I love how you're exercising other artistic talents with Canva. You're a natural. My memories of country life are primarily around horseback riding and caring for our horses at a local stable. I loved the smells and sounds of the place. It was not far from our Madison home but it was a world away in my mind. Lovely memories, Tom.
Thanks, Mary. Canva is my dive into AI, and it has its frustrating moments. The horses in the picture, as you can see, are not hooked up to the tractor, as I wanted. I also wanted the farmer in the picture with the girls to be toting a shotgun, but that's forbidden by Canva's rules. I wish I were a sketch artist, then I could do exactly as I wanted.
I, too, have fond memories of visits to my grandparent’s farm(s) near Portage, in the 1940s and 1950s. The two huge draft horses, Dan and Chief, were awesome and both pulled a plow in the field and the hay wagon on the county road. The house(s) never had electricity or indoor plumbing and only an outhouse with daddy long legs and flies, and there were ceramic pots to use at night if you didn’t want to trek outside in the dark. Kerosine lamps provided light inside and outside. Television was not available, only one radio. Chickens ran free, eggs came from the henhouse, and fresh milk by hand twice a day. Never go in the pasture with the bull. Rattle snake skins were hung on barbed wire fences, the windmill provided target practice with a BB gun, and water was hand pumped. The only tangible remnants I have of that time and place are a few photos and, of greatest value, the arrowheads collected by my father and which had been uncovered in plowed fields; some of these points are thousands of years old and are now family heirlooms for my children. I have forgotten much in my 82 years but never my times on the farm as a very young boy.
I can relate to all of that. The battery-powered radio didn't work all that well, but I did hear a soap opera called "Stella Dallas." Pumping water for the house and the cattle was my job because I was big. Clean air, fresh food, and lots of exercise. An idyllic childhood.
Do you remember when Mrs. Sonnentag (Wilfred's wife) would walk the cows up the road to the barn for milking? When the cows would poop, they'd leave small thin cowpies on the road that would spread out and make a star like brown splotch. Which we would sometimes come across them when we were walking up to their farm. Somehow those cowpies never looked right to me, I liked the ones on the pasture: large, full and deep. Freshly moist. When all the heifers at the shack needed water, we could watch them poop while we were in the outhouse, relieving ourselves.
My favorite times growing up were the weeks I spent in summer at my aunt's farm. Of course my cousins considered me the city kid and pulled a few pranks, but I still remember the barn swing, the hay bales piled up to the loft, ( perfect for forts) and getting to ride the pony. Oh, and the smell of lilacs. And now I live in the country. I plant lilacs anyplace we've moved.
Thanks, Alison. All kids should spend some time in the country. I started driving a tractor as soon as I could reach the clutch, at the age of 9, and I began driving a team of horses at 10 or 11. Fortunately, I was a big kid even then.
I love how you're exercising other artistic talents with Canva. You're a natural. My memories of country life are primarily around horseback riding and caring for our horses at a local stable. I loved the smells and sounds of the place. It was not far from our Madison home but it was a world away in my mind. Lovely memories, Tom.
Thanks, Mary. Canva is my dive into AI, and it has its frustrating moments. The horses in the picture, as you can see, are not hooked up to the tractor, as I wanted. I also wanted the farmer in the picture with the girls to be toting a shotgun, but that's forbidden by Canva's rules. I wish I were a sketch artist, then I could do exactly as I wanted.
I, too, have fond memories of visits to my grandparent’s farm(s) near Portage, in the 1940s and 1950s. The two huge draft horses, Dan and Chief, were awesome and both pulled a plow in the field and the hay wagon on the county road. The house(s) never had electricity or indoor plumbing and only an outhouse with daddy long legs and flies, and there were ceramic pots to use at night if you didn’t want to trek outside in the dark. Kerosine lamps provided light inside and outside. Television was not available, only one radio. Chickens ran free, eggs came from the henhouse, and fresh milk by hand twice a day. Never go in the pasture with the bull. Rattle snake skins were hung on barbed wire fences, the windmill provided target practice with a BB gun, and water was hand pumped. The only tangible remnants I have of that time and place are a few photos and, of greatest value, the arrowheads collected by my father and which had been uncovered in plowed fields; some of these points are thousands of years old and are now family heirlooms for my children. I have forgotten much in my 82 years but never my times on the farm as a very young boy.
I can relate to all of that. The battery-powered radio didn't work all that well, but I did hear a soap opera called "Stella Dallas." Pumping water for the house and the cattle was my job because I was big. Clean air, fresh food, and lots of exercise. An idyllic childhood.
Do you remember when Mrs. Sonnentag (Wilfred's wife) would walk the cows up the road to the barn for milking? When the cows would poop, they'd leave small thin cowpies on the road that would spread out and make a star like brown splotch. Which we would sometimes come across them when we were walking up to their farm. Somehow those cowpies never looked right to me, I liked the ones on the pasture: large, full and deep. Freshly moist. When all the heifers at the shack needed water, we could watch them poop while we were in the outhouse, relieving ourselves.
Fond memories, Phil. Thanks (I think) for your comment.
My favorite times growing up were the weeks I spent in summer at my aunt's farm. Of course my cousins considered me the city kid and pulled a few pranks, but I still remember the barn swing, the hay bales piled up to the loft, ( perfect for forts) and getting to ride the pony. Oh, and the smell of lilacs. And now I live in the country. I plant lilacs anyplace we've moved.
Thanks, Alison. All kids should spend some time in the country. I started driving a tractor as soon as I could reach the clutch, at the age of 9, and I began driving a team of horses at 10 or 11. Fortunately, I was a big kid even then.