As I was sitting still today I got to reminiscing about the farm I once owned and other humor that had occurred.
Big Load...
A few years after Carl and I married we moved to Carl's family's farm in rural Missouri.
We had found out Cole County Ag Extension was selling all sorts of berry and fruit trees at great rates.
We needed quite a few things because the property we had was a cleared cow pasture and, besides a few pin oak trees along the road and back line of of the property, it had no other trees on the acreage around our newly built house. So I ordered blueberry and blackberry bushes and apple, cherry and peach trees. When it came time to pick up the order, my friend, Sherry called to ask if I could pick hers up, too. I told her we’d better take two trucks. When I got to the extension office I was shocked to find the pickup area empty except for some little bundles of twigs tied with string. I asked where my order was and the attendant led me to one of those bundles. They were bare root cuttings, which take up very little space.
I could lift mine in one hand. I mentioned to the attendant that I felt silly bringing a truck to pick up the order. It was then that I noticed a man behind me. He ruefully stated, “Don’t feel bad; I brought a trailer.” 😅
Growing Up...
My daughter Elizabeth was playing horse with her Grandpa one day. As she was sitting on his back, he asked her how old she was. Elizabeth said, “Grandpa, you know I’m 3.”
“When will you be 4?” he asked.
“When I get through being 3,” she explained. 😅
That Explains It...
I was teaching my 3-year-old grandson, Lucas, how to shoot baskets on his child-sized basketball hoop. After missing three shots in a row, he gave me the ball and said, “Grandma, this thing doesn’t work!” 😅
A Different Language...
Marrying into an established farm family had provided quite the education.
I anticipated the long hours country people put in their farm.
I anticipated the hard work it took to keep everything going.
I even anticipated the laundry room piled with mountains of work clothes that, based on the stench, I didn’t know if I could salvage.
What caught me completely off guard was how to speak the language.
Take, for example, farm names...
If I had a degree in agriculture, it still wouldn’t help me figure out what farm is what!
It took years not to get sweaty palms every time I needed to deliver parts, lunch or borrowed equipment to a neighboring places!
In Plummer's house, it turns out the family had moved decades ago.
The Oak tree field had not had a oak tree in it for goodness knows when, but it’s still remembered by it!
“Must have been some oak tree,” I’ve often mumbled under my breath. One day I was walking with our dog down our country road and stopped to shoot the breeze with one of the neighbors I hadn’t met before.
But when I said “Hello, Mr. Hopper,”
I soon found out his nickname has nothing to do with his given name, but everything to do with his planting crops hip-hopping pattern. Who knew?
Have a spectacular day and keep smiling! 😉
Nana
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