You've heard of Centennial Farms? Those farms that have been in the same family and in operation for 100+ years. When I see or hear those words, it makes me kind of sad for our family and here's why:
In the mid-1930's or so, (based on family oral history that I've heard since I was a child) my maternal grandparents, Jim and Irene, purchased a 200 acre farm in North Dakota. This 200 acre farm was my grandmother's dream. I'm not sure if it was my grandfather's dream, he never said. But I knew it was my grandmother's dream, because her eyes would light up each time she spoke about their farm.
My grandfather was 11 years older than my grandmother. He was born to a farming family on November 11, 1899. Grandma was born on August 15, 1910 to a farming family that had moved into town. Her mother owned a small cafe where Grandma worked. The first time my grandfather laid eyes on my grandma, he said, "She was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. She was standing in field and the sun was shining through her hair." She was 19 and he was 30.
They got married, moved from rental farm to rental farm, had babies. Finally, with the bank's help, they were able to purchase a 200 acre farm with a five bedroom farm house. For four consecutive years grandfather planted a crop. Not one time out of those four years was he able to bring in a cash crop. It was either droughts, grasshoppers or bad seed that prevented a profitable harvest. In the fifth year, doing what farmer's do best, grandfather diligently planted a crop. It would be the last crop that he planted on his land, by the time it was ready to harvest, the bank repossessed their farm. According to my grandparents the final crop that my grandfather planted, would have paid for their farm. By then they had packed up their six children and moved from the farm in North Dakota to a mill town in Idaho. Both grandparents worked in the mill for almost 20 years.
For the remainder of his life, my grandfather did not trust men who wore suits. Forty years later, when my grandmother would be talking about the old farm, the light in her eyes would go from bright to sad. She would actually get tears in her eyes and say, "I don't want to talk about it!" This was when I would visit she and my grandfather in their run down single wide trailer parked on my uncle's property.
So, what brought us to farming? Doug and I were living on 5 acres, kids graduated from high school, brand new mobile home. Gardening for ourselves and a few friends. Looking at retirement, commuting to work. La la la, skippy, skippy. We're happy. When BAM! Just like that, our lives changed. In 2003, while driving through the neighborhood, drinking a mocha, Doug said, "We've never been down this road before. Let's see what's down here." Oh, my gosh! I will never forget those words ... boy, we HAD never been down this road before! There was a FOR SALE sign, the dirt still damp around the post, on this property that had this BIG, HUGE old red barn! The barn had a gambrel roof, oh, my gosh, there was love in both our eyes! We wanted that acreage and most of all we wanted that barn! So, it was like it had been all planned out for us ... the timing was perfect! So, that's how we ended up on our farm.
And truthfully, after this 2010 season, we understand the devastation (the word 'stress' just isn't strong enough) that they must have gone through during those four years. It's one thing to hear the stories, it's completely another to actually live it! Imagine trying to figure out how you're going to feed six hungry mouths. (That explains the goose grease sandwiches that my mom would carry to school in an old lard can or my unlce Fred's embarassment when he had to wear my grandmother's shoes to school.)
So, when we say to people, "We're living the dream." Yes, we are living our dream; theirs and ours. A BIG connection between the two dreams is we now understand WHY they had the dream of farming. It's about the fresh air, the wind and rain, hearing the birds sing, feeling a sense of accomplishment in knowing that you can raise food on a commercial level.
If you think about it, there are several significant differences between our beginnings and my grandparents' beginnings. We were older when we began farming, in our 40's and 50's, our children were raised and our farming is a secondary income. Having farming as a secondary income relieves the pressure of a slow or failed season, because as long as one of us has a job away from the farm we can still make our land payments. (Or live in a storage container that we are thinking about buying.:)
My grandparents have both passed on now, but I would have liked to have had them over for a visit. They could have sat in chairs, my grandfather drinking coffee so strong that you could stand a spoon up in it, and watched us work. All the while talking about how they used to do it. Admiring our hula hoes and saying how they never had that handy tool when they were in the fields. Or the weeds were so strong in their day that you could get a hernia trying to pull them out. (Uh, I don't think that's changed!)
In the mid-1930's or so, (based on family oral history that I've heard since I was a child) my maternal grandparents, Jim and Irene, purchased a 200 acre farm in North Dakota. This 200 acre farm was my grandmother's dream. I'm not sure if it was my grandfather's dream, he never said. But I knew it was my grandmother's dream, because her eyes would light up each time she spoke about their farm.
My grandfather was 11 years older than my grandmother. He was born to a farming family on November 11, 1899. Grandma was born on August 15, 1910 to a farming family that had moved into town. Her mother owned a small cafe where Grandma worked. The first time my grandfather laid eyes on my grandma, he said, "She was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. She was standing in field and the sun was shining through her hair." She was 19 and he was 30.
They got married, moved from rental farm to rental farm, had babies. Finally, with the bank's help, they were able to purchase a 200 acre farm with a five bedroom farm house. For four consecutive years grandfather planted a crop. Not one time out of those four years was he able to bring in a cash crop. It was either droughts, grasshoppers or bad seed that prevented a profitable harvest. In the fifth year, doing what farmer's do best, grandfather diligently planted a crop. It would be the last crop that he planted on his land, by the time it was ready to harvest, the bank repossessed their farm. According to my grandparents the final crop that my grandfather planted, would have paid for their farm. By then they had packed up their six children and moved from the farm in North Dakota to a mill town in Idaho. Both grandparents worked in the mill for almost 20 years.
For the remainder of his life, my grandfather did not trust men who wore suits. Forty years later, when my grandmother would be talking about the old farm, the light in her eyes would go from bright to sad. She would actually get tears in her eyes and say, "I don't want to talk about it!" This was when I would visit she and my grandfather in their run down single wide trailer parked on my uncle's property.
So, what brought us to farming? Doug and I were living on 5 acres, kids graduated from high school, brand new mobile home. Gardening for ourselves and a few friends. Looking at retirement, commuting to work. La la la, skippy, skippy. We're happy. When BAM! Just like that, our lives changed. In 2003, while driving through the neighborhood, drinking a mocha, Doug said, "We've never been down this road before. Let's see what's down here." Oh, my gosh! I will never forget those words ... boy, we HAD never been down this road before! There was a FOR SALE sign, the dirt still damp around the post, on this property that had this BIG, HUGE old red barn! The barn had a gambrel roof, oh, my gosh, there was love in both our eyes! We wanted that acreage and most of all we wanted that barn! So, it was like it had been all planned out for us ... the timing was perfect! So, that's how we ended up on our farm.
And truthfully, after this 2010 season, we understand the devastation (the word 'stress' just isn't strong enough) that they must have gone through during those four years. It's one thing to hear the stories, it's completely another to actually live it! Imagine trying to figure out how you're going to feed six hungry mouths. (That explains the goose grease sandwiches that my mom would carry to school in an old lard can or my unlce Fred's embarassment when he had to wear my grandmother's shoes to school.)
So, when we say to people, "We're living the dream." Yes, we are living our dream; theirs and ours. A BIG connection between the two dreams is we now understand WHY they had the dream of farming. It's about the fresh air, the wind and rain, hearing the birds sing, feeling a sense of accomplishment in knowing that you can raise food on a commercial level.
If you think about it, there are several significant differences between our beginnings and my grandparents' beginnings. We were older when we began farming, in our 40's and 50's, our children were raised and our farming is a secondary income. Having farming as a secondary income relieves the pressure of a slow or failed season, because as long as one of us has a job away from the farm we can still make our land payments. (Or live in a storage container that we are thinking about buying.:)
My grandparents have both passed on now, but I would have liked to have had them over for a visit. They could have sat in chairs, my grandfather drinking coffee so strong that you could stand a spoon up in it, and watched us work. All the while talking about how they used to do it. Admiring our hula hoes and saying how they never had that handy tool when they were in the fields. Or the weeds were so strong in their day that you could get a hernia trying to pull them out. (Uh, I don't think that's changed!)
So what if our Whispering Winds Farm in Stanwood, WA, won't be a Centennial Farm ... we'll be leaving a legacy that honors my grandparents, current farmers and anyone who dreams of owning a farm and getting back to the land.
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