Humor

ARE YOU SEEKING EXCITEMENT OR CONTENTMENT?

/ helbergfarmstories / 9 Comments

I have a 5-year Q&A journal that I purchased just after the fire.  I did this mainly out of fun.  I have a regular journal that I track major stuff in, but this one narrows things down to a simple singular question.  This was for today: Are you seeking excitement or contentment?

Since this mini book records several years in a row, I found it interesting that the last two years I was excited about things.  Things that, to date, really have not come to pass (bummed a bit on that one).  However, now I find that I am seeking contentment more than excitement.

Too many things, good and bad, have happened over a very short period of time.  I have learned, once again, to appreciate all that I do have.  I also appreciate the things I can still do.  Maybe this has made me mellow as I age (eeek-really hope not)?  I prefer to be content with the things I have, the people I share things with, and the way things are in general.

I am learning not to be so upset by things I cannot control (we will NOT get into politics in here!), but working on things that I can control.  The hardest issue yet to work on is “time” – it’s still a bugger for me.

where-has-time-gone

I used to live by the watch on my wrist, which is pretty sad if you think about it.  There was nothing else to let me know what I was doing except that watch and my day timer.  No cel phones, no ipads or tablets, not even laptops (they didn’t come out till much later).

I remember the first computer I ever used (and fell in love with) was the old punch-card type (for those that do not know what I am talking about: check out these pics!)  That and typewriters got me hooked on keyboards, but they did not keep my schedule.

I no longer have a watch.  The fire took what I did have, and then my cel phone just slowly seemed to sneak in and replace it (my new “monster” inanimate object).  I just keep alarms now.  They go off with all kinds of different noises when I need to do or be aware of something.  Being a writer at heart, I still keep a physical pen-and-ink day timer.  I find something comforting in paper and pen things.

writing-stuff

Then again, it may just be because I am addicted to these things worse than a drug addict (yes, I am positive on this!).  I CANNOT walk past a stationary store or section of a store without checking it out.  I physically and mentally have to keep telling myself – “Walk on – no you have enough and don’t need another!”  I also have issues with the crafting areas.

This leads me back to the contentment in life again.  With time constantly slipping through my hands,

time-slips-thru-hands

I try to focus on the things that really matter to me now.  My family, our critters, and gardens, the farm, and all my personal passions.  I have no need for huge social affairs anymore.  I prefer a comfortable get-together with a bunch of good friends.  I look forward to a moment of peace which is, unfortunately, few and far between.  My excitement now is only produced when I complete a crafting project for a family member of loved one.

I don’t think this is an age thing.  I think it is deeper than that.  We hunt all of our lives for peace.  We seek out like-minded individuals so we don’t have to be continually on the lookout.  I will always look to improve whatever I can for whomever I can but, all-in-all, I am content!

charlie-brown-n-snoopy-content

 

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Does Your Mother Cook?

/ helbergfarmstories / 2 Comments

If she does, be glad!  My mother could not cook.  We loved her dearly but she would be the first to tell you that her cooking stinks!  This is not being mean, but rather being factual.  She hated cooking.  I think this was a major reason for her marrying our dad.  He loved to cook and was great at it!

To explain just how much our mother hated cooking I will need to share two stories with you.

*****************************************************************************

Once upon a time there was a woman who really hated to cook.  To say she hated to cook is not completely accurate.  She was not very good at it which led to her hating it.  Early in the course of her life she met a man.  This man LOVED to cook, and he was very good at it.  The two fell in love, were married and proceeded to have three silly daughters.

One perfect summer day, the woman thought she would make something simple for her family to eat.  Noodles and tomatoes should be simple enough, or so she thought.   The woman was born and raised during the Great Depression, and this dish was one of her favorite family dishes.  In her time, growing and making your own was a normal way of life.  Noodles and tomatoes – all homemade/homegrown – perfect!

She had every good intention of putting together this wonderful, family favorite, easy dish for all to enjoy.  The woman did not take into consideration her numerous distraction on the farm where they now live.  She started out with a smile filling the metal pot with water.  A warm breeze was flowing through all of the open windows and doors.  She could hear her daughters playing joyfully outside.  She placed the pot of water on the gas stove, added about a tablespoon of salt (as you do with noodles), turned the flame to the appropriate height, and went about her chores.

This is where her distaste of cooking comes into play.  While she was going about her chores, cleaning, laundry, checking on the animals and kids;  the pot continued to boil.

  • It boiled till it was a rolling boil.
    • It boiled until there was no water left in the pot.
      • It boiled until it melted all over the stove.

She and the girls all saw the smoke billowing out of the kitchen.  She told them to stay put as she ran in to find the disaster.  To this day, this beautiful, warm, touching family moment is shared amongst siblings during any moment of childhood recollections and laughter abounds.

flaming-pan-on-stove

(This picture gives you an idea – sort of – it did not flame, it just melted, caused a ton of smoke, and a huge mess.  We, unfortunately, do not have any pictures of that ordeal – this is the closest I could come to it.)

**********************************************************************

This second story is a bit of a history lesson.  During my high school years (mid to late 1970’s), we moved around a bit.  It was also the time that the “microwave oven” came out and was all the rage.  It can cook anything – ya, sure!  The reason I remember this historical fact is due to my mother and her cooking inabilities.

The only thing she really could do well was boil water (unless she got distracted).  This just happens to be the main necessity for noodles.  Thus, noodles were her specialty of meals.  Stoves were another thing of distrust.  Then came the microwave cooker!  Now, don’t let the name fool you as it did her.  She only caught the “cooker” part and began assuming (there is that darn “ass” word again-grr) that this new wonder of the world would be her savior.  This miracle of science would not turn her into some type of Julia Childs.  Ahh, such is the thing that dreams are made of!

Dad happily purchased one of the miracle workers for mom during our 2nd (maybe 3rd) move.  We were very strapped for cash, so a purchase of this kind had to be especially special.  Excited as mom was she could not wait to try her beloved noodles – so sad.

She read all the instructions so carefully, just as a normal female does (jab jab male species).  Took her time.  Obtained the appropriate container (this alone was a shocker).  Put in the correct amount of water and salt.  Added her noodles and put the wonder to work.  Approximately 20 minutes later we had a marvelous bowl filled with mush!

My amazing mother, the eternal optimist, tried again – and again – and again.  When she final got discouraged, Dad made supper and all was satisfied.  After this fiasco, she came to the conclusion that a microwave cooker was not for cooking any more than the stove was.  That moment on she swore to only use it to re-heat food, and thus it went.

She got so good at the re-heating part, that one year for Christmas my younger sister bought her a book called “101 Things to do with Ramen Noodles” – RAPTURE!  She was now going to be able to cook, and had a goal of making every single recipe in the book (which she did with great flare!).

         ramen-noodle-book   +   micrwave   ˭

valentine-heart-filled-with-hearts

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HOW TO SAVE MONEY AND NOT KNOW IT?

/ helbergfarmstories / 10 Comments

I found out a nice little secret idea. Forget about it! Yep, this is my secret to saving money. Here’s the story:
In 2014 most of you read that we had the house fire. During the months that followed, tons of wonderful people (a bunch that we didn’t even know?!) were sharing things with us. They gave us clothes, toys, furniture, money and gift cards. Well, we were getting so many gift cards that I had to come up with some type of organization system for them. Some needed to be used up immediately after the fire (clothes, grooming supplies, etc.) but some would not be used until we had our home back (food, namely for the pantry and freezer. My method was to put them all in a small metal box that a friend gave me for crafting. It was about the size of a 3×5 index card. I purchased an index card alphabet file and stuck it in the box. Now I could place each of the cards under the appropriate section – smart right…maybe?!

gift-cards

It has been almost three years since that fire. When I was cleaning some stuff up, I found the box. First instinct was to shake it (have no clue why I did that – duh!) and it made noise, so I opened it. The individual file cards were still in there, so I decided to check it one more time. SURPRISE….two Safeway grocery cards!! WOO HOO – even better was when I called on them to find out they had not lost any value! We started the first of our new year with $150 to spend on groceries – yea!!!
Once upon a time, I carried a Safeway savings card, but for the life of me could not find it now (figures). We got to the store and the first thing I did was sign up for a new card – machine was broken (figures again – yes, I am giggling at myself now). The nice lady in the booth did tell me that the card would work just fine but to try to register on the machine next time I come in. Now, I remember thinking to myself “Sure I will – not – I very seldom go to Safeway to shop since it is more expensive UNLESS you have their card – which I hate deeply!”
I took the card, caught up with my sister and grandson, and we continued to shop. The cart kept getting more and more full – got me a bit worried. We could not afford $300 worth of food at that moment and really did not need that much. Our last stop was at the deli at which point my sister and I decided; there was enough food in the cart to not hit up the deli.
Time for the damages!
My sister and grandson were unloading while I grabbed my new Club Card and the two gift cards. I also took out my checkbook waiting to see how bad the damages were. The cashier kept sliding foods; the little dinger kept dinging, the total kept growing on the screen. I had shown her the new club card and the two gift cards before she started, now she was asking for them.
She scanned the first – $50 off. Then the second $100 off. Then the club card…the dinger kept dinging. The noises stopped, and she announced to me:
“Your total is .75¢.”
I am sure the look on my face was shocking enough to scare a ghost – I thought I heard her wrong, so I said: “HOW MUCH?” (yes, my voice did get louder here!) To which she replied the same –
“Your total is .75¢.” (This time with a really big grin on her face!)
I stood there stunned for a moment, then glanced over at my sister who was now starting to giggle a bit. I calmly dug into my purse and pulled out a one dollar bill and handed it to the cashier. The gal waiting in line behind me leaned over and said: “Can I shop with you next time?” At this point, we were all laughing. Two more people behind her also requested to shop with me.
So now, the family pick-me-up motto for this year is “only 75 cents, ” and anytime we feel a bit stressed, one of us will look at the other, say “only 75 cents,” and start laughing! Over $200 worth of groceries for .75¢ – can’t beat that way to save!
Well, I have told my sister that I am going to try this for 2017 Christmas time. I am going to pick up a gift card (Walmart too) and every time I shop in that store, add $10-$20 to the card. Then just shove it back into my purse for “saving” purposes. I will try to remember to share with you, toward the end of this year, if this worked or not. Wish me luck! I don’t think it will be as nice a surprise as this Safeway visit was, but it may just make my Christmas shopping easier!
( I got the idea to share this story with you from a fellow blogger’s 2016 resolution: https://achatovercoffee.com/2016/12/31/new-years-goals-stash-some-cash/ She also has a pretty good sense of humor and shares some great ideas on her home improvements. Check her out if you get a minute!)
merry-christmas    to me in 2017???

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DO YOU HAVE ENOUGH DAYS IN YOUR MONTH?

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

Me – never enough! I always start out with the best of intentions – 1st of the month, I have plans, I have goals – FANTASTIC – I’m ready!! Then by about the 5th of the month (sometimes as early as the 2nd), the month figures out “Hee, hee, it’s Rachel trying to be organized again – let’s get her!” Then it all blows up.

silly-planner

puppy counts as baby!

This being a new year and the first month of the new year, silly me decided to make “better planning and organization” my main resolution for 2017. Very silly me! I swear that all my loved ones up in heaven are sitting around laughing at me and thinking up ways to mess up my plans. Pretty sure I heard one of them laughing just last night before bed!?
So these are my new resolutions for 2017:
1. No deadlines – at least none that I will state out loud. This way, not even I will know what I am doing until it is done!
2. No goals. Nope, not a one! I have tons in my head that I would love to see reached (read a book a week, make more cards, so they will be ready for the occasion instead of last minute rushing – easy right?), but I dare not share them out loud. Maybe I will try to sneak them into my nightly journal instead of actually “saying” them and see if the spies will leave them alone?
Simple right? Not!! It is already two weeks into the new year, and I have had to run around doing unexpected things since the very first day of the month. No planning, no way. The unexpected deep freeze caused a bunch of vehicle switching, and (of course) a new battery in my Subaru. It is the newest, nicest yet the battery is shot – only three years old?? Once replaced ($170 later – ouch) I realized that my sweet grandson was playing with the dope light (oops, sorry – dome light) over his seat and had it switched on. Exactly when he made these changes, hmmm, I guess about three months ago. Jerk! Funny how a little thing like that can completely ruin a car battery – grrr.
We have also received about 5 million (ok, not that much but it is more than 20) gardening/seed/plant catalogs just since the first. I am a bit relieved on this since, two years ago. They started sending them back before Halloween? Pretty sure that was a “duh” moment for them because most people tend to (I do) lose things over the holidays. Sending them out before the first of the year would be stupid – to me.

pic of pile of garden mags

Trying to figure out and map what we would like to grow and where this year has been a nightmare. My grandson (whom I have custody of) is ADHD/Autistic and has major abandonment issues. His mother is moving again. This started up all of his inner demons again, which just love to take out their anger on me.
You know, I have always considered myself pretty tough, tough skinned too; but when he starts falling apart, so do I. Trying to plan or organize anything during these moments is a challenge, to say the least. I did get him to help me for a while cleaning out his older books and toys. Then he got bored, and I had to finish on my own (sometimes that is best cuz I got to throughout some extra stuff. Oh, and we do not “throw” out, we actually give them to local charities). Then I switched to my craft room (total disaster due to the last minute Christmas card fiasco.) which, again, he loves to start helping but then gets bored and leaves stuff incomplete. Grandma picks up – but grandma’s getting tired of it now that he is eight years old!
My final woo hoo for the start of this month is our new addition – a boxer puppy. My sister has always wanted a boxer, and I just happened across a Facebook posting from a friend on a couple of babies his boxers had about Halloween. One of them was even brindle in color (her fav also), a boy (again fav), so we decided to get him. The current dog is wonderful. She was a pound hound and has done fabulously protecting me through the fire mess and my six consecutive surgeries. The problem with her was when we got her they told us she had bruised her foot – but should be fine in a little while. Three years later and she is worse. We believe she was hit by a car, left to heal on her own instead of being cared for by a vet, then dumped at the pound with lies on her well-being. She has been the most aggressive dog we have ever had. This is good and bad. Her aggression sometimes is too much, and it scares me. Anyway, she is doing worse. Can hardly get up on a warm day and almost not at all on a cold one. She is losing bladder control too, and I hate to see any animal suffer. So this was another reason for getting the puppy.
The timing for potty training a puppy could not have been worse! The big giant pansy (another of her favs) doesn’t want to go outside when it’s cold – boo hoo. So, I have been trying to do this on my own – ha ha. The gods are laughing at me really hard now! On the few 50+ degree days we have had, he will follow me outside, but refuses to be out there alone – great! Oh, and she got to name him. After several days deliberation and many ideas from friends, she shouted it out at him one morning when he was missing the potty pad…”You little Wiener Pig, knock it off!” So, his name is now officially Wiener Pig. Fully name if he is ok, just PIG when I get mad at him (most of the time). “Pig, get out of there. Pig stop it. Pig – NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!”
Can’t wait to see what wonders the rest of this year brings.

12-2-16-new-addition-to-family

Wiener Pig

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DON’T LOOK AT IT – DON’T LOOK AT IT – DON’T LOOK AT IT!

/ helbergfarmstories / 6 Comments

What is the first thing you do when you get into your vehicle to go somewhere. My habit is to turn on the radio.  Two reasons for this: 1) It sets my pace for the day – good music = great day. 2) To check who is singing and the name of the song, in case I want to buy it. See, I have this fun new car with fun new features. One of them is this great “info” dash reader. Here is a pic from this morning:

12-8-16-dash-info-14-degrees

So, here’s how the fun techno works.  The bottom is the name of the song – OK.  The middle is the singer or group – OK.  Above that is the radio station (KOSI plays 24/7 Christmas music starting about Thanksgiving) – OK.  Now the top line is where I need to “not” look.

My clock (says 8:15) is off.  I hate daylight savings time changes, and I always have to drag out my instruction manual to figure out how to make the stupid 1-hour changes twice a year…so I just don’t!  The time this morning was actually 7:15 a.m.

The top middle is how many miles I can drive before I run out of gas – I really like this one!  The cute little gas tank (every newer car has this one) tells me which side of the car my cap is on.  This is a good thing because our vehicles are different, and yes, sometimes I forget what I am driving.

The helpful yellow “I” tells me to check my “engine info.”  All I have to do is click a switch, and it tells me things like “low on washer fluid” which just so happens to be what it is trying to tell me now, but I am ignoring it.

Then we come to the culprit of my “don’t look” title – TEMPERATURE!  Yep, it says negative 12 degrees.  OOOUUUCCCHHH!!!  Now I love snow, so fun to play in and we can always use the moisture.  However, cold and I are no longer friends.  I expect that beastie to show up around February, but not in December.  Not here in the northeastern Colorado plains in December.  Our norm is around 35-65 depending on Mother Nature. Today I think Jack Frost has hog-tied Mom Nature just to remind me I have several fake joints (JERK!).

So, as of this morning, I am trying to train this “old dog” to do a new trick – Don’t Look, don’t look, don’t look at the dash in the morning.  Maybe I will make that in the winter?

I enjoy cooler weather much more than hotter weather; however, I draw the line at minus numbers. A crisp fall air, a couple of feet of snow – no big deal. But the negatives are just as bad as the over 80’s in the summer to me. Can only put so much extra on, or take so much off to help my body adjust. When it gets to these types of temps, I’m screwed all day.

I even thought I just stick a small piece of electrical or duct tape over that tiny area just to fool myself into believing it is not what it is. Maybe that will work?

laugh-so-hard-sign

(then they froze – LMAO!)

IT SHOULD START WITH ME – SHOULDN’T IT?

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

“It all trickles down from the top.”   “All Politicians are self-centered liars.”

“The bigger the company is, the less it cares about its employees.”

Sound familiar?  All too familiar for me.  I used to say all of that and more.  There was always someone or something else to blame for things that were happening to me.

Then, when I was about 30 years old, I realized something.  Something that really happened in my life which proved that all of this was wrong.

The man that caused me to lose my job, right after my disable daughter was born, got fired – and I was nowhere near him when it happened.  The truth gets even better:

My daughter was born with spina bifida and two clubfeet – they were both turned into her ankle and up toward her knees.

baby-w-club-feet

I worked as the Accounts Receivable Clerk for an automotive firm – great owner, rotten Office Manager.  The owner happened to be gone when I came back to work after giving birth.  I had made the following arrangements with a specialist to begin work on my daughter.

  • Every Tuesday morning, I would get up early, soak and remove her little casts (I used a steak knife to cut them off. I used to stick my finger between the cast and her leg to get it cut open – usually ran out of bandaids – ha ha).
  • The Doctor then agreed to take us in at 7:30 a.m. (not regular office hours) and edge/twist the feet down a bit more and recast.
  • This whole process meant that I was going to be about 30 minutes late for work every Tuesday.
  • I calculated that I could compensate for this by not taking a lunch break on those days.

The Office Manager (taking advantage of the fact that the owner was on vacation) told me “This is unacceptable, either you need to have someone else take care of your daughter, or we will have to replace your position.”  He knew I was a single mom and this was my only source of income. (I WILL NEVER FORGET THOSE WORDS!)

I looked him straight in the eyes, said “screw you” and walked out!

You can pull whatever you want with me, but NEVER USE MY CHILD to try to get at me.  The owner came back, called me in and asked me to come back.  We discussed many things (he was, by-the-way, an excellent family man), but I boiled it down to this: “Can you guarantee that the first time I have to call in sick to work because my child is sick, he will not try to pull this again?” He said no.  We both cried (yep – a real boss that cared about his employees!), and I left.

Postpartum kicked in, and I felt sorry for myself for about a week.  Then I found another job.  Through my mother got connected with Shriners for Children (what a Godsend they are!) to work with my daughter’s condition (I had no insurance, no money – all I had was great family support – sometimes that is all a person needs!), and got on with my life.

I had several very close friends that I left at that business, but they stayed in touch.  One was the Shop Manager.  One day, out of the blue, I received a call from him: “Want a job?”

He went on to tell me they finally found that the Office Manager had been embezzling from the company.  (I did leave a hint with him and the owner that it was unusual for an Office Manager not to have books up to date – this guy was ALWAYS 3-6 months behind…now there’s a hint!?!)  He was jailed, found guilty, lost his CPA license, had HUGE fines and reimbursements to pay, and last heard – was driving a cement truck.

oh-happy-day

The lesson that I learned that day was “EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON, ” and I live by this every day.  I did not cause the Jerk’s downfall; he did it to himself.  I was just lucky enough to hear about it from much loved friends.  Karma is a bitch!

Why am I telling you all of this?  Because of our wonderful 2016 election here in the USA.

I do not discuss politics or religion with family or friends because I love them.  Everyone is allowed their own opinions and just because I do not see eye-to-eye with you, should never mean that I do not like you!  This election is the worst I can ever remember regarding divisions.

I am on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Instagram, and Pinterest and have seen some awful mud-slinging going on in those social sites.  This, to me, is wrong!  I understand the following things:

  • We The People do not speak up enough on our level. We expect our elected local officials to carry our voices to Washington DC, yet somewhere along the way it gets lost.  Lobbyists, big corporations, or their own personal agendas override our voice.
  • ALL Politicians are in it for the money. Their golden parachute.  Do you know that they get to retire with the same income that they resign from the office with?  I did not know that great little factoid until I became a government worker – now that’s sad! (Note: I had a lower pee-on type government job so no parachute for me, not even a cloth one boo hoo!)
  • Few to no Politicians build their platforms on the good that they have done, and the good that they will do for we the people. Instead, they find all the faults in their opponents or feed you what you want to hear.  No intention of actually doing it.
  • The biggest reality – this all starts with “me!”

So this year I chose to be happy, to bring more joy into my life and the lives of those around me.  I chose to find more humor in everything that I can.  I did not remember this was an election year when I made this choice, but I’m glad I am trying.  This is my plan:

  1. Don’t believe any Politician ever again!
  2. Don’t simply sit back and let them bully me/us/we the people to get what “they” want.
  3. Take a stand every chance I get (right now it is the pipeline through the Indian Land in North Dakota ) Maybe “I” alone cannot do much, but bunches of “I’s” can do something together!
  4. Start at my local level to create change! We have issues with fracking waste water that they are trying to dump in our county – not on my watch!
  5. Push even harder to bring joy and laughter into every day.

calvin-n-hobbs-smile

So, what do you think of my 5-step plan? Are you laughing with/at me yet?  Sorry, I got a bit long in this one my wonderful Readers, but today is the day for “we” or at least “me” to start making changes. Stop blaming everyone and everything else and start taking the steps toward something better.

I think one of my long-term goals will be to find an honest attorney (ya, I know – is there such a creature?) that is willing to try to push a bill to get the “golden parachutes” stopped.  It will require the politicians to get a real job after they leave the government one, and retire the same way the rest of the nation has to – the same rate of income, same ups-and-downs connected to the stock market, and same medical insurance. (Now there’s the kicker!)  Wish me luck – or at least happy times while doing it!

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WELL, THIS WAS A FREAKIE-DEEKIE FIRST FOR ME!

/ helbergfarmstories / 6 Comments

Anyone with any type of outdoor yard or garden space should be able to relate to this. Freaky things you find in your gardens. I’m not just talking about bugs here! Check this beauty out:

odd-man-out-2

In a huge bush of yellow flowers blooms one wild card – a red one.  Same breed, just a different color.  So I think that old Mom Nature is smarter than us by a huge amount!  She doesn’t care what color it is, how big it grows, male or female; she only cares that it grows.

This plant/bush is HUGE.  It is another my sister started for me and my “dried flower experiments” (failing at that by the way – LMAO).  It has the benefit of growing up in a well-nurtured environment and has been living quite beautifully in the greenhouse (away from nasty hail and wicked winds).  This is my first freaky-deekie simply because it still simply astounds me how a flower of a different color can pop up totally unexpected in a single color batch.  Grant it, the yellow in here does have specs of red in them, but it is like this one went reverse on purpose – LOVE IT!!

Now my real freaker…the rosemary bush.  I have had rosemary growing and doing quite well in my greenhouse for about five years now.  I recently introduced a new plant in there about a year ago.  Both are doing beautifully.  Huge, dark green, lush, and smelling of Christmas trees (every chance I get I run my hand through the bush – just cuz the smell makes me happy!).

Now I don’t know tons about rosemary, just what I have been experiencing but this one blew me away.  I went to pick some fresh broccoli and, of course, had to go past my rosemary and SURPRISE:

flowers-on-rosemary-1       flowers-on-rosemary-2-3

BLUE FLOWERS???? WHAT’S UP WITH THAT?? This is the younger/newer bush also. The older, more established has never had flowers! I have taken cuttings off of it, started new plants for many friends – but again, never flowers. AND – the flowers do not have a scent? It may be the rosemary scent is so strong that I can’t smell anything else, or it maybe they would be embarrassed to try to upstage the pine smell?

Whatever the reason is for their appearance, I don’t care. I still think rosemary is one of my favorite plants/herbs. I don’t use it for a ton of things, but the fact that it makes me think of Christmas every time I am near it I just love it!

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if everyone could have a small rosemary plant in their home? Then instead of wanting to get into arguments, we could all smell that beautiful herb, think of the holidays, and just feel comfort in the joy of company. (Ok, it’s cloudy/rainy here again and I get this way on these types of days – moody to the hilt – LOL!! Hope you enjoyed my little trip!)

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OH NO – NOT ANOTHER COOL DAD STORY?

/ helbergfarmstories / 4 Comments

To properly explain this one, I am going to have to write you a picture:

  • Two sisters, one about four the other about six.
  • It is early1960’s in Wisconsin.
  • Our farm is several miles from the nearest major highway, so a trip is required for everything.
  • The main road: County Trunk W.
  • The type of road: 2-lane, HUGE hills (cannot see the other side until you are on top of them type hills).
  • And so our story begins:

It is a beautiful fall day.  The leaves are either turning or falling, and this part of Wisconsin has such an amazing variety of trees that you are awestruck by colors.  The air is crisp, even in the mid-afternoon.  Dad decides we have to go to the grocery store in Adell (not the closest city, but a larger selection) to pick up some stuff.  We are taking the farm truck (I have no clue year, make or model – have to ask my older sister since she totaled it – but that’s another story).  No seatbelts (neither in it or required to have it- go figure?).

Dad grabs the girls and throws them into the front seat of the truck, then slides in on the driver’s side and starts her up.  Varoom, rumble, rumble, rumble (yes, this is how an old farm pickup truck sounds) and off we go.

From the end of our driveway, you turn onto County Trunk W and go east toward Adell.  We sit at the top of a hill, so the start is fun picking up speed on the way down.  Now remember, it is early 1960’s so cops really didn’t look for speeders on all the county roads (most of them were still gravel anyway – now ours.)

Down the hill, up a smaller one, and over – picking up some more speed.  Down again, up again, down again; this continues for about five or six miles, and THERE IT IS – SKUNK HILL.  The reason for the name is because of all the dead skunks on it.  You cannot see over to the other side, so there is no time to slow down.

  • Once over,
    • you see it,
      • it’s dead – and
        • your car/truck will stink for a month

It was the tallest hill around.  Dad was beatin feet to get up that puppy.  Hit the top and it happened, up we went off the seat into the air!  Squeals of joy and laughter rung out!  Dad was laughing even harder at us and our excitement just over a jump on a hill.  Great joy in the little things.  The laughter did not stop for another 3 or so miles until we got to the store.

NOW, some of you will be seeing the danger here.

Some of you will be seeing bad parenting here.

But some of you, just some of you will see this:

calvin-n-hobbes-laughing

  silly-minion-1

silly-minions-2

farm-dad-1

     great-dad2

Our parents were great!  Loving, funny, caring, sharing, encouraging, outstanding.  So please do not judge too harshly the decade we grew up in because it was all good. 

They were not rich, but our lives were.  If I could, I would wish that all children would have at least a couple of summers, and maybe a few falls, on a farm.

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How Cool is Your Dad?

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Our dad was AWESOME (yes, you must sing the last word here!)!  Our parents were outstanding but in completely different ways.  It took the two of them to create we three monster sisters, but this story is about Dad.

Fall brings back more memories of Dad than Mom.  He kept the farm rolling.  He worked a full-time job in Milwaukee, at the same time carried a full-time job working our 80-acre farm.  That’s a lot of working and a lot of stress.  The amazing part is he always found time for us.  He included us in all parts of the farm.

In Wisconsin, we had to do a chore every spring called “picking rock” – yes, we hand picked up large rocks in the fields.  This had to be done before the plows could come through or they would cause major damage to the equipment.  My little sister was about 4-years old when she was initiated.

pushing-boulder-up-hill

We had this great little gray Massey Ferguson tractor.  It was the littlest one on our farm and a perfect fit for little girls.  Dad hooked up one of the flatbed trailers to the tractor, lifted us three girls up on the flatbed, and out to the fields we went.

Once in the field, Dad put the youngest (only four remember) into the driver’s seat, tied a wooden block to her gas pedal foot, put the tractor in the lowest gear and off she started.  My older sister, I, and my dad then would walk the field alongside the trailer finding, picking up, and loading all the rocks about softball size and up onto the wagon.  Easy right?  WRONG!

The best thing our parents gave us is our sense of humor; it is also the worst.  The baby sister and I were always at each other; it was our “thing.”  She now had a perfect advantage.  It all started out innocent enough, scooting along in the tractor.  Nice and smooth, slow and steady.  If we had a fairly big rock her job was to stop until we had it loaded (Yep – here it comes).

She did her job perfectly with Dad.  Just as well with our eldest sister.  Then there was me.  First, it started out as it should, moving along, picking up and loading rocks.  Then she saw me pick up a rock that was obviously very heavy and awkward for me.

She stopped the wagon.

Waited for me to get right up to it to set down the rock.

Then purposely bolted ahead so I could not set down the rock (little jerk)!

What made matters worse for me, was Dad laughing.  Our older sister joined in, and I was once again the brunt of the joke.  The more they laughed, the more she did it, the angrier I became – which made them all laugh harder.

dont-throw-rocks-sign  (or little sisters)

Dad would eventually compose himself and reprimand baby sister – sort of.  She would be good for a while, then start back up again.  This became the family ritual every rock picking season.  Funny how a person can get used to good-hearting ribbing, but others will call it a form of abuse.  To me, it was just normal family fun farm stuff.

3-sister-stones

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FARM KIDS AND FLYING HAY.

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

We had an 80-acre farm in Wisconsin that grew veggies for canning for winter food.  We also grew wheat, corn, and hay for the winter critters.  We raised beef cattle, had horses for fun, and a 4-H project with rabbits that got way out of control but filled the freezers with meat for a year (that’s another story).

One of my fondest memories growing up was of making hay.  Now before you panic, let me explain.  These were the old, small bales, the ones that usually weighed between 50-80 pounds and a normal adult could pick up and throw around.  This process became a family tradition.

We were the family with all the land and all the equipment, so when it came time to doing something like making hay, it was an extended family event.  Cousins, Aunts, Uncles and even some close family friends would be involved.  The parents and older kids worked the fields, while the kids got to work up in the haystack in the barn (I know, we were ripped off!).  The lower starting levels were not bad; but as the stack grew and the gap between the top of the hay and the top of the barn got smaller, the heat got more intense.  I don’t remember anyone passing out, but I also do not remember anyone coming out of there dry.

hay-baler-pic

(This is close to what ours was like, except back then there were no side racks, the hay came off the baler and we pulled it onto the wagon and stacked it.  The wheels were also up front and in back instead of in the middle)

The only major issue I remember is at the end of one season; the kids were allowed to go out and ride the last wagon of hay back (huge praise for our kid work).  My dad’s brother, Uncle Vern, was the tractor driver that day.  The wagon was full, we were all on top, and he was cruising back to the house.

The road from the hay field to the barn had only one stop.  The problem was it was at an intersection that sat at the bottom of a very steep hill (appropriately there also happened to be an old cemetery right across the street from where we had to stop – a very spooky cemetery!).  Well, Uncle Vern knew how bad this intersection was so he had been watching the top of the hill as we approached.  Instead of coming to a complete stop Uncle stood up, looked both ways one more time and then gunned the tractor.   (Everyone hated that turn because you couldn’t see anyone coming until they were already over the hill and just about on that intersection…this is why I said the cemetery was: appropriately placed there – eeek!).  He started the turn, was going a bit too fast, the hay on the wagon was not tied down (ya, no one even thought to do it back then), and we all tipped over!  The hay and the kids flew.  The tractor and, surprisingly, the wagon remained on their wheels.

UNCLE VERN STOPPED!

Parents from the house were watching from the top of the hay barn and saw us all fly.  Immediately they came rushing down the hill to help.  One group stopped traffic up by our driveway on the top of the hill.  Another group went to stop traffic in the other directions.  The rest ran to our aid.  You should have seen their faces.

NO ONE WAS HURT – NOT EVEN A SCRATCH, AND WE WERE LAUGHING!

 calvin-n-hobbes-laughing

Yep, crazy farm kids, had a blast flying off the top of the bales into the ditch.  It was grassy and semi-soft.  We were on the top of the stacked bales, so nothing landed on top of us, and besides; we all had jumped from greater heights inside the barn into the straw pile.  We thought it was fun – scary, but fun.  Later, eventually, so did our parents.

hay-wagon-pic

(This is very close to what it looked like before the dump.  The bales were stacked the same way, only add one more top row – 5 high – and we sat on top.) Ahhh,  childhood memories!

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