Pansy

Our cow Jenny was getting too old to keep our family in milk so Daddy visited some of the area dairies to see if someone would have a friendly little Jersey they would be willing to sell. When he came home he was happy to have found someone who said they had just the cow for us. Gentle, sweet disposition and a great milker who would be sure to provide all the milk we could possibly have use for. He had paid for her and they would deliver her free of charge sometime the following day.

The next forenoon John, David and I were playing outside when we saw the man come with the cow and unloading her in our pasture. We ran inside to tell Mom about it. She came outside as the man went on his way. We joined Mom to go to the pasture to have a look at our new cow. When we got close to her we saw why they wanted to sell her. Not only did she look older and more worn out than Jenny but her udder was practically dragging on the ground.

Daddy had gone to a lumber kiln to get more lumber for our woodworking shop and we knew he would be disappointed once he saw the cow the farmer had tried to give us. Once he came home and we told him about it we all went back outside to have another look at the cow. As we expected Daddy wasn't happy. There wasn't much we could do about it though and the cow obviously needed to be milked. He asked us to bring the milk pail and a cake pan. I ran to the house to get what he needed wondering what he would use a cake pan for.

After giving it to Daddy, he slid the cake pan under her udder and started milking. It was a slow process of sliding the cake pan in and milking a little bit until the pan was full then emptying it into the milk pail. After chores were done Daddy went to the pay phone at the corner store in the village and called a cattle dealer and told him we have a cow to sell and that we want a good one to replace her.

Several days later the dealer came and unloaded a pretty little fawn colored Jersey and took the old cow the farmer had sold us. We all admired her as she lay under our apple tree and chewed her cud. once chore time arrived we once again followed Daddy to the barn. This time there was nothing wrong and it didn't take long for the pail to be filled with frothy milk. As we were finishing up the chores we discussed what we would call our new cow. We didn't want to call her Jenny like the family cow before her, as we turned her back out to pasture Mom stood there watching her graze and turned to Daddy and asked. "How about Pansy?"

"Pansy sounds fine to me." was his reply. I said the name to myself a few times and decided I really liked it. A pretty little cow like that was perfect to be named after Mom's favorite flower.

Tidbits

One of the biggest regrets I have is, that I didn't have a camera when our children were babies. So many moments that have been lost because no one was there to capture the moment and preserve it for later years.

Several weeks ago we had family come visit for a little while, and this little guy was so cute and precious that I just had to share his photo with you.

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We have had more snow and mud to deal with this winter than we have ever had since we live here in a part of the country that was supposed to be friendly during the winter. I'm really ready for spring and yet at the same time trying not to feel envious at the folks living where we used to, who are enjoying 36" of snow with more forecast for today.

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I have this huge ivy plant that just keeps getting bigger. Every few months it will bloom, producing clusters of sweetly scented unique flowers. I would like to start a new plant from it and was hoping there are some people with a green thumb who can give me pointers on how to do that.

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I have been plagued with spam comments for quite a while already and finally decided to quit allowing anonymous comments for a few weeks to see if that helps. I don't want to use word verification if I don't have to.

Withdraw Thy Foot

Teacher Hannah had each of us students in school memorize a verse from the Bible each week and required us to recite it on Friday afternoon. Anyone who could do it perfectly would get a small prize. I used to spend lots of time rehearsing and practising to make sure I would get my weekly prize.

One week we had to memorize a verse out of Proverbs. I brought the reference home and Mom helped me find it in the Bible and after she had read it she said something about what a nice verse it was and that we should have it on our wall.

That was all I needed to hear. I got a piece of paper and with a blue permanent marker I carefully copied the verse and tacked it on the wall above the kitchen table. After I was done I read a little more and was intrigued how each verse in Proverbs had it's own little nugget of wisdom and asked Mom if she minds if I find more verses to copy then we could rotate them and not be tired of any of them.

She gave me permission and I set to work to find verses that I especially liked. When Saturday came I happily removed my first verse and tacked up a new one. I noticed Mom and Daddy seemed a little amused at my choice but they didn't say anything.

The next day was our inbetween Sunday and much to our delight Mom's younger brother John Henry and his family came. He was a very special uncle and visits from them were always a treat. We were all having a good time when Mom suggested we all move to the kitchen for snacks and popcorn. As we settled on our chairs and resumed visiting John Henry got to his feet and said, "Well, I think it's time we head for home."

We were all surprised and then Mom noticed that he was reading the verse I had tacked to the wall which read. "Withdraw thy foot from thy neighbors house lest he grow weary of thee and so hate thee." She quickly assured him that we weren't tired of their company and that I had chosen that verse for this weeks motto.

He settled back in his chair and the rest of the afternoon passed swiftly. And once they were heading home Mom suggested that I find another verse that wouldn't risk offending anyone.

Learning to Bake

The kitchen is one of our favorite places in our house. I enjoy playing with food and trying out new recipes. Rosy is getting to be very efficient at making the more simple things and delights in finding a recipe that she can handle on her own. Sunbeam likes being involved too, mostly by holding measuring cups and licking the cooking spoons.

Recently I was reading some letters that I received from my Mom several years ago and found a poem that she wrote about me.

Learning To Bake

The day for bread making is here
And baby sits next to the bowl
I will gather her smiles of cheer
As I stir and punch the dough.

Time now for baking a cake
The toddler, she climbs on a chair
And laughs with glee at the slithering egg
I released from its shell with care.

Next comes the spoon licking age
She holds the cup while I pour
The walls tell tales of shortening and sage
As well as the cupboards and floor.

Alas when she has learned to read
It's cookbooks that hold the charm
Find one in her bedroom and one indeed
Stuffed down by the sofa's arm.

"May I try this recipe? Please Mom, yes!
The dough is all tied in a bow."
"I will be gone but you can I guess
But remember you'll be on your own."

Beholding the kitchen upon my return
It took me some time for to see
Amid the clutter, a flour smudged girl
And six pastry bows as neat as can be.

The years have flown and she now resides
With her husband and munchkins three
They eat her inventions and then besides
She has eighty one cookbooks to see!

Sadness

It was our inbetween Sunday and as usual we got up late. We were almost ready to sit at the table to have our breakfast when we heard a car drive in the lane. When we got up to see who it was we saw an elderly man who did a lot of taxi work for the Amish. Daddy went outside to see what he wanted. It wasn't long before we heard the car leave and Daddy came back inside. We immediately sensed that something was wrong. When Daddy said that Grandpa died we all started crying.

I didn't know Grandpa Swarey all that well since we lived so far away, but I still wasn't prepared to hear that he had passed on. I had been working on a scrapbook for his birthday and now I would never get to give it to him. No one was hungry for breakfast anymore so Daddy hitched our horse to the buggy and went to see if he could find someone to take care of our chores while we went to the funeral. Mahlon wasn't quite two years old yet so they asked Grandpa Masts if they could take care of him till we got back.

By mid afternoon we had the suitcase packed and all the arrangements made and were ready to go. Our driver arrived in an old green clunker car. daddy sat in front and John, David, and I sat in the back with Mom. Once we got to Canada where the speed limit was posted by kilometers he got all excited and went speeding down the road. We passed everyone else and Daddy's explanation that kilometers and miles were different apparently didn't make any sense to the driver as we rushed on into the night.

Once we got to Grandpa Swarey's a few men came out of the house to welcome us inside. As was customary, several families had volunteered to take turns to sit up all night until after the funeral. We were shown to a room where we settled down and slept the rest of the night.

When morning arrived we had breakfast with Grandma. There were lots of neighboring women and girls there cleaning the house and cooking and baking in preparation of the funeral. After we were done eating we sat in the livingroom where there were rows of chairs and benches set up. Since we were family we got to sit on the chairs close to Grandma. Other families from neighboring churches stopped by for a few hours to share their condolences and sit and visit quietly for a few hours. I had never been so bored in my life as the day dragged by.

Finally by evening Daddy's other siblings started arriving and all the cousins arrived with them. Our parents gave us permission to sit together. It was much more fun to have someone our own age to talk to. The next day we were still sitting in the living room and by now we children were all getting fidgety and so when our parents gave us permission we all went outside to play. We had so much fun that it didn't seem possible that everyone was gathered for a sad reason.

The day of the funeral arrived. As buggies started pouring in the driveway and lots of sober faced women and children dressed all in black made their way to the house I wished I would be young enough to sit with Mom and Daddy like John and David were doing. There was an older man telling everyone where to sit and when it was finally time for the grandchildren to sit down I wasn't very pleased to see I was sitting right behind cousin John.

Cousin John was big and enjoyed nothing as much as being mean to younger children. I always tried to keep my distance from him. I comforted myself with the thought that he would surely not try anything during services.

As the first minister stood up and started preaching cousin John shifted back until he was sitting on my knees. I squirmed and he sat forward a little. It wasn't long before he was on my knees again. His sister was sitting beside me, nudged him and hissed "Behave yourself!" He sat back even farther to annoy her, so she leaned over and told me to use a pin and stick it into him. he overheard and sat forward, but I prepared myself. I removed a pin from my apron belt and held it ready. The next time he would sit on my lap there would be a surprise waiting for him.

It didn't take long. As he shifted back I held the pin firmly and felt triumphant when he jumped forward. His parents happened to see the disturbance and his Dad made him go sit beside him for the rest of the services so my victory was even better.

Once services were over and everyone filed past the casket we all headed in a long procession of buggies that made their way slowly to the little graveyard. The horses walked the whole way and I thought we would never get there. Once everything was over we headed back to the house where the women from the community had prepared a big meal. It seemed nice to have everyone talking and visiting in normal tones once again. Once we were done eating it was time for us to go home again. We said good-bye to Grandma and the rest of the aunts, uncles, and cousins and started on our long trip home.

Springs

Our fifteen acres was blessed with numerous springs. We children enjoyed watching the water gurgle out of the ground. The one spring was located at the edge of our patch of woods and was the start of a creek that then meandered its way through the community till it was joined by several others and wound up in the Casselman River.

Another spring was in our front yard. It was really big and Daddy dug a ditch and laid pipes in it to direct the water into a tank in the pasture for our animals. He made that the overflow would run back into the creek from which it had been diverted. This spring had some of the coldest, sweetest water that could be found. Even in the summer it was cold enough that Mom would often float covered bowls of food to cool them off and keep them cold. An occasional watermelon would be placed in it at the shallow end to get crispy cold by evening when we would watch as Daddy would retrieve it and cut it open and we would sit on the front porch and enjoy eating it

There was a big slab stone beside the spring and we used to enjoy sitting on it and listen to the water and pretend we were fishing. If we were brave we would dip our toes in the water but it was so cold we didn't want to keep them in the water longer than a few seconds.

There were a few seasonal springs too. One of them was in the basement of the house. Whoever had built the house must have wanted to have a running spring there because there was a trough deal set up for a place for the water to run through and a drain at the end to guide it outdoors to the creek.

Several other springs were scattered throughout the pasture and the front yard under the chestnut tree. Daddy used to be glad once those dried up by summertime, but I was always sad since I thought you can never have too much water to play in or springs to watch.

One day when we came home from school we decided to play by the big spring until it was time to go make supper. As we sat on the slab we noticed something moving in the water. Upon looking closer we saw what appeared to be a crawdad. David got all excited and wanted to catch it to show it to Mom and Daddy. He leaned down and grabbed for it but the water was deeper and the crawdad faster than he gave either of them credit for. The next instant he fell in headfirst. As he tried to stand up John and I managed to grab hold of him and drag him out. We headed for the house where Mom met us at the door. She got David into dry clothes and John and I helped get supper on the table.

A few days later we were disappointed to hear that Daddy had plans to cover the spring. He didn't want anyone else falling into it. We were in school when they fixed it so that the water all ran underground until it reached the tank in the pasture.

It continued to be a source of great drinking water but it would no longer provide a place to chill watermelons and other food.

Another Kind Of Memories

On a whim, way back in July my husband thought having his own blog similar to mine would be something he would possibly enjoy, and created an account, dug up a few good old pictures and made one teeny tiny little post.

I was hoping he would post regularly because he has so many great memories that it's a shame to let them be forgotten. Like the time he thought he was being kidnapped. His many adventures that only a boy growing up on a farm could have. His summer spent in the woods as an Indian and many more.

I have given up hope that he will ever blog regularly and so I was pleasantly surprised when this one of a kind book appeared.

He says his memories are copyrighted, so unless enough people would want a glimpse of what he has to share there will only ever be this one book.

Good-bye Jim

John and I were walking home from school. The snow banks beside the road had dwindled down to sad dirty piles. The melting snow created a creek in what was usually an empty ditch. As we dawdled along watching the water and floating twigs in the stream we heard a horse and buggy approaching.

When we looked up we were surprised to see Mom driving Jim. She stopped beside us and we climbed on the buggy wondering where we were going to, since a ride home from school was unheard of unless it was raining.

It didn't take long for us to notice that Mom seemed sad. When we asked her what was wrong she said a man was coming by that evening to buy Jim, and that she had wanted to drive him for one last time yet before he left us.

John and I weren't happy to hear that we would have to sell Jim. Mom assured us he was going to go to a good home and that he deserved to spend the rest of his life in a nice place where he would no longer have to pull our heavy buggy up and down those long hills.

Once we got home Daddy came out of the shop to unhitch Jim. Mom stood there stroking Jim and talking to him for a long time and then turned to go to the house. Her cheeks looked wet from tears and that was the last straw for me. The sobs I had been trying to choke back came. I went to pat Jim's velvety nose and tell him good-bye. He had been our faithful horse ever since I could remember and the thought that he would no longer be in the barn or out in his pasture to welcome us with his gentle whinny was almost more than I could bear to think about.

I went to the house to help Mom prepare supper. After we had eaten we heard a truck and trailer pull into the driveway. Daddy went outside to help load Jim. When he came back inside we got ready for bed.

The following days seemed a little sad when ever we went to the barn and saw Jim's stall with out Jim there waiting for us. Several weeks later we got a picture in the mail of Jim in a nice green pasture. He looked happy and it made me feel a lot better to know that he really was doing fine.