Memories of Mom

We recently celebrated my mother's birthday. We got together for dinner. It is funny how old, simple items spark your memory of those things we took for granted and don't give another thought to until they are gone.

Mom loved making Chiffon and angel food cakes. We gobbled them up almost faster than it took to bake them. Having an unlimited supply of eggs from the farm, helped because these cakes take eight eggs each.

When the new automatic clothes washers came on the market in the '60's, Mom was too loyal to her Twin Tub Dexter. She wouldn't even consider getting one. "They don't make the clothes as clean," she said.

She was an expert bread maker often telling us the secret was in the kneading of the dough. Without fail, her loaves were trophy pieces on display at the house for the afternoon. In one meal a loaf would be inhaled and enjoyed to the max. Yup, it is wonderful to reflect on what made her special and unique.

Hailing a Hay Baler Near You

Most of first crop hay has been put in the stack or hauled to the barn. Second crop hay is just a week or so away. And wouldn't you know it a storm is threatening. No one is surprised, but the secret is knowing when to cut the alfalfa so it will dry and be baled before or between storms, to avoid mold from the moisture. Dad also did custom cutting and baling, so we were always pushing to finish. If the hay was too dry, we baled at night or early in the morning. This early morning sunrise farm picture with bales in the field, reminded me of the days we marched to the beat of the swather, baler and bales. I can smell the rich, warm grassy odor now, and hear the song of a meadow lark singing. Both take me back to the good ole' days of my youth.

Have Farmer Will Travel

Dad wore overalls all the time. The striped train engineer type. It was weird to see him in a pair of regular pants. He had hats to match, too. We children, were his workers. He had us free of charge, and we loved it.

This is the time of year as teens we were bailing hay and helping with the farm. I considered myself an expert baler. A few times when the machine was plugged and the sheer bolts had broken, I was able to climb under the clogged area, pull out the pins and replace them with new ones. After pulling out all the dry hay, I was able to continue on. I was so proud to be able to solve the problem and finish the job.