My grandparent’s farm was my first classroom. The lessons learned have stayed with me through the years and woven themselves into the fabric of my history.
Witnessing the birth of a calf is perhaps one of the most impacting memories from those days. I remember it laying in the hay like black and white origami. The calf unfurled itself with the delicate precision of a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. First one leg descended, and then three more. Within minutes, it stood on four spindly limbs searching for its mother. The experience taught me how to be still and enjoy a moment.
I learned practical things too. A raspberry isn’t as sweet as it sounds when it’s on your knees. The best way to stop your bicycle is with your brakes. Peddling head on into a cedar tree will do the job, but it’s much more painful. This is how I learned about raspberries.
Don’t pet bumble bees. They are furry and cute but they will sting — and it will hurt. Betrayal hurts. Sometimes folks just don’t play fair.
Ponies really will break into a wild run when they get close to the barn at the end of a journey they didn’t want to take. If you are tall, be careful riding through the barn door. There is wisdom in planning ahead.
Barn cats will teach a thing or two. Never bite the hand that feeds you if you hope to be fed again. In luring a barn cat, patience is required. Sometimes we must feign indifference before they wind around our legs. But even then, they may leave us once they have what they want. Some people can be that way. There is, however, the possibility that our endurance will be rewarded by a lingering friendship if our tolerance extends far enough. We may affect their life. They may affect ours. There in lies the sweetness of it all.
Please leave a comment! I’d love to hear from you.
March 25, 2014 at 9:28 am
I grew up on a poultry farm and worked too– yes lots of life lessons from farming as well as family values. Fun stories!
March 26, 2014 at 7:38 am
So glad you enjoyed. I’ve been contemplating keeping a couple of chickens even though we live in an urban area. It would be a future undertaking. There is a family a few blocks away does this quite successfully so I am assuming the town bylaws permit it.
March 25, 2014 at 10:41 am
I didn’t grow up on a farm but I lived in farm country. Everything you mentioned I have done as well. It is probably why I am allergic to bee’s today. The kids in the neighborhood and I played at the local farm down the street for years. The owner would let us kids run all over the barn. Why would anyone do that. We were bad kids. ha
March 26, 2014 at 7:48 am
I am connecting to your question — why would anyone let us run around a barn. We definitely have a different risk tolerance these days. Some would say that because our generation was allowed to explore this type of play and experience trial & error, we developed an understanding of how far to take things without being injured. Some would say that. Others would say it is a miracle that we all made it home for dinner alive:)
March 26, 2014 at 9:48 pm
Gwen, I enjoyed reading this post and felt many connections to my own wild childhood on our ‘farm’, which included riding motorbikes (not always with helmets), experimenting with dairy chemicals without adult supervision (I did go on to complete a chemistry degree but I also earned a very sore backside when busted by an adult in the farm shed), helping my Dad to remove the honey-comb from our beehives, throwing the perfect cow pat at my brother and cousins (light crust on top but still soft underneath), disappearing up the river for hours at a time exploring the forest and swimming without an adult in sight, watching the hay barn python eat rats, raising calves on bottled milk and feeling the thrill when they sucked on my fingers, etc. I too enjoyed/was horrified by watching calves being born – enjoyed when the birth was seamless because those calves are so shiny and gorgeous, but horrified when the birth was breached and my nurse/aunt had to assist the birth.
When I take my own children to visit my parents farm now I follow them at all times, watching like a hawk because I know very well what the dangers are! However I feel bad that I’m restricting their enjoyment of unrestricted play in the wild.
I like the way that you drew parallels to adult life.
March 27, 2014 at 6:59 am
I so enjoyed reading your comment. Now I understand where your sense of adventure comes from:) In my mind, I’m laying your children’s story of your family’s travel adventures over your story of the farm adventures and imagining what their nostalgic reminiscing might be. Oh, the stories they’ll tell. Such lucky children!