Two weekends ago, we finally headed back to my parents' farm for our first visit since Christmas. There comes a time when I absolutely NEED to go home. The incessant wind, the dismal water-logged situation that our own home is threatened by, and just the bleak spring days make me truly yearn for the busyness of spring on the farm where I grew up. My littles were excited and couldn't wait to go and visit Grandma and Grandpa.
The 3 hour trip wasn't too terrible. My littles both get car-sick, and so they were given sufficient pills to get them through the trip-thankfully no vomit happened. Around the 2 1/2 hour mark, my heart starts to feel lighter as I watch the fields & pastures between stands of trees get to be more and more a regular sight. Then, without fail, we turn the corner (we call it Halko's corner-as that's the name of the farmer that's closest to it) and I can see my dad's grain bins and shed in the faint distance and I instantly feel better. We drive past "Orange's lake", which in reality is just a big slough with the road passing through the middle. Then I see the details- the bales stacked with my dad's anal neatness, the barnyard, the cows walking through the muddy corrals, the shop, my grandparent's house, and my parent's house and I'm HOME. There is no better feeling.
Every time I go home, I get out and take a deep breath. Spring is not exactly a lovely smelling time on the farm, but I take a deep breath anyway. THIS is a farm to me-the smells of the barnyard, of the sickly-sweet silage, the cattle, the wet dogs peeing on my vehicle's tires, the swampy smell of the fields. I'm not exactly keen on the grain dust smells of my farmer's coveralls, but for better or for worse, I'll forgive him his dusty-smelling clothes. :)
During our stay, we checked on the little calves that were playing on the mounds of manure and straw in the feed-ground. We went for little quad rides around the yard, washing the cow poop off of our boots and the quads. We visited with MY paternal grandparents, who, at 78 & almost 80, are still living and working (albeit doing much less, and at a much slower pace than when I was a kid) on the farm as well.
We only stayed for 2 full days, but my kids really enjoyed spending time outside with the cows, and the chickens, and of course, their grandparents & great-grandparents too! The last day we were there, my dad happened to bring in a sick calf who had stopped feeding from it's mother. He had given it some electrolytes & put it in the calf box inside the warm shop to help it get healthier. We happened to go into the shop, and I promptly put my girl in the box with the calf & took a picture so that she will have these memories. My boy didn't want to be that close, but he was very happy to watch the calf from the outside of the box.
It makes my heart happy to see that my littles will get to experience SOME of what I was able to grow up with, some of which I had taken for granted until having children of my own. I don't want them to grow up and be the kind of people that are ignorant & have no idea that farmers really do feed the world, whether it's through the actual food chain, or it's something much deeper-something to do with feeding the soul.
C
