June on the Farm

Gravel roads, bike rides, cool water, the trusty sprinkler, picnics and grandma’s salads, Old Dutch chips, fireflies, bible camp, babysitting, teen beat, lollies, and boys. These are just some of my memories of summers on the farm. Oh how I remember wanting to go camping but that was out of the question. Camping was not something my parents were ever going to have the inclination to do. So, we improvised. I would throw blankets over the clothes lines and crawl in and lay there and watch the reflections of bugs and bees fly over my “tent.” I loved the thought of sleeping outside with all the kittens, our dog, frogs, and all the birds. Why, I’d be right there with the fireflies. ✨

I waited all year for summer to come. Oh how I dreaded school. As the month of May would wind down so would my angst at school be replaced with daydreams. Boys, bike riding, chasing fireflies, walking the valley, hanging with the neighbor kids, picnics, easy times, and best of all gardens of flowers in bloom all over our farm. Don’t let me forget to mention the strawberry bed and the first tomato or walking barefoot everywhere and trips to town. First stop Rexall drug and the magazine racks for me. I would save all my babysitting money and pray there was a new Tiger Beat out that week.✨

Summer time meant more time to read, earn money, and reinvent myself for the next school year. The first picnic would be for Dad’s birthday in June. As I type this post it is his birthday. Ah, I wonder if anyone celebrates birthdays in heaven. He’s been gone almost twenty-five years now. Grandma, his mother, always wanted to have a picnic for him. Eventually we bought a picnic table and there on after a picnic we had. Grandma and her strawberry jello with fresh strawberries and cool whip, Mom and her Old Dutch chips and at the last minute grabbing a couple cans of root beer and 7-up so Dad could have a cool drink once he was done with chores. Summer time was sitting in the crook of an old tree and day dreaming the afternoon away or walking into the woods to bird song and finding a cool place to lie down in the grass. ✨

Whippoorwills at night in the tree by our bedroom with peepers and big fat frogs croaking in the pond across the street.  Summer time was the best time of the whole year on our farm every single day. Whether it was the smell of freshly mowed hay or green chop, the anticipation of the first peony, first strawberry, first green bean, or the summer storms that would have us sitting on our screened in front porch laughing at the loud claps of thunder and smelling summer rains. Oh, how I miss being a kid growing up in the 70’s living on my family’s farm.✨

Nothing compares to the innocent times of childhood where a simple storm, a favorite magazine, an afternoon stroll, hot dogs for lunch, the treat of a cone from A&W on a Sunday afternoon, or watching Dad come flying down the hill on his old John Deere, standing up, letting the cool breeze blow through his overalls happy to be hauling the last load of hay home for the day. Simple times, beautiful memories, cherished days. Summers on the farm.✨

🐝kind be well, until next time