Farm Friend Friday - My Farm Family

Now that we are living on our farm, I can always depend upon clearing my mind while caring for the horses and being outside.  Cleaning two stalls is a snap, tidying up the barn, washing water buckets, feeding and caring for the horses, barn cats and deer are treasured tasks that I love completing.  All are easy for me to do and I enjoy doing them. But my farm work is not hard, my life doesn't depend upon the outcome of my labors.  And my mind, well, I find my thoughts wander back in the day....to the days where real farm work was done.  To the times where your body ached from non stop activity that lasted easily into 10-16 hour long days no matter if you were a man or a woman.

Fred Neal walking in Elijah's hay field.  Fred would summer at Elijah's farm and that is how my Grampy and Grammy met....they knew eachother since they were babies.

Young Floyd Fuller tending to his cows in Warren, VT

I am blessed to share the blood of real farmers.  Vermont farmers to be specific. Dairy cows, draft horses, driving horses, chickens, etc.  Those were the days when horses were the machines.  Big beautiful powerful cold blooded horses.  My grandfathers (maternal and great) were excellent horse trainers though Elijah was the special one, the human who's gifts exceeded the norm.

The Elijah and Harriet Fuller family

What a sense of humor!

I love to gaze at their photos. I love to wonder about all of their accomplishments. Oh, how I wish I could talk with all of them.  Hattie, how many pies did you have to make each day when hay harvest time came and you had to single handily feed your husband, your four boys plus the working men for noon dinner?   Elijah, how did you learn about medicinal plants, and cures for the horses and cows. How did you get to be sought out by your community when the local vet was unsuccessful?  And that horse's leg that was broken, where in the world did you get the idea to hoist him in a sling to keep weight off his healing bone? It didn't matter how hard my great grandparents worked on their farm, they found time for others.  They both were sought out in the community for helping the sick horses (Elijah) and sick humans (Hattie).  Hattie would have been considered a nurse in today's world.  Off she would go in her horse and buggy down the long winding Fuller hill and into the town of Warren to help those in need.

Hattie wrote on the back of this pic that 'she looked mean but the sun was shining so brightly'.

My great Aunt Anna, Gena Davis Neal's sister.  Anna loved her chicken babies and her french bull dogs.

Thankfully my grandfather was still alive as I reached adulthood and his descriptions of life as a farm boy have been recorded by the Vermont Cultural Center.  One such story I do remember were the dances he so loved to attend.  He was a talented fiddle player and was part of the instrumental group providing the music which allowed him a tiny bit of spending money.  One evening he played until the dances ended at 3:30 in the wee hours! He never made it to bed and went directly to the barn to begin the long process of hand milking since he had a change of clothes.  I think I remember him saying he didn't dare go into the house for fear of waking his parents and catching hell.  He always laughed and said he would never pull that trick again!  

Baby Floyd Fuller who played the violin all his life with brother Claron who didn't play...funny.

Grammy and Grampy Fuller

My sister and I love to reminisce of our childhood days spent visiting our grandparents while vacationing in Randolph, Vermont. Grammy always had beautiful flower and vegetable gardens.  She baked donuts for us in the mornings and delicious hot meals at noon.  We thought it was very strange to eat dinner during the day and lunch in the evenings.   I remember her working on her braided rugs. Thankfully I have a couple and a part of her lives with me in our home.  She was so talented at decorating for Christmas and to this day we wonder where all those lovely treasures have disappeared to...sigh...those were the days!

Elijah Fuller family with Fred Neal family.  Young Floyd Fuller and young Gertrude Neal sitting down.  Wonder what they would have thought at that time had someone told them they would be marry as adults?

Neal family during harvest time.

These are my some of my favorite images. I see pride in their eyes, strength in their bodies, and a love and zest for their lives.  I am very proud to be a part of my farm family and thinking of them and how hard they worked is a wonderful way to clear my mind and set things straight.  Not that things are so crooked and clogged up there, but you know what I mean!  ;~)



Grammy with Lady in 1951. Grampie had just purchased the mare from the Hewitts.

Now its time to blog hop and join Farm Friend Friday, click on the button and find some new friends!

Cows, Cows, Cows!

While in Vermont, I was in my glory! I got to pet both shy and friendly cows. They were beautiful and just by watching them a bit, I was able to determine which one was the boss cow. I couldn't resist photographing these huge beasts. I learned that they can move very fast if they choose. One day, Bossy decided to show her stuff and tell the black and white cow that she could no longer be petted by the 'visitor'. So, Oreo (my name for the black and white one) knew she was coming and attempted to get the first kick in but that was not a good idea. Bossy put her head under Oreo's utters and shoved her away. Ouch! These cows are preggy too! So, Oreo went up the hill to lick her wounds under a tree despite my reprimands to Bossy. Bossy then pushed Strawberry up the hill as well...The next day, the red and white spotted cow (Strawberry) moooed at me when we got out of the car as I told them all 'hello!' That was amazing. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I do not know cows at all. Jess and Blue always give a friendly 'neigh' and talk frequently to their Mama....

HI LADY! COME PET US AND SCRATCH BEHIND OUR EARS!

UGH, OH! HERE COMES BOSSY!

LEAVE US ALONE! WE WEREN'T DOING ANYTHING WRONG.....

DON'T YOU TEST ME, YOU YOUNG WHIPPERSNAPPER!

YOU GET UP UNDER THAT TREE...NOW!

YOU GET UP UNDER THAT TREE TOO!

NOW BOTH OF YOU STAY UNDER THAT TREE!

Strawberry (the moo cow) ended up being the most friendly. I was able to give her a few neck massages while she stood very still reaping the pleasant rewards. Notice Bossy giving me a disapproving look!

LADY, MY COWS ARE NOT TO BE SPOILED! I HEAR YOUR ANIMALS ARE ROTTEN!

Cream Puff, the white one, was very hesitant but would get close enough listen to my silly cow talk. She allowed me to scratch her head one time. She didn't look pregnant. maybe she is younger and the others would have pushed her away...wonder why she doesn't look as boney as the others...

My sis and I noticed circular sores on their knees and asked Mom but she had no clue what that was about as Grampie's cows didn't have sores on their bodies. There were hundreds of flies on their backs too. I do know they have those fly spray fabric rolls that they can brush under but maybe that is not the 'organic' thing to do...have no clue! I swished away the pesky ones near their eyes during their petting sessions. I probably would not be a very good farmer, but it was great fun to get up close to these amazing and gentle creatures! Miss you, cows!!!

The Old Biddy Trip

I am now an official 'old biddy' at my young age. This insulting title was given to me by the 'bad' husband upon my very generous invitation to join my mother, my sister and me for a nice vacation in Vermont. No thought was put into his answer, no sugary declines escaping from fake smiles, just several firm no's, accompanied with one outright and outrageous insult given to me upon the first invite renaming our vacation to an 'Old Biddy Trip'! Of all things!!!! : )

The bad husband feared he could not endure being surrounded by too much estrogen. He envisioned afternoon teas with little old ladies in big old houses, since there were no known species of his type to hang with and he was almost right. Daddy, Uncle Beanie and Grampie are all gone, but there were no teas! So, I guess it was a good decision in the long run though it was difficult to be without him. He would have been truly lost as there was no working television to fill his news and baseball addictions. I must admit, I really missed my internet!

The 1600+ miles of interstate was bearable though on the way back the tops of my knees became extremely sore as though I had jumped Blue or Jess 100 times. I had clocked 13 hours Monday but gave way and found a hotel with only 160 miles more to go. Self preservation kicked in just in time.

Without boring all of you bloggy buddies with mundane details, the following phrases and words describe some of the highlights and memorable moments we experienced during our memorable trip.

Seeing our loved ones again, sharing time with Mom and my sis, going back in time, quiet solitude, babbling brooks, fresh clean air with cool breezes, an awesome rented farmhouse, petting cows, seeing a baby cow and a baby horse, watching chickens, seeing my first hare (huge compared to rabbits!), an excellent 4th of July parade, excellent antique shops, excellent seafood, Grammie's baked beans, touring my grandparent's farm and meeting the generous owners...seeing 'moose crossing' signs, celebrating a cousin's bday, touring their new log home built by my fine carpenter cousin, seeing some of the old furniture again from my grandparents estate, scanning old family photos, traveling through picture perfect towns filled with federal style homes and cozy country stores, gorgeous flowers, and being blessed with some of the most awe inspiring pastoral views that look like paintings from the 18th century.

By the way, it rained pretty much every day of the trip but we did get to see some of the sun's rays peeking through every now and then. Although the rain was a disappointment we still got to do a lot and I am grateful that our traveling was safe, our health is good, and that the 'bad' husband missed me like crazy!

Teeth Talk

The 'ponies' had a visit from their tooth fairy this morning. All went well; both had a couple of small jagged edges on the sides but no cuts in their cheeks. They get their teeth floated every six months. The equine dentist, although only in his late thirties, is from the 'old school' of thinking which is exactly what I prefer. No fancy machines that 'over file', just careful, knowledgeable, good old fashioned floating with mouth friendly tools. I watch him closely. His ears are tuned in and his eyes are constantly noticing the horses' reactions. He has a very calm demeanor and the horses respect him. He told me a story about him training a man from Ireland. He mentioned that he finds it difficult to break down every detail since the process is so automatic for him. One example was when he demostrated a certain skill for his Irish student, the horse was well behaved. When the Irish man attempted the same skill, the horse acted up...funny, some people just have a way with horses. Speaking of such talented souls, my grandfather was a member of that club, so to speak.

Floyd Fuller was a well known equine dentist in Vermont. He was interviewed numerous times and held seminars for regional veterinarians who wanted to better themselves in the art of properly floating teeth. He never used sedatives and could gentle any horse. He was a genuine horse whisperer. I remember him telling a story about a man with an extremely difficult stallion with a bad reputation. The man's veterinarian experienced problems with the floating process and chose not to continue. A friend of the owner's suggested using Floyd Fuller. The owner quickly dismissed Floyd due to his age (and said 'that old codger?') but finally relinquished and asked Floyd to come over to his farm. Grampie had no problems whatsoever. His patience, love and 'know how' in handling horses along with his gentle style and floating expertise showed the shocked owner that age has nothing to do with skill. I miss my grandfather tremendously but am very thankful that this young man has the strength, skill level and desire to float teeth the proper way and chooses carry on this important tradition.

If you want to see more photos of Gramp, just click on Floyd Fuller. The article was written August 31, 1990 in the Valley News when he was almost 89 years old. What will you be doing at that age and will anyone be interested enough in you to write an article about your talents? Most of us will be forgotten about when and if we reach 89 years, but Grampie was special and I am lucky to have been born his youngest granddaughter.