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BDKay's avatar

I remember, as a young boy in the 70's, going to my grandfather's farm on weekends and walking through the environs of cows, pigs, horses, and chickens. That world (and its fragrance) is embedded in my memory and is a fond one. So different from the sterilized world of the suburbs. I often think I was born 150 years too late. Farm life would have suited me fine.

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Larissa Phillips's avatar

You are very blessed to have those memories. I host visitors from all over the world (now New Yorkers) who bring their kids to my farm because of their own memories of a grandparent’s farm. You’re all the last of your kind, the grandchildren of farmers.🙌

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BDKay's avatar

Actually, my grandfather owned but did not actively operate the farm. There was a family of tenant farmers who lived there and worked it. The Ewens were like our extended family going back to the 1930’s when my grandparents purchased the land. Knowing people well who worked and lived the land and supported themselves through it was (as you affirm) a HUGE blessing to me, my siblings, and my cousins. In retrospect it is very clear that my grandparents and parents purposefully exposed us to that life and its people as part of our education. The days we labored together with them were lessons I’ll never forget. Their relentless work ethic and quietly matter-of-fact spirit taught me character and gave me a deep respect for them. I mourn how far removed people are from that world today. I am definitely blessed. My kudos, Larissa, for what you do with those kids. This father of five (and grandparent of five, so far) would love that job!

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Larissa Phillips's avatar

Amazing.

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Katie Marquette's avatar

I had the same experience when the kids of a former coworker came to visit the donkeys we had at the time... The stepped in the barn - home to horses, cats, donkeys, etc. - and it was the MANURE - that they just couldn't get over! I was so surprised. We are talking about some usual unmucked stalls in the morning, nothing crazy, and my little kids help muck stalls everyday (and play in hay, straw, and yes, have picked up manure whoops, no problem).

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Larissa Phillips's avatar

Right?! So crazy.

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Heather Carpenter Epstein's avatar

There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of having mucked out a stall.

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James O'Reilly's avatar

Poop level: passed.

Up next? Banding the cows.

On a separate note, this post reminds me of Wendell Berry's commentary (in The Unsettling of America) on the pros of reintegrating manure within farm ecology.

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Larissa Phillips's avatar

We've banded some rams, but I have not tried it with kids!

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James O'Reilly's avatar

I think banding any animals would traumatize even most adults, so fair enough!

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Mark Breza's avatar

Poetical it is soil that feeds the ground,

that feeds the plants that feed us .

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Sue marasciulo's avatar

Love the poop stories! Another great read, Larissa. Thank you! Sue

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Brigid LaSage's avatar

All so true! We've been homesteading with chickens, goats, barn cats and farm dogs for 7 years now and have never been healthier or happier. BTW Larissa I think your farm needs a Mini Nubian buckling or three.😊

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Boston Bria's avatar

Thanks for unsanitizing young worldviews! And the myths in the minds of youngsters as to how meat gets to their plate. They will thank you and remember, and hopefully teach their own.

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Mark Breza's avatar

Has anybody ever thought about improving the labor work force

by installing a betting system

like they have in sports ?

Of course like them U would

still have to pay the Losers

but the money pool

& transparency would be a

Stimulus to create.

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