The Routines of Farm Life

When I was around two or three years old, I began my annual visits to my Maxwell grandparents. I’ve wondered about the reasons I was taken to them for these visits at such a young age.

Juanita, Frances Juanita to be precise, was born when I was two years old so maybe Mother felt that two young ‘uns were too demanding. I really do hope her memories of me at that time were ones that an obedient child would have put there, because they would be in her mind forever. Anyway, these visits continued up until I was about 12. After the first few years of visits, I chose to go and looked forward to them, because (being the very first grandchild) they gave me so much attention and love, and because it was such a different world.

Granddaddy’s daily routine was first, before breakfast, at the crack of dawn, to milk the cows. I don’t remember if I ever knew how many cows they had. It must have been several, because we often went to town and sold the cream to the ice creamery in Corsicana. The rest was used for cooking and drinking, of course. Oh, yes, and making “clobber” (pretty much like our current cottage cheese) and I loved it.

It excited me to know we were going “into town” to sell the cream, because I got the treat of my life – ice cream! I learned about this incredible, unique treat of the Corsicana Creamery. If I live to be 100, I’ll never forget that orangepineapple flavor. There was actually real fruit in it. I doubt if I even knew what pineapples looked like – but I knew it was the most amazing combination of flavors my young palette had ever experienced. My mouth is watering at this very moment just thinking about it. I’ve never since found something that can ever come close.

In order to be sure she had pure cream to sell, my grandmother poured the milk straight from the cows into this strange-looking contraption called the “separator.” Now, don’t ask me how that piece of apparatus worked. It was a large funnel that had two spouts coming but one side; one spout was higher than the other. As the milk went through it, the magic happened. Liquid came out of both spouts at once into two separate containers: one bucket for that precious pure cream, and the other for the fat-free milk. “Fat-free” milk has become a relatively new concept to this current generation since the homogenized version was the formula of choice for most everyone. Now, with more concern for our health demands “cutting the fat” from our diet, the old, original “fat-free” version has emerged and become very popular.

Now, it is sterilized (more health precautions). I doubt if my grandmother would think that this step of sterilization was at all necessary. Fortunately, we were all healthy as hogs on that farm. Much healthier than most Americans of today who are aware and observe the many practices that lead to good health habits.

My grandparents on the Maxwell side raised corn, cotton and alfalfa. Al-fal-fa (according to Mr. Webster) was fodder – “a plant of the pea family used for fodder and pasture and as a cover crop.” Fod-der, (according to Mr. Webster) “coarse food for cattle, horses, etc. as hay.” I don’t remember what type of interesting equipment was used to harvest fields of alfalfa, but believe me, I’ll always remember what was required to harvest the corn and the cotton.

To harvest the corn on the Maxwell farm, required the fast-pickin’ ability of grandaddy, Uncle Moss and Uncle Johnny, and a wagon and tractor and guess who drove the tractor? Me. I vividly remember that important accomplishment and requirement for the harvesting of the corn. The men were very talented at rapidly yanking those ears off the stalks and tossing them into the ol’ wagon. But the really important person driving all this was, of course, the tractor driver; that would be me. Did I inform you that I was eight years old? I drove that tractor, probably at every bit of five miles an hour.

My Uncle Moss tried to scare me by saying, “You be real careful and hold on real tight to that steerin’ wheel when you get to the end of each row ‘cause those two front wheels can get caught in that dip where the water drains and spin those wheels around sideways.” Well, thanks a lot Uncle Moss! The early model of the John Deere tractor did have the front two wheels very close together.

The far most difficult task, I still vividly recall, was the fact that it took ALL my strength to push that brake pedal in. Since I feared letting that machine get away from me, I think I had extra strength in that “flamingo” leg to get that brake pedal in when they hollered at me to do so. In accepting that brave (I thought) responsibility of filling such an extremely important role in harvesting the corn, I experienced a feeling of accomplishment like I had never known before. This feeling was additive and good. I wish more people could experience that sense of accomplishment today in whatever they are doing. I believe it has followed me in various degrees through life and I feel that as a result of this newly experienced feeling of importance, even at the age of eight, it spills over into other desires, other “accomplishments.”

Artist Norma Chestnutt Bowman is an Austin native and a La Grange resident of 21 years and hopes her experiences bring back great memories for everyone.