The Rural Voice, 1980-03, Page 16Keith Roulston
The best
and the
worst of times
Mid winter is a strange time on the farm.
It can be the best of times and the worst of
times.
Growing up on a farm I remember both
those best and worst times. I remember the
worst times most. I remember the agony of
putting a bare foot on a bare floor in the
morning when the woodstoves had burned
out and the house temperature was only a
few degrees above the outside temper-
ature. Today that problem is eliminated in
nearly every farm home with the use of oil
furnaces. In these days of energy conserv-
ation there are many who are turning back
to wood as a heat source, but not many
farmers. They have too vivid memories of
wood heating to foresake the luxuries of
central heating.
I remember too the long slug up the
snow -clogged lane every day of the winter
(I can hardly forget since quite a few days
every winter I still have to make that trip at
my new home.) The advent of the
snowblower has changed all that. It has
revolutionized winter in the country,
allowing the large farm operations we have
today. Can you imagine huge bulk milk
operations without the snowblower to allow
access up farm lanes with ease? How about
feed deliveries by large trucks without the
farmer being able to blow the lane open at
a moment's notice. And of course it would
be difficult to enjoy oil heating if it wasn't
possible for the oil truck to get in the lane
for several feet of snow.
I remember winter too as hard work. The
barn was full of animals and unfortunately
animals have this habit of making a mess
that they expect people to clean up. I
remember long hours of slugging behind
the cows and through the muck of a pig pen
and pushing a wheel barrow along a plank
to the top of the ever-growing manure pile.
Things have changed there too of course.
Today the farmer probably only has to
scrape the manure across his pig pen to the
gutter carrying it to the large liquid
manure tank. If he doesn't use a liquid
manure system he probably has a stable
cleaner that quickly whisks away the
manure on a conveyor to the manure pile
PG. 14 THE RURAL VOICE/MARCH 1980
outside.
Some things never change I guess. I
remember the fun of going to the barn and
finding a water pipe frozen while dozens of
thirsty animals waited. Usually before it
was over enough heat was generated from
the language used to thaw out the pipe
without the use of a blow torch. I
understand from talking to my neighbours
such things still happen the freezing, I
mean. Of course today's modern farmers
would never use such language.
Despite all the hard work involved in
winter in the old days on the farm I tend to
remember winter fondly. Despite the fact
that winter was once a time when people
living in our part of the world actually had
to worry about just surviving the harsh
climate winter was a time of security for us,
a time to reap the benefits from all the hard
work of the previous summer. There was a
woodshed full of wood so we were secure in
the knowledge that we would be warm for
the rest of the winter. There was a cellar
full of jam and preserves and stored fruits
and vegetables to keep us in food so that
we didn't have to worry about starving if a
big storm blew in off Lake Huron. The hay
and straw mows were full and the granary
had a supply of feed to last the winter. It
was a time free of the worry about too
much heat to ruin the crops, too much rain
to rot them. It was a time to rest up from
last year and plan for next.
It was a time of beautiful dreaming.
planning what fields would be planted with
what crops next year. Long hours were
spent dreaming of building a neve herd. or
renovating the barn to make it more
efficient. It was a time of optimism.
And winter never seemed so long that
summer wasn't far away. Even before the
days of cashcropping that left farmers free
to go south in the winter we had an escape
no town or city person had from the worst
wintry blasts. It happened every morning
and every night down at the barn. Down
from the mow would cone hay and straw to
feed and bed the animals and with it the
stored up scents of summer, still very
much alive in February. No perfume or
aftershave can match that aroma.
There was another joy then too, one I
still feel in mid -winter on my own little
place when I go out to my henhouse. It's
the joy of just standing in the warmth of the
barn, watching and listening to the
animals. Chore time can take a long time
when you're in that mood.
Times change. Many of the worst things
about winter on the farm are gone.
Farming has changed so much that it's not
like the farming I knew as a kid. I hope
those good times aren't gone though.
for cleaner, more economical,
trouble-free miles
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