Farm memories
I often think farming runs through my veins. My parents, though neither of them choose a farming career, grew up surrounded by cows, potato fields and more. I had a wonderful childhood, growing up right next door to my grandparents in Reifs Mills, Wisconsin. By the time I came along, my grandparents started easing out of their farm business but were still doing enough that I got a good taste of the farm life. I have the best childhood memories of climbing the apple trees with my cousins, dodging chickens in the chicken coop as I helped grandma gather eggs, bouncing from bale to bale on the hay wagon as grandpa stacked the fresh bales of hay from the field and of the mouthwatering meals that always filled the farmhouse table, made with farm fresh ingredients. Farming was in my grandparent’s blood; part of who they were. The milk cows were sold before I can remember that they were ever there; the chores changing from twice a day milking with the dairy cows to feeding and watering a handful of steers for meat. The milk house was closed up most of the time my sisters and I played in the barn as there was no reason to access the bulk tank anymore. It was a mysterious room that frightened us a bit since it was off limits. It became home to spiders and cobwebs which as children were just as bad as monsters.
The farm that I remember grandma and grandpa had included an apple orchard and pear trees (still there today as my aunt and uncle bought the farm). There was a large raspberry patch, a pig pen and a large garden. The granary was still standing at that time though starting to suffer from the elements. I remember the old corn crib in the front yard. The barn often had a handful of steers and cats, often a few kittens. There were mows of hay stacked up high in the barn and a rope my uncles used to swing on. There was a chicken coop with 2 rooms, 1 for the layers and a second room for the younger pullet hens. I remember the windows being opened in the spring and scooping out layers and layers of chicken manure through the windows to clean the coop out. I doubt my 6 or 7 year old self was much help with this. I’d help grandma gather the eggs though the chickens always made me a little nervous as they’d swoop around and flap their wings at the intruders entering their domain. We’d carry the eggs up to the house in large wire baskets that would sit in the kitchen to be washed and packaged and taken to town. I loved helping my grandparents out.
Growing up on the farm helped instill a love of nature and an appreciation for nature in me. The farm was full of fun and possibilities. Imaginations run wild and there is just such anticipation in going to go visit the farm. My cousins from Green Bay would come and visit grandma and grandpa and we’d play in the apple orchard or barn for hours. Today our nieces come from Milwaukee and pitch in on our farm by picking potatoes or harvesting carrots. The farm opens up a new world, especially for kids. It helps to connect you to nature, to the Earth. I know that’s why people enjoy coming out here to shop the farm stand. You can actually be a part of this living organism, even if in just a little way. The farm is always changing, always growing and always opening one up to new possibilities. It’s dirty, it’s messy, it’s exhausting, but it’s oh so fun. We hope for you to be a part of it too!
Warm regards,
Farmer Jackie
