Spring on the farm was a time to celebrate
Posted Mar 12, 2010 By Jeff Maguire
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Tweet ThisEMC Lifestyle - Growing up on the family farm near Stittsville was a great opportunity for me and the older I get the more fondly I look back on the experience.
We have my parents to thank for all of it. If they hadn't bought the farm in the 1960s I'm sure our lives would have been very different. We would really have missed something special.
True, it wasn't all a bed of roses. Farming is a labour intensive business and I would be lying if I said "I enjoyed every minute of it." But there are some real lessons in life that go with farming. Birth, death, hard work and above all else good memories!
I look sadly at the continuing decline of the agricultural sector in this country. I also wish more people could have had the experiences my brother and sisters and I had on the farm, not to mention the wonderful times our own children had while they were growing up. They still talk about it often.
In fact it was during one of our many conversations about life on the farm that the idea for this column popped into my head.
My mother Molly and I were chatting on the phone one day recently and, not surprisingly in this part of the world I suppose, we talked about how much we are looking forward to spring. Not that it has been a difficult winter. But hey, winter is winter right!
I would have to say spring is my favourite season of the year, allergy season aside. But then again I never had allergies until I reached adulthood so that's no doubt part of the reason I have such great memories of spring during my youth.
There is something about the snow and ice melting, the sun warming the earth and the first signs of green grass and budding trees that you simply can't put a price on.
That was especially true after a long and often hard winter on the farm. Our laneway was a quarter of a mile long so my father's challenge was keeping it open, especially during what seems to me were the very snowy winters of the 1960s and early `70s.
During the recent chat with my mother, she mentioned some of the difficulties - call them challenges I suppose - we used to have during the winter months. Especially just after we moved from the village to the farm and before we put certain amenities in place and purchased some necessary equipment.
In the past I have stated my opinion that children and young people should be given certain tasks including helping in the house and the yard.
I'm talking about simple things like making beds, helping their parents clean the house, cutting the grass in summer and helping shovel the drive in winter.
Choice shouldn't be an option! In fact that is one of the key problems in our society today. Young people have too many choices and too often they are the wrong ones.
My theory is that if children aren't given some responsibility there is a far greater probability many will grow up to be irresponsible.
DAILY CHORES
On the farm there wasn't such a thing as choice. Everybody had jobs (chores) to do every day, whether they liked it or not. In the end I believe that was very good for all of us and it is something we did our best to pass on to our children, with some success too I'm pleased to say.
Were the chores fun to do? Not really. Have you ever mucked out a cattle barn or cleaned out a hen house (my Dad will laugh at this)?
Randy, my brother, and I didn't do a lot of laughing when we were carrying buckets of water to the barn, in the dead of winter, to give the cattle a drink.
You see, in those early days on the farm there was no running water in the barn. So as my parents herd of Charolais cattle grew, so did the number of water buckets we carried to the barn every day. In the mildest weather the source was a well (with a hand pump) in the yard. In the coldest conditions we pumped the water from the basement through a hose.
Those cows could really drink the water too. Put a bucket in front of one, as it stands tethered by a stanchion and watch as the large animal vacuums up water. There was a gigantic sucking sound and the bucket was suddenly empty.
Back to the pump we would go for more water. It was a process repeated time and again until all were watered. Then it was time to feed them.
Try carrying water buckets outside in -20C temperatures and you'll have some idea what I am talking about.
My father Howard was a firefighter, as well as a newspaper publisher and commercial printer. I remember Dad telling me about responding to a particular house fire in the winter.
It was freezing cold and during the initial scramble to get into his turnout gear and help attack the rapidly progressing blaze, he forgot to pull his long fire boots up all the way.
When the pump on the truck was primed and the hoses charged the back spray found its way into his boots. Until he realized it and pulled them up farther that is.
Too late! By that time he had a couple of inches of water sloshing around inside both of his boots. Dad recalled that it was "bitterly cold, with a howling wind".
Imagine being on the end of a fire hose, with all that back pressure, standing in water in freezing temperatures with only your socks for protection.
Dad said he considered pouring the water out, but thought better of it. "The water was actually providing the insulation. If I had poured it out my feet would have frozen," he reasoned.
It's a lesson I recalled while Randy and I were hauling water buckets to the barn every winter afternoon, just after getting off the school bus.
We filled them to the brim and often the water would slosh over the top of the containers onto our clothes and run into our rubber boots.
Not surprisingly that is something I recall very clearly. As my Dad had already cautioned, I never poured the water out until we were finished. And you thought your feet got cold during the winter?
My mother and I talked about that very situation the other day and had a great laugh about it too. It didn't seem very funny at the time somehow.
Spring memories
So, is it any wonder I always anticipate the arrival of spring! For me it was, and always will be, something to celebrate.
I'm sure it is partly because in spring, once the fields had dried up enough that is, our beef cattle were turned out of the barn to graze during the warm weather months. The spring-fed creek, which is a feature of our farm to this day, was their source of water.
It was also the source of so much of our spring fun.
"Let's go back to the creek Jeff and see if there are any tadpoles," Randy would say to me.
We carried a bucket and net and, if we saw some fledgling frogs swimming in the water, we would scoop some out and examine them closely, before releasing them.
On those long ago spring sojourns we were often accompanied by Randy's best friend Larry Parks (he lives in Sweden now with his wife and young family). Larry loved the farm.
Rubber boots, mud and the inevitable "soakers." For us it was a spring ritual.
My mother would stand on the back porch of our farm house and shake her head as we sat wringing the water out of our muddy socks.
The girls, my sisters Linda and Sue, were less inclined to wade around in the creek until the water ran over their boot tops. That was "guy stuff".
But we all have fond memories of spring back at the creek. Building log bridges, scouting for minnows or just watching the spring torrent rush out of the forest and then following its wayward path to the fence line which divided our property from the Reg Faulkner farm next door.
My sisters couldn't wait until it was dry enough for the ponies to be turned out of the barn so they could go riding, another rite of spring on the Maguire farm.
With the official arrival of another spring just days away, my mind goes back to those long ago days and all of the good things that occurred when the snow and ice disappeared and warm temperatures brought the promise of enjoyable days in the outdoors. It was a rebirth of sorts and I absolutely loved it!
Spring meant we could look forward to playing ball on the "diamond" we established in our orchard or a game of pick-up football with friends in the yard.
Now the times are different and so is the place. But I must admit that I look forward to spring with exactly the same sense of joy and optimism that I always feel at this time of year.
The sun is shining today, the snow is rapidly melting and there is a fresh, mild breeze rustling through the red maple behind our house.
Just as I am finishing this column I can hear a fly buzzing between the windows in my home office.
Spring has nearly sprung!
If you have any comments or questions for Jeff Maguire, he can be reached by e-mail at: jeffrey.maguire@rogers.com
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