NORTHFIELD 7 FARM

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I am sitting in my Lazy Arse chair, sippin’ coffee, looking out my sliding glass doors watching a herd of dear saunter by.  Dogs snoring away soaking up the sun.  Life is good.  Thought I’d tell you a few stories about living out on the farm.  So grab a cuppa Joe and walk along memory lane with me for a spell…..

If you would have told me I would spend my life living in the country, I would have asked you what you had been smokin’ since you were clearly stoned out of your mind!  I was the kid who never went outside cause I was afraid of every bug known to man.  Even ants and flies.  My mother had instilled an insane degree of fear of woodticks in us since my sister actually had one attach it’s self to her eardrum as a toddler.  Even as an adult I spent many a spring and summer sleeping with cotton balls stuffed into my and my daughter’s ears so nothing would crawl into them while we were sleeping. So moving to the country was never even considered in jest.  Funny how life turns out.  Suddenly living “off the land” sounded good.  Couldn’t get enough of “Little House on the Prairie” books.  Started saying workds like, “I reckon” and droppin’ the “g’s” off my words.  We yearned for “the good ole days”.  Didn’t matter that neither one of us knew squat about raising animals or gardening.  We was just a’hankerin fer 40 acres and a mule.  In July of ’89, we found our piece of heaven.  40 acres, a huge barn, an ice house, an old garage, a big misc. building, a cute little bunkhouse and oh my gosh, it even had an outhouse.  We were as happy in pigs in slop. And did I mention it had an old windmill?  Our homestead was picture perfect.  On the outside.  Inside?  Well let’s just say we wouldn’t let our parents see the place until the day we moved in.  My dad gave us 6 months before we gave up and moved back to the city.  The house had been empty for months and the mice had moved in.  It was as they call it, “a real fixer-upper”!  Ah, the innocents of youth.  Didn’t matter to us that there were no real locks on the doors.  That there was one bedroom.  That the ceiling and two walls in the kitchen we made of oil cloth and the other walls had barn board on them.  And that you could see down into the basement thru the cracks in the kitchen flooring.  No tub, but a plastic shower.  No  furnace, just a big ole oil burner stove and a wood stove down in basement.  The chimney ran up thru a hole in the floor in the dining room.  Looking back as a mother now, I have to commend my mom for not breaking down when she saw the place. We saw the dream, they saw the reality.   TO BE CONTINUED….

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About thelumberjackandthegypsy

The lumberjack is my husband and he owns Arrowhead Wood Products; Arrowhead Toboggan and Snowshoe; and Lake Superior Furniture Co. and is the exclusive manufacturer of wood shutters for Summit Hill Shutter Co. The gypsy is me, and I have a passion for teaching people to tap into their creative side, even when they think they don't have one! I did not grow up creative or artsy and I was in my thirties before I started sewing and creating things. I am a rug hooker; artisan teddy bear maker; painter (from pictures to large pieces of furniture!); knitter; doll maker; needle-felter, repurposer; sewer; decorator; blogger; glamper; reader; vintage jewelry maker; junker; and now a shop owner. But the lumberjack and I feel our greatest gifts in this world are our four grandkids and our daughter and her husband and our relationship with Jesus Christ. We have been married for more than 33 years and most of that time we have lived out in the country on a hobby farm where we have raised chickens, turkeys, ducks, goats, pigs and beef cattle. We also homeschooled our only child for her entire school years. We lived out our dream of being like the The Little House on the Prairie and they were great times. I also have a personal blog: rantingsofamadqueen.wordpress.com where I tell stories of what life on the farm has been like and other things that pop up in my very weird mind. I prefer "quirky or eccentric" instead of weird (sounds more fascinating and less creepy)!

4 responses »

  1. Wow, familiar beginning. Somewhat different purchase. I am currently re-reading the Little House series for the 2nd time as an adult. I just can’t get enough of READING about people working hard. No actual hard work on my part, mind you. I also get a kick out of children who don’t talk back – what a concept.

  2. Brings me back to the farm. When we woke up in the morning we had a real good idea of the temp outside. Lick your finger and hold it up, and you could almost tell the direction of the wind. When I first put it on the market after Don passed away, I was broken-hearted. I said if I had the money to maintain it I wouldn’t sell. After 21 months on the market, I was ready to run. After it sold there was something I wanted to ask the new owner, but it was winter and I figured they were now aware how much heating a four bedroom drafty farm house with fuel oil was going to cost. I decided to wait until spring. Spring came and I decided to wait because now they were experiencing a 550 foot country driveway with beavers backing up the stream in the driveway and the soft spot at the top. I decided to wait until summer. Summer came and I remembered they had three dogs. The farm was the home base for all wood ticks in the northland. I figured fall might be safe. It amazed me. We loved living there for 19 years. We too had a big ol’ red barn and outhouse. One day after we moved in as I was doing dishes I said, “Lord, I thank you that you gave us everything we were looking for–even a main floor laundry. The only thing missing is two bathrooms. I could swear I heard God laugh as He said, “Yes, I did.” My eyes were drawn to the outhouse.
    By the way, my Scottish realtor explained that to sound Scottish you drop the “g” at the end of words as well. It takes a bit of a different lilt. But he sold me a darlin’ little house in town.

  3. As I looked back at your entry, it reminded me. I forgot to mention the mice. An indoor cat was a must. It helped to keep the sightings down. I think mice can sense evil. We didn’t think the cat was evil, but I think the mice did.

  4. If anyone misses that barnyard smell you can come to my house. The spring thaw has brought to life everything that was frozen all winter.

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