Do you miss it?

About a year after I left home, I received a letter from Utahna and Crystal containing pictures of them in their pipe moving garb with sarcastic notes attached.  I put them in my scrapbook and wrote my response to my sisters:

Written Summer 2003:

Do I miss it?  A few years ago the answer may have even surprised me... YES!  I miss most everything about it.  I miss getting out in the open and working, I miss getting on the back of a hay truck and throwing bales around, I miss the thinking time I had while milking the cows, I even miss moving lines once in a while (I know my biceps do anyway).  I don't think there is any work that gives more satisfaction than farming... there is a definite sense of satisfaction in this career.

Yes, I miss farming, but not nearly as badly as I miss farming with my Dad.  I miss that every day contact with my hero.  I miss talking to my best friend each day as we worked in the barn or the field.

Dad taught me so much on the farm.  He taught me to work hard and take pride in working hard.  One day I was particularly upset as we were hauling hay, it seemed everyone else was on the back of the trailer just riding around as Dad and I picked up all the bales.  I expressed my frustration to Dad and he turned to me and said, "Jami, take pride in kicking someone else's butt!"  Of course as I approached dating age he changed his story, "Jami, if you want to date any of these boys, you're going to have to stop out working them!"

I learned many gospel principle's while working on the farm.  Who knew the barn could be such a spiritual place?

I am so proud to be a "farm girl."  I am surprised every day at what those two little words mean to people.  It means I come from a good family; it means I know the value of a dollar; it means I am not afraid of working hard; it means I know how to be part of a team.

I miss it... and I know the two of you will too!

FARM PROUD!!!

From Juel:

Anybody recall how important pride was in our work as we hauled hay; trying to make the stack straight, but more over making sure we all got our fair share of the bales off the loader.  Most memorably was with Ben and David.  Four of us on the truck, Kammy behind the wheel singing the Frito Bandito Song; Ross and I would try not to let Ben or David get any bales.  I remember quite a few, not dirty tricks, but inventive tricks to get my fair share of the bales.  Long, hot, hard days that were oh so fun.  Where did those days go?  Some of my best times have been on the back of a truck or on top of a stack sharing work and time with my coworkers:   friends and family.  Windy, 90* days hauling dry bales of hay.  Following which, one would just stand in the shower at night with cold water running into open, bloodshot eyes, trying to dislodge some of the hay and sooth the scratches.  Can’t forget trying to clear your nasal passages of Green Boogers.  Then at last, a sound night’s sleep.

From Jami:
And then remember scoffing at the stacks formed by harrow beds? How 1 week later they were being braced with logs?  Yeah...

I also remember looking down at the stacks and trying to figure out how many of those bales I had lifted during their journey.

Oh and also... they talk so much about black lung disease caused by smoking.  At the end of those days as I was cleaning out all the green snot, I couldn't help but imagine all the scientists fighting over my lungs when I die to figure out this new "green lung disease".

One more thing... have any of you ever heard my dad's impression of my mom singing the Frito Bandito song???  It it entertaining... I would request it the next time I saw him if I were you! :)

What made you proud?

Young in Juniper

From Juel:

I recall long ago Ross and I going for firewood down to the cedars by the rest area.  I was driving the white dodge and I believe Ross was in a blue Chevy.  The Dodge had a full ½ turn of play in the steering wheel.   Anyhow, I’m not sure how this happened (Being as how we always drove at a reasonable speed): but we came to a light rise and fall in the road (well as a remember it more of a cow trail)  and somehow the front end of my pickup came off the ground and when it came down again my front wheels had turned.  I was all over that road turning that big steering wheel from right to the left, over and over again, struggling to keep the front of the pickup in front of me!   Which I managed to do eventually.  Ross was behind me laughing hysterically (my story) at my dilemma. 

Oh to be young in Juniper!  

It appears I should have given David lessons on driving.  I did Jami; and it has served her well over the years.  I know; because I have heard her stories!

Udder Chaos!

Straight from my journal... and everyone knows you can't lie in your journal.  Haha... wish I would have written more about my farm experiences and less about my romantic obsession of the week...

Added commentary is in parenthesis.

May 29, 2000-Memorial Day

Fed my cows at 6 am, then went to the flat and Dad and I moved 3 lines and set one line over the fence. We were waiting for Ross to come and pick up the line, but after waiting a few minutes, we got a little bored so we moved one of Alberto's lines (Ahh, yes, farm bored).  Boy!  That was fun!  NOT!  It was mud up to about my knee!  Ross finally got there and while we were picking up the line we got stuck, so Aaron had to walk about a mile to get another pick-up and a chain to pull us out.  In the mean time, the rest of us walked about 1/4 mile with hammers, pliers, and fence posts to build a gate.  Good times.  We made our gate and got the line all picked up, so I'm thinkin' "Yeah! I'm goin' home!"  So I sat on the tool box and took off my boots and socks.  (This is where things get interesting.)

Well... there had been a  cow get out through our gate.  So they (Dad and Ross) decided they should probably put it back in.  First they were chasing the cow on foot, running down the fence line yelling at the cow.  I thought it would go right in the gate (like every other cow we'd ever chased-sheesh... you think a girl would learn from experience).  Well, obviously the cow had another plan and she took off.  So, Ross got in the pick-up and continued the chase.

Well... Brad and I were sitting on top of the big tool box in the back.  Now, I don't know if Ross forgot that we were back there or if he really just didn't care (I tell myself the first and it helps me sleep better at night).  But off we went... swerving back and forth, slowing down and suddenly speeding up again, bouncing over sagebrush, uneven ground and what felt like small sink-holes.  There was more than one occasion when Brad and I wondered if we would make it home alive.  We were holding on for dear life.  Every time we turned we prayed that we would stay on the toolbox.  When we swerved left Brad had white knuckles and silver-dollar eyes.  One violent jerk of the steering wheel and we were suddenly turning right which meant Brad could relax a little and it was my turn in panic mode with the wide eyes and white knuckles.  Back and forth it went.  (These 5-10 minutes felt like hours... I think Brad will agree.)  Finally we hit a bump that knocked Brad off the toolbox and into the bed of the truck.  Normally, I would have helped him.  But, since my own life was in jeopardy, he was on his own.

Every time we slowed down a bit, poor Brad would try to make it back to the tool box, but just as he would get up we would speed up and he would jerk backwards or we would swerve and he would hit one of the sides of the pick-up.  Finally, he decided we were never going to slow down, so he decided to just go for it, naturally, just then, Ross slammed on the breaks and Brad once again hit the side of the pick-up.  But this time, he landed in a corner and decided that he would just stay there.

The corner looked pretty cozy... pretty safe.  Safer than the toolbox.  So, I let go and let myself fall into the back of the truck.  Unfortunately, I landed on a chainsaw and my bare foot hit a roll of barbed wire from previously mentioned fencing project.  So my little toe was all cut up.  But like I said, the corner represented safety, so when I got to one, I stayed there.

The crazy chase wasn't enough to scare the cow through the gate, but I guess she decided the fence would be OK.  So she went right through the middle of it.  (Cows!)  One more fence to fix before we could go home...

After the cow was safely on the inside, and fences mended, I asked Brad if he wanted back on the tool box.  He shook his head, a definate "NO!"  However, Aaron joined and made a third passenger, Brad decided the tool box would be okay if he was the middle passenger.  We decided we had just experienced something far better than a carnival ride (though neither one of us wanted a second ride... ever).

You can take the girl out of the country...

From Juel:

Wish I could write as Jami does, but guess you’re stuck with my style.  Right now my thoughts turn to each of those whom I have had the privilege of working with.  I truly did enjoy my time working with each of you and have many special memories that are near and dear to my heart.  There was a lot of hard manual labor done and with each of you the tasks became almost fun.

 I think we’ve all split our pants out and had to work through it.  Two I particularly remember, one was Jami, at the beginning of a hot hay hauling day and the second Crystal in the same situation.  I just remember that they both got lots of hay down their pants on those days, but neither shirked from their duties, embarrassed as they may have been.  When it had to be done they just did it.

Becky and Esther were two of the absolute best pipe movers.  They were kinda short and the barley kinda tall.  But that did not faze them one bit, even when they had to carry the pipe over their heads.  

Sara & Beth, many memories of them feeding in adverse weather; but with their great attitudes, they took a lot of crap in fun and never failed to give it right back with interest.

All of Ross's girls took their turn feeding calves, and I think they all drove truck for us at one time or another.

If any of you men or children want to know what made your wife or mother the wonderful strong devoted person they are.  The answer in large part is growing up in Juniper.  They always had it in them; they just got to exercise it.  And find out exactly what they were made of in a little patch of hallowed paradise we like to call Juniper.

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FYI, for anybody who has not had the privilege of splitting out their pants, it is not the hay going down your pants that is the problem... just sayin.  

P.S. I swear I split my pants out every day for a week that summer... good times.

Yeah, That's Embarrassing!

Haha... you are all in for a real treat.  Mom has a couple of really great "most embarrassing moment" type stories.  Some I'm certain will never be told on this blog (d/t a healthy fear for my own life)... However, she agreed to share this one with you all. So, go empty your bladder and come back... seriously there's a good chance you'll laugh so hard tears will roll down your legs.
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From Kammy: 

One beautiful summer day, I loaded the kids and the lawnmower in the little red pickup and headed over to Sanford's.  I also took the pitchers so we could stop at the dairy and pick up some much needed milk on the way home.  To my dismay, the milk truck showed up before we had accomplished our task.  I quickly left instructions for the kids and jumped into the pickup and raced over to try and get some milk before the tank was drained.  I knew the milkman had to run a hose from his trailer through the little access door in the barn wall and attach it to the milk tank.  I also knew from past experience, if I had managed to get there before he had it all hooked up, he would let me go into the barn and get my milk before he started loading the milk.  I maneuvered the pickup between the semi and the end of the barn to check out his progress.  Sure enough, the milkman was standing in between.  I edged the pickup closer for a better look, trying to decide if he was just getting started or just finishing.  Unfortunately, I didn't have my contacts in so I was leaning forward over the steering wheel, nose close to the glass, and staring wide-eyed out the windshield -- only to discover that he was "relieving" his bladder!  I was mortified: and he didn't look too happy either!  Needless to say, I made a red-faced and hasty retreat, deciding we could go without milk easily for one day under the circumstances.  Later, I related the whole incident to Juel, he just laughed and asked, "Sooooo, was he just getting started, or just finishing?!"
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You can bet there was an endless string of bad puns around our house for quite some time! ;)

Speaking of milk truck... this really hit my funny bone: