From My Farmhouse Kitchen

FROM MY FARMHOUSE KITCHEN By Renae B. Vander Schaaf

Forty years ago this month of April, my years many had come down during farmer and I moved to our farm home. It storms. It was time to bite the bullet as was our third move since we had much as we dreaded doing it. The few exchanged matrimonial vows less than a remaining trees needed to be removed. year prior. We had also planted a windbreak

This farm acreage was a beautiful well- around two sides of the farm. They were kept farm. A large lawn with a few trees a fast-growing tree which did exactly surrounded the old farmhouse which had what we wanted. They blocked the north been built in 1935. The small grove of and west winds very well. We were mature trees was more interesting than thankful to have it. most — with a slope that added interest and character. This windbreak was becoming more of problem. As it aged, branches and twigs

A very tiny creek (actually the word would litter the ground after any wind. creek is almost too generous to describe The youngest children coined it the MWP the trickle of water) occasionally runs through the trees — Make Work Project. They were not happy farm stead. There is a little larger one that goes with this chore they deemed unnecessary. through the pasture. Well, they grew up and left. Just as the dairy cows

Normally in a snowy year, the melting snow often were sold when the youngest child left, so makes the tiny creek a point of interest. The melt- these trees had to be removed when it was just my ing snow can cause a turbulent mini waterfall with farmer and me to do the cleanup. quite a bit of power as it flows through the narrow gorge. Sometimes the rushing water disappeared under a remaining snow bank before it emptied into a swampy area.

By summer, there is little trace of this stream which earlier announced spring had arrived.

Yes, this acreage was and still is my ‘dream’ farm.

The grove was a favorite place for me to be. There were trees to climb. Who cares if I was supposed to be mature married woman? The shady canopy was a favorite destination for a Sunday afternoon walk. The birds would fly from tree to tree singing their songs. Patches of violets grew naturally in open areas.

Chokecherries and elderberries would spring up Once the dastardly deed of taking trees was done, in the most surprising places. Mulberry trees grew the farm has a new look. Surprisingly in a way we along the east edge. It was a paradise. liked it. This isn’t a level piece of land so the natuDid you notice the verb “was?” When we moved here, the trees were already mature. Through the ral hills and valleys on this eleven acres have always suggested beauty. It is a bit easier to imagine a treeless prairie. The wind of this winter reminded us why the

Letters to the editor early settlers soon planted trees upon their arrival. Also, with the disappearance of windbreak, the are always welcome. woodpeckers packed up and left. Not a single one appeared at the suet feeder this winter. Send your letters to: Only a handful or two of the original trees remain on this place. Three pines are at least 90 years old. I Editor, The Land know because the man we purchased the farm from 418 South Second St. said he had to water those trees when he was a young boy. If he were alive, he would be over 100 Mankato, MN 56001 years old. e-mail: editor@thelandonline.com He and his wife planted four maples around the All letters must be signed and accompanied by a phone number (not for publication) to verify authenticity. house. One green ash remains in the grove. Then there is this landmark maple tree that is huge along our road. It is a majestic looking tree. The kind that inspires one to plant a tree in hopes it too will grow into a tree that says ‘This is my home, and I like it here.’

Thankfully we have been planting trees over the past 40 years — wherever we could find an open spot. The lawn was and remains an obstacle course for the person who does the mowing. Fruit trees, such as apple, cherries, plums, and pear trees do well. I still keep trying to have good apricots.

We like different varieties of trees, so have planted Burr oaks, butternuts, green ashes, maples and more evergreen trees, a black cherry, elm, walnut, sycamore and of course, a cottonwood.

I’m realizing now that butternut trees needed more room than was allowed. There is definitely more to this project than purchasing a couple of trees, digging a hole and carrying buckets of water.

Not every tree we have planted has survived for one reason or another. In one location the trees were doing well until several real wet years occurred. The normally dry land remained wet too long. Apparently the soggy soil didn’t let enough oxygen reach the roots. This cold, snowless, windy winter has taken its toll on many of the pine trees. They desperately need water and less wind. Other trees haven’t made it because of rodent and deer problems. In years past voles especially have made tracks under the snow to chew on the bark. Deer have marked this place as the hobos once did. Somewhere they have posted a sign which says “Young tender trees just right for nibbling or rubbing antlers against.” As my MWP of picking up sticks disappears, a new MWP of choosing and planting more trees and shrubs begins. This really seems more fun of a project. But also a bit scary. One almost feels like an artist with an almost blank canvas to begin the process of planting trees.

When I drive through the countryside, there are many farm homes I have admired for their trees, shrubbery and landscaping. Sometimes I wish signs were posted by an unusual tree or shrub to let me know what the plant is.

My farmer and I are thankful this place has had many wonderful trees for all these years. Now it’s up to us to make this place beautiful once again. It will be a never-ending MWP. It sounds absolutely delightful because this is our home, and we like it here.

Renae B. Vander Schaaf is an independent writer, author and speaker. Contact her at (605) 530-0017 or agripen@live.com. v .