Grandchildren are eager to help

FARMHOUSE KITCHEN, from pg. 4 grain left in the straw.

Raising livestock on any scale can be one of the ties that bind families. Our children were actively involved with whatever livestock or fowl we had have had on this farm. We started out with sheep, a cow/calf herd, and chickens for meat and eggs. At one time we had goats or a cow for milk and meat. Geese and turkeys provided entertainment and some good eating. Yes, this farm has been a place of learning and working together on a broken shoestring budget.

Now it is our grandchildren who want to see Grandpa’s baby lambs or to help — even though they are very young.

How sad it is to think that if my farmer’s family had stayed in The Netherlands, he might not be able to teach his grandchildren about raising livestock.

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

February morning like that, to go to the basement, put on my farm clothes and trudge outside into that cold night air. It certainly woke a person up. And it was like another world when I would open the garage door to step outside.

It was the one time of day when the winds were literally non-existent. The extreme dark and quiet of the night was both soothing and unexplainably spooky at the same time. And yet, when you looked up at the sky, the stars would be out in full form, and the moonlight would make the snow glisten like diamonds. It was truly a sight and a feeling to behold…

… until I wondered if someone was out there in the dark, watching me. Part of me thought I should bring a crucifix with me to hold up all the way out to the sheep barn; but then I wondered where would I put it if some mother out there was in dire need of obstetric aid?

It wasn’t just the cold that kept my feet moving forward quickly as I tried to enjoy the beauty of those frigid, still wintery nights. For some reason, once I got inside the barn, I felt like I had reached the pinnacle of safety and security.

Still, I again faced mixed emotions once inside the barn. If there was nothing happening, then it was a complete waste of time and effort for me to get up in the night. On the other hand, if there was something happening, it could be a while before I got back home, depending on what was happening and who was birthing where, who might be having trou- ble and who might not be claiming their lambs.

So honestly, I never knew what I wanted to see when I would open the barn door.

But the first order of business is still to look for babies on the ground, get them to the safety of a lambing pen and take care of them first. Then it’s important to get back out to the group and walk around behind all of the other expectant mothers to see just how busy the maternity ward really is.

While it’s the responsible thing to do, I sometimes feel the need to go to confession after I have spent time walking around looking at the back ends of these ladies in waiting, who just walk around with it all hanging out.

After it’s all done and I can turn down the barn lights, it’s actually kind of fun to see the mothers who have had their babies, all cozied together and getting to know each other — until you see one who won’t claim her baby. Then you just want to do an exorcism right on the spot while you’re up anyway, and while you might have that crucifix somewhere on your person.

Indeed, that fall decision certainly impacts our February work load — especially the older we get. Someday it will be young man’s work.

But until then, when the fall comes, we’ll still turn the rams in with the ewes, then leave them some privacy while we work on getting the crop out. Then we’ll only dream about peaceful February nights.

Karen Schwaller brings “Table Talk” to The Land from her home near Milford, Iowa. She can be reached at kschwaller@evertek.net. v