When I was eight my father Patrick died.
Mother and we four children, moved to
Grandpa Doan's to reside.
They loved us and showed they cared. It was during World War #2
just after the depression, times were hard.
There were no types of welfare card.
Rationing on most everything, meat, butter, shoes, tires and
gasoline. So, raising chickens, rabbits, and victory gardens
quickly made the scene.
Grandma's friend, Sis Jarvis told me one day, "Virginia, I have a place for
you to stay a home with me!" "Oh!" I thought, I'm second oldest,
the strongest one I suppose..!
Is that why, I'm the one that's chosen to go?.
So I lived on Jarvis's Farm all during the third grade, at a
Plainfield, Indiana public school. I got a brand new life, ready made.
The Jarvis' lived on a forty acre farm. On the west side was their woods,
so mossy and warm. The cows use to go back there and I would follow.
I loved to walk, think and sing out there all alone. Alone on my
treasure hunt, then follow the cows back home.
Their daughter Eavie, about 17, was nice to me, and so kind,
I learned many things watching her. How to feel happy, calm, and refined.
She was first to put nail polish on my finger and toes, fixed my face,
styled my hair. I felt loved while I lived there.
Out behind the barn lot, scattered in the woods, stood old wagons,
old machines and a broken down old Ford.
Old machinery all rusted and bent, were so much fun to just sit in,
pretending to drive, and invent..
The first time I helped harvest corn, their work took non-ending days.
The corn was dried in the field for animal feed or maybe cornmeal.
If you can imagine out on that farm (with pumpkins all around)
rustling in the cold, windy, October sky. Several acres of golden
dry corn full grown, six foot high.
We had on gloves and winter clothes, as we shucked each ear
of corn, threw it high in a wagon, horse-drawn. I just loved it on
that ole farm!
They grew their own asparagus, garlic, chilies, tomatoes, corn,
onions, potatoes, and beans, 'bout everything imaginable, it seems.
They grew their own meat, and had a smoke house, where hams
and bacon slabs hung all pungent and sweet.
Their freezers filled with chickens, pork chops and beef steaks galore,
just waiting for us to eat. Harrah!!! No war shortages, anymore!
Walnut and hickory nut trees grew all around the farm. So we
would gather the nuts in baskets and pile them near the barn.
We'd fill an old iron skinning machine with green walnuts,
piled high. Then hand crank them by the bushels, tearing
off the outer green hide.
The nuts were stored in the barn somewhere over the winter to dry.
Then we would crack the nuts to make fudge, holiday baking,
candy making or give to neighbors with pride.
They had a big dairy barn the cows were milked all in a row
I was afraid of the cows in there, for a city girl, it was scary you know.
I acted really brave, I had to take this in hand. Walking past all those
cow's horns afraid "they" wouldn't understand.
I helped run their errands, getting parts they needed while they were
milking. What jobs I did do, I can't recall.
I loved to be in the barn when it rained, listening to the pattering on
the roof. Seeing the rain falling, and blowing. Me, all safe with soft
breezes on my face.
They had different feed grains,some with lids, or large open bins about
4ft square by 4ft high in the barn. I loved to climb up and jump right in.
I'd dig in the grains with fingers, my feet and my legs, sometimes, I'd
cover my self up to my face. I'd lie in there, just listening, watching, and
experiencing the place.
I loved the fragrances of rain, the grain, the new mown hay up in the loft.
I'd lay up there forever, stroking a cat, or letting songs slide through my mind.
There was millet, chicken feed, wheat and rye seed. That's all I remember
now in the barn, but in the silo, it was filled with shelled corn.
I loved to lay in the corn enjoying the fragrances
in the barn listening to all the echoing things.
Chirping birds, the flutter of wings of birds and moths as round
and round up under the roof they all flew.
These kinds of magical things I knew.
The beautiful sunrise and sunsets, hadn't fully viewed them before
in the city where I lived. Now in the country side easily seen.
With buildings all around in the city, a sunrise? Never gave me a
chance to wonder, or to live, to experience such a prize.
Out in the country during our breakfast hour, I'd watch the sunrise
make it's way; it made me feel good the rest of the day.
I was so happy to live on the farm, looking over 20 acres land
toward the east, where the sunrise, and my school bus
always came from.
It was peaceful, cheerful, and quite a change, sitting there looking
out the window pane. Waiting there at the table for the school bus
to come again.
My time was soon over, I hated to go home, back to that empty front
porch in the city. Thou I had had a great time on the farm, it just
hadn't lasted very long, a pity.
Adventures, friends, and such good food. Fond memories that will
last much longer then my life time! Written here to be remembred,
my story of that ole farm.
