Children are a great comfort in your old age—and they help you reach it faster too.
This morning my 11-year-old son Brian wanted to take his hockey stick to school because everybody else has theirs there. There are several drawbacks. Number one is that he doesn’t actually have one yet. He thinks we have one hidden away somewhere for his Christmas gift. The number two problem is that the pond isn’t even frozen hard enough to play hockey yet. Oh, but everyone else has sticks there just in case! It seems so silly to us, but I remember how it used to be in school. It seemed we were always the “duh” ones. The sad part is that ugly peer pressure doesn’t quit once you are out of school. However, I do believe as we get older and mature, we are able to pass it off better—if we choose to. I wonder how many of our adult pressures look as silly to God as our children’s pressures look to us?
Right now I’ve got three little ones having a blast in the living room. They have their coats and scarves on and are pretending to be going to the fair. They have no idea what a fair is like, but they are having a blast. The living room pretty well looks like a fair too—imagine a hog pen. But the children aren’t crying, and they are able to run, and jump, and play. We’ll clean up later. These are the good days—busy and full of challenges, but we’re all home, all able to help each other, and all able to enjoy each other.
Life on our farm was pretty well boring until the other morning when Wayne wanted a cow in the head gate.* [Definitions and explanations of words with *s after them can be found in the glossary at the end of this book. ] Not being a die-hard morning person, I do not relish such endeavors. The cow decided it was not necessary to be forced into a place she did not long to be. I was appointed to stand in a little alleyway that leads to the motor room.* The cow was to go in exactly the opposite direction. She got downright evil as she came toward me and decided I was nothing to fear. She politely shoved me along, not worrying about the consequences she faced or where she was actually headed. She shoved me into the diesel room. I couldn’t open the door to head on out because the door swings in, and she had me against the door. The room was dark, and she couldn’t see. She promptly turned south on the motor block. She went clear to the end. Glass, pipes, bolts—you name it—were flying all over the place. I bailed out as soon as I could, sure that my husband wasn’t happy with me. It was very icy at the time, so I slipped around outside a while, wondering how I’d gotten myself into this fix—now with another bill to pay with having ruined the motor. What if we can’t even get it fixed today yet? I sure wish I could be anywhere but here.
But calmness took over Wayne, who was now getting the cow off of everything and assessing the damage done.
Shakily, I started picking up pieces and apologizing, wanting to say sorry and how worthless I really am a hundred times. I stuck with just a couple times because I knew that didn’t impress him either. Luckily, Wayne can fix almost everything by himself, and no, the motor did not need to be replaced. He tried getting the cow in later that day by himself, but he finally gave up. We’ll try some other time.
Too bad nobody is dropping in to do my mending. That’s a job I push off way too long. Our everyday attire is pretty well rags. I need to sew myself new dresses. Then I’ll wear what I have for good now as everyday ones. I always have a hard time throwing away old, worn-out clothing. I’m known to recycle other people’s clothing that doesn’t fit anymore. I make little-girl dresses for my young daughters and pants for two-year-old Jesse. I’ve even made a quilt from dresses. I get a lot more use out of them than I would leaving unused clothes hanging in the closet.
A couple weeks ago I went on an all-day Goodwill shopping trip. It was a treat because I had not gone for probably seven years. Wayne and I aren’t anti shopping, but we don’t endorse it either. Anyway, I enjoyed the day with neighbor ladies and got good deals on sweatshirts, boots, scarves, pillows, and such. The children had been hoping for some toys but were excited with the clothing and things I got.
Wayne was milking when I got home. The children were all excited to see me and the things I bought. I should’ve run for the barn to help Wayne. I should’ve held the little ones. I should’ve visited with the older ones. That is one big reason I do not go away a lot—because I cannot handle being torn apart like that. Where is my presence needed the most? In what direction should I fly? It is so much more peaceful if I just stay at home.
I have three eager, smiling little faces right around the typewriter wanting to watch me. The children are full of questions and threatening to punch some buttons. Lunch will be ready in about 10 minutes, and then comes nap time, which means peace and quiet for me for quite a while. By the end of this sentence, they’re already going their own way and playing nicely. Well, there’s Jesse. He’s content by himself as he’s throwing my extra papers on the floor. I intervene when he picks up a little glass bowl to pitch to the floor from the chair he’s standing on. Now he went to visit his grandma, who lives next door. Now he’s back again. He is the pure definition of “busy.”
Jesse is surprising me by showing a real interest in going to the bathroom. Potty training is not one of my favorite jobs in parenting. Makes it nice when they actually want to. One of the first benefits little ones discover once they are out of diapers is that while sitting in church, if they decide they need a change of scenery, all they have to do is say, “I have to go potty!”
This forenoon, Wayne, the little ones, and I went to our community’s private school a while. That is so inspiring to me. I wish I would take the time to go more often. Oh, to be filled with such youthful energy and eagerness! We have nine little first-grade girls (no boys) who brighten up that classroom as only sweet little first-graders can. With now being able to read, their little worlds are being opened up to so many fascinating new things. They were fun to watch. One wanted to show me that she lost one front tooth and the other one was loose!
With the first half of January being so warm and rainy we’ve, of course, had to deal with major mud here on our heavy-clay-soil farm. With that major mud comes the inability to haul manure, which causes a major messy barnyard. What can we do about it? Be patient and wait for it to freeze over or dry out, whichever one comes first. Remember, being patient means not complaining.
Last December we started a new venture in our farming business. We started milking three times a day. Actually, I should say Wayne does and I help. We milk in the morning at 5:30, Wayne milks in the afternoon at 1:30, and then we milk in the evening at 9:30. The first week and a half were rough going for me. My long, fixed schedule had changed and I, being a person who thrives on routine, had to adjust my patterns of doing things. I do see, though, that it has been very successful, and I am willing to continue on in this manner. There are definitely some drawbacks we have to swallow, but so far the good changes have outweighed the bad. The cows have responded far better than we had dared hope. I think this is less stressful than if Wayne would have gotten an off-farm job.
On my kitchen windowsill I have a spring flower bulb partially submerged in water. The teachers gave it to us for Christmas. It’s taking a long time to bloom but giving us hope nonetheless. I’m looking forward to the day it will give us blooms. This morning I broke the original glass vase it was in, and some of the root system was broken off. Hopefully it didn’t do too much damage. I’m also eager to start all my tomato seeds. I’d like to start four varieties of non-acid plants along with the regular canning varieties.
We’ve butchered one beef for ourselves so far this winter. We want to do one more and also two small pigs. You’re asking why so many? We just do younger, smaller beef and pigs, which gives us lean, quality meat.
With the one cow we butchered, I just canned chunks, and the rest was ground and put into the freezer. For the chunks, we put it through the large-blade grinder once, put it into cans (canning jars), added a teaspoon of salt, and pressure cooked it for 40 minutes at 10 pounds pressure. I like to use this canned meat for barbeque beef, beef stew, and beef and noodles. I’d love to use it for vegetable soup too, but I can’t convince my family that’s something they want to eat.
I will can fried steak and gravy, beef bologna, and more chunks when we butcher the next one. I put the bologna through the grinder at least three times after being mixed with seasonings for a much better tasting bologna with firmer texture. It doesn’t taste so salty. The men like to doubt me, but it is a proven fact. I think I have convinced them all by now.
I look forward to having canned sausage links for breakfast too, and we make our own brats. These are all jobs I do not look forward to, but then it is so satisfying once we have fresh, good meat again. Praise the Lord for these precious blessings. We are blessed indeed.
For a year now I have been working on improving my overall health—changing my eating habits, drinking more water, and getting body and mind refreshing exercise. I still have not conquered all my bad eating habits. That’s probably something I will have to work at the rest of my life.
This forenoon I decided to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies so the children have something to snack on. Like usual, Jesse had to be at the counter helping me. I turned my back to put trash in the wastebasket. Quickly he got an egg, cracked it open, and, surprisingly, got most of it into the batter bowl! The rest ended up on the front of the cupboard and on the floor. Whew, could have been worse.