Someone today at church said something to me about being a midwestern farm girl and it got me thinking about life growing up. My childhood was pretty special. I had the privilege of growing up on a dairy farm. Well, we didn't technically live on it till I was in 5th grade. It was my grandparents' farm and they still lived there, but we lived 5 minutes away. Growing up I wasn't always so fond of my parents' occupation choice. I didn't like having to come home from school to spend a couple of hours doing barn chores. But looking back, I can see just how blessed I was to grow up in this extremely special lifestyle.
I spent my summer days running in fields with my dogs, feeding baby kittens, catching calves, and driving machinery. My cousins would come over when my dad was done haying and we would all unload small square bales together. My sister and I made TONS of games out of jumping between round bales, climbing up on the giant feed bags, and driving the golf cart around. We would name our kittens, we would name the cows! Winters were spent quickly doing our chores and then sledding on the giant snow mountains my dad made for us.
But of course, with farming, there are the hard times too.
There were the times spent trying to guide cows into new pens only to have them escape and run to the road. Or trying to flip a cow who had gotten stuck in the barn gutter. Or leading a wild heifer to the barn by carrying its baby in front of it. Or climbing into the tank where the milk is stored to scrub out the inside to reduce bacteria counts. Or feeding the calves, outside, when the temperature was -30 and your snot froze to your face.
The glamorous farming life!
Those were days that I HATED growing up on a farm. I have an extremely vivid memory of my dad yelling to have my mom, my sister and I come out to help him late at night to find cows that had broke out of their pens. In the dark. Can I tell you how hard it is to find cows at night? And also how darn fast cows can be if they want to be? Pretty sure my mom, sister, and I were all in tears by the end of the night.
But when you sum up the whole of farming life, it was working hard as a family. I learned so much growing up on a farm. I learned all about the details of farm life, like signs of mastitis, what strawberry foot is, and when the hay should be cut. But I also learned how to work hard and how to trust the Lord to provide. How to work with your family and how to persevere through. And how to tough it out and just stick some dirt in it. Great lessons learned that help me in my life here living in the city.
So thanks to my parents for allowing me a truly special and incredible childhood, but more so for the life lessons you taught me! Can't wait to head to the farm again soon!!
