor plumbing, or at least a toilet and a bathtub. I think Mama must have put her foot down about it. It was pretty scary out there at night. There were no lights and we had to feel our way around with our hands. In the summertime, sometimes there were snakes in there, and there were always lots of nasty flies.

I remember Lassie. I watched Lassie on tv when I was little.  I loved how that beautiful collie was always saving someone or some animal from danger.  I remember noticing how she would lead her "project" to safety by walking ahead, then stopping and looking around and barking.

Our dog was also a collie, and her name was Lassie too. And when I was about four or five, she began acting that way one day.  I just knew she was trying to lead me somewhere. So I followed her. She led me through the yard, through the neighbor's pasture, around the pond, and over the hill to the neighbor's house.

I knocked on the door, and Mrs. Jacobsen, our neighbor, let me in while she called my mom. In a very short time, my mom was at Mrs. Jacobsen's door, and she was very angry with me, but she hugged me tight and I saw tears in her eyes as she begged me to never do that again.  I didn't. But it was a fond memory for me, anyway.

Our farm was once a dairy farm. We had quite a few Holstein cows, big black and white cows. They were pretty, most of the time, but they often wore their own feces and urine, because they walked around and lay down in it.  I always wondered why they lay in it when there was higher ground with grass.  Stupid cows.

Anyway, my dad had machines to hook up to the cows' teats to get the milk.  But he had more cows than machines, so there were always a few he milked by hand.  He'd squeeze and pull and milk would come streaming out into the bucket he held under the cow.  The cats like to hang around during milking time, because occasionally he would aim the milk stream into their open mouths.  They loved that fresh milk. 

After collecting the milk, he fed the cattle and released them back outside the barn, then carried the milk to the house where the milk separator was located.  I grew up with the sound of that noisy machine separating the milk from the cream, and seeing the big milk trucks coming to pick up the milk.   Some people had milk delivered to their houses in bottles, we sent the milk to the pasteurizer to be bottled and sent to others.  Of course, we kept some.  We never lacked for fresh milk or cream, and the ice cream...it was out of this world!  I still have my mom's ice cream recipe and love it!

Mama's garden was always a lot of work, but we had fresh sweet corn, green beans, peas, carrots, lettuce, and  much more to eat. We spent most of our summers canning and freezing the rewards from her garden.  Even after I grew up, she'd share her produce with us.  We ate really well.

Life on the farm was often good.