Hobby Farms Forums / Hobby Farms Discussions / HobbyFarms.com Forum Topics / Memorable Stories from the Farm / Latest Posts

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

ciscos mama — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 19:53:15 GMT

Great stories! I'm new to having a hobby farm,

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 11:45:40 GMT

When I was four and my brother was 8 our Great Grandfather convinced us boys that if gave chocolate to the Jersey cow my Grandparents had, it would give us chocolate milk. Well if you know me at all, you know I love chocolate milk and back then I loved it even more!

So my brother and I found a Hersey Chocolate bar, but that Jersey cow did not want anything to do with eating it. We tried putting it in hay, we tried putting molasses on it, and we even tried sneaking it in grain. Still she refused all our attempts to take the chocolate bar. So we resorted to plan B and crammed it down that cows throat as we held her in a bridle.

With the halter on, we decided that in order to get the chocolate to mix with the milk, we had better mix it up a bit. So we led that Jersey cow...lead by a 4 and 8 year old mind you and tried to jog her around the pasture. That went over about as good as the chocolate eating bit. I am sure my Great Grandfather watched us from the kitchen laughing in hysterics.

Later that night we were some depressed when only white milk came out of her...you see no matter how much chocolate you give a Jersey, they don't give you chocolate milk. Never tried it with a Holstein though! :-)

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Farmermom — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 11:34:04 GMT

Then there is the day he & the grandson were out riding bikes (or in the case of the grand a trike) and I stepped in the house for about 2 minutes to pour & fix a fresh cup of coffee and went I went back out they were at the top of the hill in the middle of the driveway getting ready for launch literally, the son had propped a board on the trunk of my car and was about to pull an Evel Knievel with my car parked right in front of a 5 ft drop off. As I saw what he was up to and yelled "Don't you even think about it" he stopped looked at me and asked "WHY?" he was 7 at the time. Until he was 8 we were on a first name basis with the local ER, and the worst part is now that he's 17 we're back to the accident looking for a place to happen phase again.

People often ask me why most things that would make most people come unhinged are an oh well S*** happens deal with me, and I can laugh at stuff like that after the fact. Alot of what others consider memorable stories are daily life around here

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

tonyb — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 08:03:40 GMT

Hey Farmermom,

That snowball through the window story reminds me of something stupid I did when I was a kid (doing stupid things was not all that uncommon with me).

One day during the summer when I was about 12 or so, my best friend came by to hang out. His cousin was visiting, so she had tagged along with him, which is the reason things started to unravel that day.

Being a show off in front of his cousin, I devised a game to see who could throw apples against the barn and smash them to smithereens the best. Just as we were finishing up, I found a great big apple and threw the infamous 'last one' at the barn, and right through a glass pane window it went. We ran into the barn to survey the damage, and there in one of the horse stalls lay the apple, cut in half clean as a whistle.

I was frantic, but trying to hide it in front of my friend's cousin. My dad was a truck repairman and had the biggest, strongest fists I'd ever seen, like hooves on a bull moose. When he laid down the law, well he really laid it down. So, after removing the "evidence" I cooked up a fool proof story. When my dad got home and saw what had happened, I confidently told him "It was just an accident Dad. The lawn mower threw a rock and broke the window."

Ha! Victory is mine! Until my dad replied "Oh yeah, then how come the lawn's not cut?" That slight oversight got me a tanned hide and saw me thrown in the clink with no more friends' visits for a week or so.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 00:23:08 GMT

You never want your children to be spaced 4 years apart...especially two boys because the ages just aren't right.

When I was like 6, that meant my brother was 10 and he hated me. We were playing down by our farm pond and it was Spring with the ice just starting to break up. There were these big cakes of ice floating and my all knowing brother convinced me to ride on one.

So I did. Brother knows best right?

Well I slipped off and down under the ice I went. When I came back up I was trapped under the ice and couldn't get out. My brother was kind enough to run for a sapling pole though and finally shoved the cake of ice from above me and then hauled me out as I grabbed the pole.

Knowing better then to tell mom, and darn near dead from the freezing cold water, we ran up to the chicken house and was huddling under the heat lamps where the chicks were drying to warm up and dry out. I was almost alive again when I heard my father come up the chicken house stairs about ready to feed up the chickens.

He laughed his hiney off at us, but my mother, oh she was not impressed when she found out how close she came to burying her youngest son!

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Farmermom — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 18:39:59 GMT

When my son was about 6 dad was plowing the driveway one afternoon after he had most of the rest of his driveways done & it was a really wet sticky snow - perfect snowball snow - and we were out here in the yard having a snowball fight when dad stopped to ask me a question which it turned out was a big mistake on his part LOL he always plowed with his window open (the defroster in the truck wasn't that good) and just as he stopped the son let loose with his snowball, it flew right past me & thru the open window of the truck hitting dad right square in the side of the head. The kid was so upset that to show him that he wasn't mad at him dad took him with him to finish his last few driveways, but dad laughed about the snowball thru the window right up until he died.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 03:29:40 GMT

Another time I was plowing and came around the corner and saw my Mom had hit a telephone pole and crashed her car. I stopped to make sure she was alright and soon the police and everyone else was there.

This was the same winter so I did not have a license or anything. My Mom was fine, so I waited for the police officer to leave. He was waiting to see who was driving the truck.

I waited. He Waited. I waited and he waited. Finally my patience must have run out because he left shaking his head. He knew I was not big enough to be legally driving such a big plow truck.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Sun, 20 Dec 2009 03:26:54 GMT

For 40 years my Grandfather had the plowing and sanding contract in town, and growing up we used to help him fulfill his contract. Welll growing up we were never rich so we had some ratty equipment, in particular the plow trucks because they were used for one job and its not like a cop is going to pull you over on a snowy day as you are doing the townspeople a favor.

Or so I thought.

One day when I was 15 years old, I came up through town, turned off the state highway and saw a cop behind me. No big deal, I dropped my plow and wing and started rolling snow out of the road. I had only gone 100 feet when the blue lights came on. I stopped as the Deputy Sheriff came running up on the running board of the truck and asked for my licence, proof of insurance, registration and inspection sticker. I gave hime everything I had...a smile because it was all I had.

I was only 15 so I did not have a license to even drive a car, much less a full sized plow truck. The truck was not registered, inspected and we had no insurance on it. He just shook his head and said, "let's go see your grandfather". I was about to put it in gear and go, but was not sure what to do, so I yelled back at him.

"Do you want me to plow on the way their or not?"

"Well you !@#$%^ minds well now", he said all bent in the head about it. I did plow a road to the house and ultimately my Grandfather got pinched for "allowing to operate a defective commercial truck", but that was it. A half hour after the deputy left my Grandfather yelled at me to go back out and finish plowing...and I did.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

tonyb — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 20:27:27 GMT

We have not been on our farm very long, only a couple of years. When we were going through the whole purchasing process, I thought I was Mr. Savvy Real-Estate Speculator, and not wanting to leave any stone unturned I had arranged for a well and septic inspection, which of course included a septic tank cleanout so it could be inspected fully (or emptily, as it were). The inspector showed up and started probing the ground in search of the drain field. Then the cleanout crew showed up and they started probing too. It was taking forever, so one of them finally called the Environmental Health Inspector. All I heard was "Uh-huh...yeah...Really? You're kidding. OK....Bye. ALRIGHT GUYS, YOU CAN STOP LOOKING!"

What's this? Turns out, the house didn't have a septic field, or a tank... They had a 20 gallon ceramic crock buried in the ground and the overflow pipe emptied into the ditch in front of the house. We all got a real "visceral" feel for just what this meant the day my brother Craig and I were doing fence work down wind of the drain pipe while my dad fixed a leak on the toilet. Dad flushed the toilet about twelve hundred times to test his fix. Well, after about ten minutes of Craig and I each secretly wondering just what on earth the other guy had been eating, one of us finally said "What is that stench?! Do you need a doctor?" Unbeknownst to us, all that flushing had stirred up an unspeakable horror. Dad really enjoyed that one.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

GGTW21 — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 11:25:51 GMT

Ok this happened 15 years ago so some details might be fuzzy, my grandfather (dads side) was bailing hay on a mild summer afternoon, with my grandfather (moms side) driving the pickup truch we used to haul it to the barn, now my dad and cousin were loading the truck and I was on top of the stack well... stacking it as they threw it up to me. We almost had a full load and we were going for just one more level of bails, my grandfather(moms side) had a little bit of a lead foot and we were going uphill with the load.....he hit the gas just a wee bit too hard and I lost my footing(I was on all fours at the time) asI rolled off the edge of the stack Ireached out and grabbed a bail to stop myself....bad idea. A 12 foot drop later in which I nailed both my dads and cousins knees on the way down and had said bail land on me, I was in pain and had the breath knocked out of me. After lying there for the few seconds it took me to realize two very important things, one being I was still alive, and the other being that I hadn't broken anything I rolled out from under the hay bail and sat on it and for some odd reason I let out an OY! My dad was yelling at my grandfather to stop and turn around to pick me back up and learning that I hurt my dad and cousins knees more than they had hurt me and being asked if I was ok and then being asked what OY meant. Needless to say that was my last truckload of the evening as my grandmother(dads side) wanted to check me out and make sure I was REALLY alright.(wouldn't know it till years later that I have a nervous system disorder that pretty much turns off the pain recepters in my body) We all still laugh at it years later.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 06:03:29 GMT

Loved the mower one.

That reminds me when I was at Rod's Gorcery (down south in Louisiana). The cashier was laughing her head off as I was checking out. The entire day she saw the man across the highway enjoying a beer or two and cutting grass. Well the driver was running out of both and crossed the highway to fill up the mower and get another 12 pk and the state trooper who was catching speeders pulled him over on the lawnmower and gave him a DWI ticket because he crossed the highway on the lawnmower with an empty beer can in his hands. Needless to say I missed all the action while shopping for food.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

greying2 — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 02:37:33 GMT

Many years ago I was closing off one door and making a opening for a new door to my utility room (laundry room for some people) and was aided in this project by my 3 year old son. I had been telling a 3 year old about plumb, square and level when he would ask what was I doing. My brother and sister-in-law stopped by for a visit and while they were there my son brought the 4 foot level into the the living room and was laying it at different angles on the floor when my brother asked him if the floor was level and without missing a beat he said "no but its close". Now everyone in the family laughs about my carpentry skills.

Just another one of those examples of what not to say in front of your kids for you will never know when it will come back to you.

Joseph

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

greying2 — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 02:17:05 GMT

I must be really old school in a lot of my ways. I am one of those people who just had rather repair as opposed to buying another anything if possible.

Several years ago I had used my riding mower for so many years that I just knew that there was not another season in it so I did not even put it in the dry for the winter. When the next mowing season arrived I went out to the old mower and it started right up and I thought well maybe it will last for a couple of mowings. Mowed with it all summmer and again gave up hopes for another year. This yearly ritual lasted for another 3 years. The old mower just would not die but it sure looked like it was dead. One day a man stopped by the place and said he was there to pick up the mower. I told him that there must be some sort of mistake because I only have the one mower. He said he was sorry for the mistake but he had read in the local swapper (monthly want ad pamlet) that someone had a mower that may have some usable parts - free for the taking- and he just assumed that my mower had to be the one because of the way mine looked. We enjoyed a good laugh and when the mower finally died I gave him a call and he came and picked it up -free for the taking.

Joseph

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 12:45:05 GMT

Before my dad broke his back he use to hunt A LOT. Well when the men were off hunting the ladies would not go up to the camp until the weekend. I can remember the Black Widow (1974 Custom, F150 bucket seat truck of my mom's) would be the vehicle that the men would look out for. She would bring them fried chicken and the sides so they would not have to eat "Surprise Soup" for at least one day of the week.

Know mind you, you had to pass the junk yard with the MEAN dogs but for some odd reason when they saw mom's truck go by they did not give her any problems. By now you should have figured out who got the bones...LOL...

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 07:59:45 GMT

Sounds like me Cweick...I tell all the guys that date my older daughter "I got a shotgun, a shovel and five acres Pal, if she comes back crying...or pregnant, you will see all three of them."

Of course it is all a lie. I would never shovel...not when the Atlantic is so close. No shoveling required to get rid of a dead body! (LOL)

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 07:52:53 GMT

I brought home my first boyfriend to my parent's house. Dad was in the living room cleaning his shot gun. He asked the boy to look down the barrel to see if it was loaded and he did. Dad looked up and told me quite frank...through that one back, if he doesn't have enough sense now he'll never make much when he gets out of school. Needless to say that was the last date I had with him and to come to find out he isn't much now...LOL...

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 14:37:13 GMT

When I was 15 or so, I got the courage up to ask my Uncle if he could show me how to cut wood. At the time I was just starting to log, use the chainsaw, etc. To my surprise he said he would be glad to show me.

Our farm is located about 20 minutes North of Belfast, Maine, but due to some family that owned land down there generations ago, we still own land there, not a lot of acreage, but enough to log. Its actually a pretty cool spot since it has a natural cranberry bog on it, but next to it is Maine's second biggest road. You see in Maine there is two roads...I-95 and Route 1 and this was Route One. It also has a big sub-station next to it which supplies all the power from the main grid to the CITY of Belfast.

Of course my Uncle was with his nephew so he had to cut the biggest trees on the property. These were Maine's big White Pines. We did pretty good on a bunch of trees, but just before diner my Uncle decides to cut a tree next to the highway. He makes the notch, then the back cut and the tree leaned back on him. No Big deal we got a bulldozer. So he grabs that and the tree snaps off the stump and over it goes...backwards.

So there the tree was, spread out across the south bound lane of route one with all kinds of wires down. Before we could even start to saw the tree out of the road, the police, fire trucks, power company and the emergency management agency all showed up. Apparently, since the sub-station to the city was just behind us, our wayward tree had put the ENTIRE city in the dark...

The fire dept, the police department, and even the hospital was on emergency power....

So some supervisor of the power company starts yelling at my Uncle saying how much this was going to cost us and this and that, really yelling and making a big scene of it. My Uncle...a typical Mainer who is more calm and frank then one to get upset, simply says, "Do you remember when you guys built on to your substation and went across the property line. I don't care how much it costs us to repair these wires, it's going to cost twice that for building onto our land without permission."

The power company guy got all quiet and said, "We all make mistakes don't we Mr. Drawbar?" and we never did get a bill for that little mistake. (It even was in the local paper).

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 11:05:38 GMT

On our first go around with pumpkins, we plant and Ma-Maw said we planted them on the wrong side of the moon and of course she was right out of a pound of seeds we got 1 pumpkin. So the next time we went to the co-op to get seeds P2 (4 at the time) ran up to the clerk and asked what side of the moon we needed to plants these seeds for a better crop and all they could do was point at the almanac.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 12:30:09 GMT

My Mother was always a homemaker, and a fine one she made I must say. But that being the case, she liked to keep all us kids in line and did that then, as she does now, in a rather controlling sort of way. Now the word "control" is the key to this whole story.

Well 33 years ago, just as we do know, to get a cow out of its stall and into the milking parlor, we kick it a little, and say "Come on girl, get up, get going", since 99% of the animals on the farm are girls.

Now back when I was two and just learning to talk, I was always around the farm, and some of the first words I picked up were, "Come on girl, get up, get going." Now when I did this to my mother...a very controlling mother mind you, which bothered her to no end. You just had to picture it, some toddler kicking his mother in the shin saying, "Come on girl, get up, get going", everytime I wanted a cookie or glass of milk! (LOL)

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

HFfriend — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 11:35:30 GMT

Your stories from the farm have been great! If you have a story that involves a holiday tradition, consider submitting an entry for our Holiday Traditions Contest. If the Hobby Farm editors select your entry as their favorite, you can win your favorite Popular Farming magazines, a copy of Hobby Farm: Living Your Rural Dream for Pleasure and Profit, and a subscription to your choice of Hobby Farms or Hobby Farms Home magazine.

You can enter here: http://www.hobbyfarms.com/farms-contest/Holiday_Traditions_contest.aspx

Thanks!
The Hobby Farms team

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 07:42:44 GMT

My mom would talk about the Nuns at the Catholic School in New Orleans. I still can hear the wooden ruler with across the knuckles. But like she says she turned out better than others. They would also have her hold her arms out long ways and add dictionaries, she would laugh at this one and say it made it eaiser for her to carry the sacks of animals feed and the milk.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 02:51:12 GMT

Belt huh, we got the axe handle or a section of garden hose...now that stung, but my Grandfather said that was light punishment, he got horsewhipped.

Interestingly I got a book my Great Uncle² wrote and in the 1840's he was a school teacher up in downeast Maine. He said at the time the littlest infraction meant the kids were horse whipped by the schoolmaster. It was not a method he liked and so he changed it. He used positive reinforcement and had the kids sign church hymns instead. The parents actually preferred the beatings and complained to the regional schoolmaster who observed his teaching style. The man was so swayed at how this "new" form of punishment worked, he had it implemented all across downeast Maine.

For what it was worth, my Great Uncle got paid 8 bushels of oats for a 2 month school year.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

hideunderarock — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 14:46:45 GMT

ha ha, I understand my father-in-law took the door off my wife's room when she slammed it one to many times.

naw, Dad had a belt and I'm glad he did. To this day, the sound of a belt whipping threw loops makes me wonder what I did. ha ha.. he didn't use it much

BUT when he was working away from home and mother was ticked, she's hag Dad's belt on the door knob..and we'd fly right till she chilled out and put it back.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 12:44:09 GMT

For heaven to bessy DON'T slam the back door. I remimber getting my hand tied to that knob and had to open and shut it for what it seemed like a day. My parents were the best of finding what you were afraid of and using it no belts needed.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

hideunderarock — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 08:38:27 GMT

ohh how cruel---------
some folks in my life think spanking is mean. I recall cutting all the fence rows with an old set of hedge clippers at a young age for some infraction.

If it isn't broke don't fix it... some of those old ways worked fine.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 07:16:59 GMT

It's like saying the "B" (board) word around Pop. He would reach over and give you a shovel and tell you to start at the far end of one pasture and cut the cypress weeds down or if the thistles were up you had to dig the bulb out of the ground.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

hideunderarock — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 06:24:08 GMT

yep farms are very very dangerous places. Everyone I know can tell you a story about the one that almost got 'em. But it was a dance in the park, who would want to do it?

When I was 10, I'd been drag'n corn fields for 2 years. Once you learned that was a tool for work, you didn't go to close to it out of the fear Dad would find something for you to do.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Farmermom — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 18:18:34 GMT

Everybody needs a kid like Tony A year ago this past June he went with a friend to head to the local skate board park they were gone about an hour to an hour & a half when he came walking thru mom's door roadrash from head to toe (and I do mean that literally) he had been going down a hill on his skate board and got going faster than the board and took a header skidding down the road at top speed, he scraped off half his face, right arm from the shoulder to wrist, his right side, and right leg from hip to ankle. When we asked him what happened he looked at us like we had 3 heads and said I fell but I'm alright I just sprained my wrist.

In August that same summer he was riding his bike up town and decided to cross the road & get on the sidewalk instead of crossing an intersection where cars are known for blowing the stop sign because he didn't want to take a chance on getting hit, He checked for traffic in the direction he was heading and hung a left - right in front of a car! Fortunately the car was going slow but couldn't stop in time. He bounced off the hood and landed on his butt on the road and the driver said it was just like watching a jack-in-the-box the second his butt hit the pavement he bounced right back to his feet and told the guy not to worry he wasn't hurt. The driver insisted on calling the police and having him checked out so I got a call from Tony telling me he'd been in an accident but not to panic he wasn't hurt. When I got there he said he was Ok he had just sprained his wrist.

Well afew weeks later he was getting ready for school and was rushing so he wouldn't miss the bus and tripped over his boot laces and fell well this time the sprained wrist hurt so bad he was almost in tears and decided he guessed he wouldn't fight me about getting it checked out like he had the other 2 times. He ended up in Dec having surgery to have a pin put in and a bone graft to repair where he had broken it 3 times ! So much for spraining his wrist.

This is my accident looking for a place to happen and he can usually find a place

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Farmermom — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 18:01:05 GMT

10 or 11 yrs ago when Tony was 6 or 7 he discovered Grandfather's tractor started with a screwdriver, He only got about 10 feet before Dad caught him but he learned after that when he shut down the tractor he put the screwdriver in his toolbox & made sure the box was locked

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Williams — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 16:39:29 GMT

Reminds me of the afternoon almost ten years ago when we had been hauling firewood down off the mountain and stacking it in the lean-to just up slope from the chicken house. Husband and I were taking a breather and toddler son was playing around in the cab of the truck. I know you can see it coming . . .

In slow motion the truck began rolling forward. Slowwwly, slowwwly, picking up a bit of speed. Husband and I jumped off our stumps and ran toward it - everything in slow motion it seemed. Until . . . BANG!! . . . the truck executed a slow motion crash right into the chicken house.

If the wheels had been cut even a bit to the right or left, the truck would have missed the coop and headed steeply downhill to the creek. Son thought it was a great ride - Dad and I aged ten years right on the spot. Son just smiled big and kept saying, Truck Boom! Truck Boom!

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 08:05:22 GMT

P2 was 3 at the time and we had a GOOD hay season that year and Pa-Pa had a lot to sell extra. I'd left the blue tractor running while I went to get a pair of gloves. My heart skipped several beats when I saw P2 take off to the tractor and pulling himself up to drive the tractor "By My-Self". Thank God he could not reach the petals or he would of been down the drive way to load hay, beacuse Mommy was to slow...looking back it's funny but at that moment I could not breath.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 02:35:57 GMT

Oh and I am not trying to out-do or compete...just trying to entertain as I am a natural story teller.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 02:35:09 GMT

You were lucky Tiffle...with sheep they all flock together so that when one sheep gets loose; they all get loose. But when they go back in, you can bet a winning powerball ticket on the fact that sheep will NEVER go back in the same hole in the fence they made!

(As a side note here: one thing I do is leave a set of written instructions in the barn next to my toolbox of fencing tools and supplies. These instructions tell how to turn on and off the fence charger, how to repair the fence, and has the tools right there. I am home 99% of the time, but if I am not, then if I ever get the call that says "your sheep are out", and they are interested in getting the sheep back in because I can't get their fast, I can tell them where to go to get all the info and tools needed to help me out...just a tip here)

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 11:44:08 GMT

Well while P2 and I were in the trench a story kept coming to mind.

P2 was 4 at this time, he wanted his own mustard green patch and then hurrican "K" came a long. I just so happended to find some seeds in a closet (it was an act of GOD). I gave him the open bag of seeds and out he went, his first attempt at planting "By My-Self." The crop was huge in his eyes. He did not grumble not one time helping me pick the (12) 5 gallon buckets of mustard greens that grew that year. He got into the water with me and cleaned them with out any problems. He helped me pull the stems off the old leaves and cut up the onions and the garlic. Soon we set a cooking. I can still see him standing next to me in his red rubber boots asking a million questions and trying to stir the pot. We cooked and cooked and then he wanted to eat some. So I pulled out a bowl and fixed them, he sat in his chair with fork and knife in hand and took one BIG bite. His eye lite up and then he told me this was to much work for something that tasted like (you fill in the blank here). I started laughing at him because I could understand where he was coming from because I don't eat them that often, too.

That was 4 years ago and now he's growing into a young man. I don't want to rush things, but this day in age it is.

But as I type this I see it all in my mind and yes we still plant mustard greens because the rest of the family eats it except my Hubby.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 04:14:47 GMT

Hold on guys...you actually think us bigger farmers know what we are doing? No way!

We farm by experience, but here is the thing, often times the way we farm is based on something our grandfather told us, which was something his grandfather did, and the reality is, it all started because of some stupid oddity that occurred which started the "tradition".

We have no idea what we are DOING, we simply are doing what we DID in the past. The better farmers try and do new things and but we have no idea how that will work out. In fact you should have seen all the goofy things we tried to reduce fuel consumption back when the price of fuel was incredibly high. Some worked out, some did not...but the key thing is...we tried and ultimately will be better farmers for it.

My Great Grandfather² once tried his hand at silk farming. He had the silk worms shipped up from down south and everything...only to realize that Maine's cold winters were too much for the silk worms. That was in the year 1800 so you can see farming and failure often go together.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

CathyW — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 03:51:17 GMT

I agree wholeheartedly Theona - I stopped bothering trying to look like I know what I am doing - and I'm just thankful when things DO work out as I have them planned in my mind If I have learned one thing with my farming attempt it's that PhD or no I'll be learning for my lifetime. Not that I mind...that's half the fun...I just wish there were more hours in the day.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Theona — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 19:11:02 GMT

Oh I am having some good laughs! It is really therapy for me, since moving to this farm two and a half years ago and trying not to look like we don't know what we are doing, which we pretty much don't. You wouldn't believe some of the goofy things we have done. It is nice to know we aren't the only ones.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 15:17:54 GMT

My Great Grandfather was a pretty shrewd business man and I have heard that at the height of his farming operations, he would have 17 teams of horses going in all directions in order to keep the potato farm going. To maintain that sort of farming level he had to turn a nickel into a quarter anywhere and everywhere he could.

So when he got a deal on these dyed seed potatoes that could only be used for a test plot, he jumped at the chance as the price was low. But in the fall when the potatoes were grown, well he sold them as food. He did pretty good until the potato inspector saw this and was less then impressed. In fact he took him to court.

Now back then this was a huge crime, like selling tainted milk or buying off-road diesel fuel for your pick up truck. He had to hire a bunch of lawyers and endured months and months of legal ramblings. In the end though he got himself out of the jam. The judge looked at him and said, "Fred is this your signature on the dyed seed potato purchase order?" My Great Grandfather took the sales slip, pulled his glasses out of his pocket and looked the paper all over as if it was holyier then the bible itself. When he got down he handed it back to the judge and said...

"Well it is kind of hard to say isn't it, all X's look the same don't they?"

My Great Grandfather could not read or write and signed everything with an X and thus the state could never make the tax evasion charges stick. (LOL)

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

cweick — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 09:29:18 GMT

I was in the storeroom mixing chicken feed and Patrick went a screaming. I thought that dog was back. But there he was just a shacking and I asked him what was the matter. He told me someone came in the middle of the night and took our faucet. He forgot that we moved it and added another one..LOL...I had to point them out to him and he hit his head with his hand and said oh we finished that job yesterday.

RE: Memorable Stories from the Farm

Drawbar — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 14:30:22 GMT

My Great Uncle one time was headed over to Unity and as he went by The Hungry Horse Farm (our name for the place, not theirs for obvious reasons) this guy was standing out in the roadway with a set of booster cables obviously looking for a jump. My Great Uncle stopped in, gave the man a boost, and went on his way.

Well the next day the guy was out beside the road again, booster cables in hand looking for a boost. My Great Uncle stopped again and this time told him just what he thought. "I gave you a jump yesterday, why weren't you smart enough to go and buy yourself a battery so that you don't have to be bumping boosts off the public." Well the guy didn't like that much but he didn't say anything...until the next day when my Great Uncle drove by and the guy gave him the finger.

This did not impress my Great Uncle too much who had a reputation of not being messed with.

So my Great Uncle saw him one day in the hardware store and never said a word, just pulled back and punched him right square in the chin. He went down like a deck of cards right there in the store.

Later he pressed charges so my great Uncle went to court and the judge asked my Great Uncle what happened. He told him just what went down and the judge said, "be that as it may, you are hereby required to pay a 50 dollar fine".

"Well if I knew it was only going to be $50 bucks I would have hit the SOB again," he said.

I spent the weekend milking his 50 cows while he sat in jail for contempt of court!