|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on September 6, 2021 at 3:05 PM||comments (4999)|
Down on the Farm by Tina Carlin
Fall on the farm sometimes means an end to a growing season. Oats, Wheat, and Corn are harvested to store up for animal feed for the winter.
I remember, in my younger days, harvesting oats, wheat, and corn.
We had an old Allis Chalmers combine that pulled behind our tractor to gather the oats and wheat. My job was to take a wagon to the field. We had two wagons that we used for gathering oats and wheat. We would either bag it or run in the w...Read Full Post »
|Posted by email@example.com on September 11, 2012 at 11:10 AM||comments (3120)|
Growing up in the country on a dairy farm was very limiting as far as socialization was concerned. We hardly ever went to visit anyone our age. I can remember that I was 21 years old before I ever spent the night at a friend’s house. We did have a few neighbors that were our age. We used to ride our bikes at night after the chores were done and go and visit our neighbor kids. There were Carol, David and Joyce all siblings and their cousin Jeff that lived on the neighboring two farms. It...Read Full Post »
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on September 4, 2012 at 4:20 PM||comments (297)|
I was blessed to have both my mother and my fraternal grandmother raise me. Lillian Emily James Myers (Nan) was born in Cogan House, Pennsylvania, May 21, 1910 to Thomas and Della Hepler James. Nan was one of seven children. She married my Pappy, Otto Harry Myers and had my Aunt Helen Myers Barto in November, 1933 and my father Harry Otto Myers in June, 1940.
Nanny and Pappy Myers bought the farm that I was raised on in Cogan Station in 1951. It was not a large dairy farm, ...Read Full Post »
|Posted by email@example.com on August 25, 2012 at 11:35 AM||comments (52)|
I love living in the country. It is so nice to live in an area where you can look out over the land that God created and see the beauty in just the tiniest things. The other day a friend of ours stopped in the market after a play date with another friend of ours. She brought in her two little boys and they had a catapillar that they had found that day and decided to take it home and watch it turn into a butterfly. This little creature was a beautiful ugly little thing. I was never fond of wig...Read Full Post »
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on August 9, 2012 at 5:40 PM||comments (165)|
Reflecting back on my years growing up on a dairy farm in Lycoming County, PA, I see that God was preparing me for my future life. I can remember many summers of helping my mother and grandmother can the vegetables out of our garden. Our garden was close to an acre of land and then there was the sweet corn field and the potato patch that just as big. It would be nothing for them to can 500 quarts of tomatoes and to “put up” as they called it just as many pints of sweet corn. Oh th...Read Full Post »
|Posted by email@example.com on August 8, 2012 at 3:10 PM||comments (191)|
It is a sad day today here on our farm. We received word that a dairy farmer friend of ours lost his life in a tragic farming accident. They aren’t sure how it happened, but all we know is that he is gone. I reflect back on several times that we have gotten together with him and his wife. We went on a vacation to Ohio several years ago and made it a point to stop and go out for supper with them. This is the first time that we ever ate alligator. We attended many farm meeting that he was...Read Full Post »
|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on||comments (125)|
Growing up on farm did not make it easy to get away because we didn’t have anyone to do chores while we were gone. I never remember taking a vacation away from the farm overnight at all while growing up. Yes we would go to our grandparent’s house in Williamsport and spend the night, or to our Aunt and Uncle’s cabin for the weekend but still went home to do chores. I think in a way our Sunday drives were our vacations. We would leave right after the breakfast dishes were done...Read Full Post »