Countrified

Raising a family in today’s climate is adventurous and complex. Living in a small, rural community makes communication easier between parents given there are fewer families coupled with that small-town mentality. Some would call it clandestine, which I wouldn’t necessarily dispute, yet we do watch out for each other’s kids and property because that’s what you do in a small town. We don’t have “city cops” to patrol the streets so community action is all we have for protection. Yea, everybody knows everyone else’s “business” but that familiarity is comforting to me. I like that people keep you informed even if you sometimes wish you hadn’t heard certain things.

Driving along our country roads (which are always in need of repair), you’ll find that most drivers wave at you, but the type of greeting varies from the one-finger raised from the steering wheel, to the raised-arm, to the forehead-salute, or the head-nod, and sometimes (for folks you know well) it’s the hand-wave and wide grin. You’ll likely meet up with some barking dogs alongside the road (or in the middle if they’re young pups) and possibly a Rhode Island Red or Bantam rooster strutting about as if they own the road.

If you have a flat tire or hood up on your vehicle alongside the road, you are pretty much guaranteed to attract a friendly face offering help or a ride to town. You’ll also find retired gents congregating over a cup of coffee at the gas station, kids riding their bikes to school, and a complete absence of traffic save for when school starts and ends. If your daily commute to work often leaves you stuck in a traffic jam behind a slow-moving tractor pulling a load of grain or hay, consider yourself countrified.

Technologically Challenged

Although the adage always proves true, no one wants to admit to the inevitable “becoming your parents” experience. Yet, it happens sometimes subtly and other times it smacks you in the face. Usually it’s not until after the episode that you recognize the eerie similarities. Recently, an exasperating encounter with a videophone internet program that my husband (in Iraq) wanted to try proved, yet again, that technology is changing faster than I am.

As a parent myself, it never ceases to amaze me how easily our boys learn and use the latest hi-tech gadgets. I learn well enough, but frustrate easily when things don’t work as I expect. For example, navigating the internet is a fluid exercise for them, yet for me it can be a rather bumpy ride at times. Even the act of “writing” has gone hi-tech by forcing you to compose at the keyboard instead of in your head. Personally, there are times I prefer putting pen to paper but the older I get, the more I appreciate the ease of use my laptop computer provides.

With technology encroaching into every facet of our lives from coffee makers to washing machines to the vehicles we drive, it seems the days of rotary dials and simple on/off switches are long gone. Recently I purchased a new desk lamp because I liked the style but couldn’t figure out how to turn it “on” as I thought the switch had broken off, but turns out it was a “touch” lamp. My dad got a kick out of me trying to “touch” one of his lamps to turn it on but apparently, it was the “regular” kind and not the “fancy” kind as he called it.

I guess I am the “tween” generation being born to the rotary-dial age (like my parents) and having grown up in the digital age (to which my kids were born). I like the advances and enjoy being able to set a timer on my coffee maker to have fresh java when I wake up at 7am, but I dislike the frustrating 30 minutes it took me to figure out how to set it up the first time. My husband likes having his favorite television program recorded and sent to him on DVDs (the current episodes, not the ones you buy in the store), but that means each time I run out of DVDs, I’ll spend 15 minutes at Best Buy trying to remember which type of recordable DVDs work in our DVD recorder.

For the Birds

Life on a farm includes caring for a multitude of crops and animals. I grow herbs and veggies for drying and canning and always enjoy making hoards of apple butter from our various apple trees. Yet growing, tending, and cutting flowers is what really makes my heart soar! Even dividing bulbs, rhizomes, and hostas is great fun as it means I get more free plants to disperse. This love of flowers has provided other surprises I’ve come to enjoy as much as finding new buds on a lilac or peony bush: butterfly and bird watching.

Gardening is a never-ending learning experience full of experimentation and wonder just like my on-going appreciation for our winged and feathered friends. I observe these avian beauties with awe and curiosity to understand how they live, what and how they eat, and where they raise their young. Recognizing the subtle color variations of similar birds and knowing the names of the most strikingly beautiful birds (like the Indigo Bunting) has become as second nature to me as spying weeds from a distance among my flowerbeds. In Iowa, gardening is a three-season affair with the winter months dragging at a snail's pace. The few plants I winter indoors like pink geraniums don’t nearly satisfy my green thumb, so I’ve come to appreciate bird watching for its year-round appeal.

Of course, anytime I feed the birds our cows have gotten the idea that means I will have something for them too. Just before our two mama cows had calved last spring, I began feeding them cracked corn/protein and carried it to their feed trough in a bucket. I also use a (different) bucket to carry the birdseed to refill my birdfeeders. So now, anytime the cows see me toting a bucket around, they saunter to the fence and stare me down often mooing to get my attention. I don’t feed them cracked corn now but I do keep extra apples in the fridge as they enjoy eating them almost as much as the corn. I got in the habit of feeding them apples from our apple trees to get rid of the bruised, fallen, and unsavory ones. The experience has taught me that cows have good eyesight (probably better than mine without my glasses).