Winter on the farm was in my thoughts today.
Cattle gathered in the barn the smell of bales of hay.
Calves would need their feeding so to the barn we'd go
Carrying buckets of calf maker sloshing to and fro.
Those anxious words "the cows are out" made us hurry on our way.
Running after cattle was anything but play.
We'd stop what we were doing and head down off the hill
My sisters, Vic and Debby, and my older brother Bill.
You'd have to get behind the cows and then begin to shout
"Hey up there" and shake a stick to turn the cows about.
We'd run them through the fence where they had found a hole
And hope they didn't turn around and go out of control.
Dad would kill a beef each year and hang it at the barn.
The hay rope held it high to keep the meat from harm.
Dad was a quite handy man with a bone saw and a knife.
Butchering was a special skill he used all his life.
The freezer on our front porch had hand packed stuff inside.
Corn on the cob in aluminum foil and steaks that would be fried.
Berries were in plastic bags and balls of melon too.
It was nice to eat on the farm but there was work to do.
"Get a chicken dressed" sounds silly to kids in town
But on the farm its dinner with good smells all around.
First you catch a chicken then the head, it has to go.
Remove all it's feathers and that stuff inside, just so.
Chicken was fried on the stove or filled and roasted with dressing.
A kitchen warm from cooking was a special winter blessing.
I almost forgot the cobbler with it's topping nice and brown
With berries picked that summer from patches we had found.
Dad would often park his truck and walk in from the road.
Carrying in a week's groceries was a mighty load.
Little boxes of cereal were considered quite a treat
Whoever got the raisin bran thought it was really neat.
Our house had no insulation with winter's storms it strove
But we could get real cozy setting by the fuel oil stove.
Rocking in the rocking chair its arms so nice and wide
Laying comfy on the couch with pillows by our side.
We didn't use the front room much not having central heat.
A good fire in the fire place would really warm your feet.
You'd have to turn yourself around because your back was cold.
Watching the fire flicker never did get old.
Snow lay around the window panes thick blankets were on the bed.
Just curl up nice and tight and pull the covers over your head.
With the morning we awoke and grabbed our good school clothes
And head down to the stove before we nearly froze.
Winter was the time for school we'd wait for the bus to come.
When number 26 appeared down the road then we'd start to run.
Over a snowy hill, across the bridge, and then
We'd race across the bottom and up a hill again.
That old school bus was very cold the road would make it rock.
On a five mile ride into town at the grade school it would stop.
After school we'd get in line on the bus we'd have to stand
Till the kids got off at Sand Hill then by a friend we’d land.
In winter time the out house was just a hurried stop.
The wind banged at the door and cold air came through the top.
The front porch had icicles. It was quite a sight to see.
Icicles would grow very thick and be as tall as me.
Water ran off the metal roof unto a trough below
Then through a gravel filter to the cistern it would flow.
We'd use a pitcher pump to bring the water out
Pumping fast and hard brought water through the spout.
Mother did our washing and hung it on the line.
Winter's wind, crisp and cold would freeze it stiff each time.
We bring them in the house and dry them by the stove.
These were the patterns of our life that my Mother wove.
Mother read the Bible we learned the Twenty Third Psalm.
She would often sing a hymn her singing brought me calm.
She sent me off to Sunday School a country road I walked.
Church was a cheery place of Jesus love they talked.
Our days were filled with work and play with no other kids around.
We never stopped to wonder what others did in town.
For me it was a happy time filled with wintery charm,
When I grew up among the hills of my Mothers's country farm.
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