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    Times changed

    Tonight I and my daughter took her goats in to the butcher. As we drove along, we mused about how things are. We got to talking about cows, and how we both would love to have a cow or two, for milk and beef.

    I ended up telling her how things once were on our farm when I was a kid.

    I’m only 44. I started to realize just how much change I have personally seen. Our farm in the eighties was most would have been in the fifties. When I was a kid, we had three jersey milk cows. We would milk morning and night, bring in the milk, run it through the separator, and when we had enough cream to fill two cream cans, we would head off to preeceville to drop it off and pick up a cream cheque. The preeceville point closed, and we then had to drive to Yorkton. We’d go in as a family, drop off the cans bright and early, do some shopping around town, and on the way back out we would stop by and pick up the cream cheque.

    While I was explaining this to her, it hit home how things have changed, not always for the better.

    Farms got bigger, fewer people delivered cream. Next thing they closed the small town creamery.

    I don’t know what I am getting at. But I have mused on here before that if we expect agriculture to get better, if we miss having neighbors and dynamic communities, it sure seems to me that we need more farmers not less.

    So how do we do this when existing farmers pretty much all want more land? Can we agree on the basic premise that more farmers would be a good thing? For small towns, for political strength, for favourable outside views of farming?

    It struck me that this is probably why I have become so much more passionate about seeking out a different way to farm, both on my farm personally, but as a whole in the sector. It is frustrating that there are so many potential ways to farm, but as a whole we beat our heads against the brick wall, growing export commodities and then expecting great results. Expecting or hoping for control. Wistful dreaming about better times, about government that cares about the sector. Continuing to expand, continuing to grow more commodities that do not offer rewarding enough returns to maintain the number of farms.

    I am just thinking out loud, sharing my thoughts. I don’t know how to fix the current mindset, how to get more people farming. I believe in more farmers, I believe in new ideas. I just don’t know how to get there from here.

    I loved my visit with my girl tonight. She is mystified as I am about how to replenish the land with people again. She found my stories as interesting as I found my dads stories interesting about him farming with horses...

    My how things have changed. My am I ever a misfit in this current generation.

    Those were good days, they really were.

    #2
    The Ghetto is not big by "today's standard". Beginning to feel like a fair weather farmer, hobby farmer.

    Ultimately we each set our own goals.

    Comment


      #3
      Let’s hear y’all’s stories. Surely others shipped cream?

      Comment


        #4
        Well you hit on what I have been thinking of quite a bit lately. I grew up listening to people telling us that at least on the farm we could eat during the great depression,there was lots of men looking for anything that would get them a meal.
        We milked cows for cream cheque and fed a few hogs to make the mortgage and taxes,and a few beef cows for other essentials ,then came the 50s and things were pretty bad I guess as I was just a kid then but thats when it seems like everyone was moving to town,(8to5 and a pay cheque on friday ) looked good I guess.
        Now Im 75 and thinking substance farming is the way to go,of course I have more land and i guess more money than I need,so rent out most and relax. Dont realy travel but fish and hunt,and would play with the great grand kids but thats kind of a no,no now that the flu has everything screwed up, never wanted to be a world beater anyway.
        Reminiscing kind of sad in a way.

        Comment


          #5
          You are a blessed man Sheep.
          No answers or arguments tonight.
          Similar story. The poor kid on the block lol. I remember Mom washing eggs so I could have glasses.
          17 years older than my sister and wow.
          Listen to Corb Lund's S Lazy H. Hits home a lot!! I don't really care for any family at my send off as none of them really know me anyways.

          Thought. Driving around Camrose this week. If all the cars and people out and about were compared to the before.
          What the heck was everyone doing out before?? Discretionary.
          I think; this is how I grew up!.
          I tell all the younger who will listen: This is what it's like to live with no money.
          You don't eat out. You don't shop unless it's through a window. You cruise but that's it. Holiday?? No concept of. No context for the word. Half day at lake maybe once or twice; in entire childhood. Near horizons.
          The economic pain of all those whose well being depend on discretionary spending, my heart goes out to all.
          I hold no glee. But I've been here before.

          Comment


            #6
            Cows were milked for 40 years by parents and grandparents. I remember the cream cans were left at train station, went to Wadena Creamery. Think we stopped about same time as Creamery was closed there.
            What stands out is we only got separated milk to drink, white water I called it. Hated it, later found out what whole milk tasted like! Yes has changed, in our youth towns were busy growing, schools, churches were full. Sad part is seeing everything going away, very few young people, few businesses left. Ghost towns in 10 years.

            Comment


              #7
              Cows, yes that's another chapter I remember. Not enough space. But thank you for the reminder 😊.
              Here's another, bath night was Saturday night? Tommy Hunter? LoL.
              Oh boy.
              Last edited by blackpowder; Apr 14, 2020, 23:36.

              Comment


                #8
                Originally posted by fjlip View Post
                Cows were milked for 40 years by parents and grandparents. I remember the cream cans were left at train station, went to Wadena Creamery. Think we stopped about same time as Creamery was closed there.
                What stands out is we only got separated milk to drink, white water I called it. Hated it, later found out what whole milk tasted like! Yes has changed, in our youth towns were busy growing, schools, churches were full. Sad part is seeing everything going away, very few young people, few businesses left. Ghost towns in 10 years.
                Lol white water! Lol I remember having 2% for the first time at my grandmas house when I was about ten. I thought I died and went to heaven, that rich, creamy store bought stuff was amazing.

                The lineups of two and three ton grain trucks, and the odd hopper box, when quota opened up. Sitting there with dad at the Kuroki elevator. A real hub of activity and catching up with the neighbors. Kuroki had more than one grocery store, a bank, a John deere dealership, a school, a general store, credit union, and more. Would dump 300 bushels of wheat, deposit the cheque, and dad would often buy me a revel at the gas station or the coop grocery store before heading home.

                Or guys would come over for butchering day. Butcher a steer, let it hang, go in for instant coffee, chat and joke around. Then we’d head back out and finish the job. The next week it would be butcher day at Johns house. Rinse and repeat.

                Closest guy I know who would like to do this again lives 40 miles away. Not many have any interest, much less a foggy clue about how to butcher anymore around here.

                I just don’t think those people had stress like we do, the hurry up and get it done, the debt worries, the big dollar inputs as spring approached to think about. No cell phones, you get a flat, you walk to the nearest yard, get on the party line and get Stan to come out and change the tire. He always had them in stock. Not like now, where if your lucky the tire man has what you need in stock.

                FJ, it wasn’t long ago I got tires put on in hendon at the co op. It’s changed fast!

                Comment


                  #9
                  Originally posted by blackpowder View Post
                  Cows, yes that's another chapter I remember. Not enough space. But thank you for the reminder 😊.
                  Here's another, bath night was Saturday night? Tommy Hunter? LoL.
                  Oh boy.
                  Yup, bath night Saturday. Tommy hunter indeed. Donna and Leroy Anderson. Waiting all week for the latest mcgyver . Beachcombers on Sunday night. Littlest hobo, seeing things, magnum pi. Ads during the shows. If you missed a bit cuz you had to take a crap, too bad, you’ll never see it again, unless they do a rerun. Like the raccoons on ice. Loved that one as a kid! Lol

                  We sometimes had floats or milkshakes and popcorn made on the stovetop, or in the big ass electric frying pan.

                  Comment


                    #10
                    With respect. Just be careful you don't succumb to the childhood rose colored glasses.
                    Children of any era did not have the worries or responsibilities of an adult.
                    My siblings fall victim to this syndrome when they talk of "farming".
                    Oh Cool! I still have Mom's electric fry pan! LoL
                    Last edited by blackpowder; Apr 14, 2020, 23:55.

                    Comment


                      #11
                      Originally posted by blackpowder View Post
                      With respect. Just be careful you don't succumb to the childhood rose colored glasses.
                      Children of any era did not have the worries or responsibilities of an adult.
                      My siblings fall victim to this syndrome when they talk of "farming".
                      Could be for sure. But I have my dads income tax returns from that era, and financially things were pretty tickets boo what with 30 dollar an acre inputs.

                      But I know what your saying for sure. Wouldnt apply to all situations. I do know I never ever saw my parents stressed. I know my kids sure as heck do see my wife and I stressed.

                      Comment


                        #12
                        This is why I still hang around Wienerville.

                        Comment


                          #13
                          Oops. And my going on about money in the eighties is part of why my sister vowed never to marry a farmer.
                          My Dad's returns sucked LoL
                          And tickety- boo? Ya, your out of your gen. Lol
                          Anachronists unite lol
                          Full disclosure: I'm 55 Lol.
                          Last edited by blackpowder; Apr 15, 2020, 00:05.

                          Comment


                            #14
                            I used to ride with my dad all the time. Baling in the 4230 tractor. How I curled up on the arm rest to his left while he baled the night away is beyond me. I often would head out with him after supper, fall asleep on that tiny perch,and wake up in my bed in the morning. He somehow got me to my bed and never woke me up. I still bale with that same 4230. Lol

                            I also somehow fell asleep on the floor of the old 95 combine. In the dust and the chaff I would settle in for a sleep. In barley, I would be an absolute rashy mess from the dust.

                            Before seatbelts I would stand on the seat beside dad and put my hand on his shoulder as he drove. Some things make me be happy to still be alive. Lol
                            Last edited by Sheepwheat; Apr 15, 2020, 00:07.

                            Comment


                              #15
                              I remember before Sheep was 40 and BTO was hammering him about not getting his crop off. Second guessing himself.
                              Welcome to the Wiserhood.

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