I have learned a lot about life just living in Maine. You would probably wonder, what could one learn about life-other than just living it? Well, when you grow up with one sort of perspective out of life and see things a certain way-it is a rather wild shock when you have to learn how to live completely different from any way that you have ever known.
I grew up very sheltered when things seemed certain and predictable. It was very nice and comforting. My mother was an art teacher and my father worked for an insurance company. I grew up on a street called Appletree Drive in Plainville-how utterly suburban-and strangely familiar. We had a pretty house with a pool and I would ride my bike over all of the sidewalks in the neighborhood and was inside the house when the street lights came on. It was all organized and happy. My parents were and still are wonderful people. My sister, well, she is all right too! hahaha.
I naturally thought that I would have a life similar to how I was raised. The only other alternative was on TV. With TV, I watched all of the normal sitcoms of the 70's and 80's, and was somehow always fascinated with life on Walnut Grove and Walton's Mountain. Now, who would have thought that life still existed like that here in Cheddahville! Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true in some bizarre way to haunt you! It sure did for me!!!
In Plainville we used to play "Little House on the Prairie" by building a sort of cabin under the pool in the area where the pump was. I was always on the lookout for Indians (as if they ever visited Walnut Grove!)! By looking out for the mean neighborhood boys who would always wreck our forts that we built in the woods-though never reached the one by the pool! They were probably scared off by my parents vicious Llasa Apso- "Buffy!" (little furry suburban dog). Anyways, I had no idea then what I was preparing myself for. Then when I came inside for snack; cool aid and toll house cookies were waiting for me-now-well, that is another story. Needless to say that I have turned to more organic foods (and not my sheep!). Ah, the 70's. We are the product of the chemicals that we ate happily!
That first winter was very scary as I mentioned in prior blogs, and that was only the beginning. There were many lessons learned through trial and just plain stupidness! For example, being my first house, I was all excited to decorated it as I had my other two houses. The house in Attleboro was built in 1880 and was very Victorian in decor and I had filled it the best that I could with elegant antiques complete with an upright piano and a full cherry wood and teak dining room set. My second house was built in 1970 and did not have a formal dining room area and I had to store the table and chairs. I was all excited to put it into my Maine farm house to add a little elegance. Besides it matched the dark woods that I loved. I sold my Norton kitchen table that was white that I felt was too ostentatious for a farm. So I proudly added the formal dining room table to the kitchen. Well, needless to say that the life of a farm and climate of Maine did not like that table-it barely lasted two seasons before I had to find a more sturdy version at a second hand shop in town! The furniture that I had purchased did not wear well to the life of a farm and has blended in to the farm life eventually a little tattered, though with a lot of added memories to them in patches-most literally.
Then there was the story of the curtains. My first house in Attleboro was almost in the center of town and my neighbors were very close. I could look out my kitchen window and knock on it to tell my neighbor that I was calling her! Our kitchens were pretty close-we had fun with that! So, curtains were a necessity. Curtains were not only a decorative statement-but was way of keeping the neighbors out at times! So, when I moved to Maine-I honestly did not even think about it. I set to work choosing the perfect farm curtains to add to my home. Screaming that I was a Flatlander! My neighbor Kamaran came over with her husband and he started laughing. I was so proud of how fast I had decorated my house and I thought it looked pretty good. I could not understand the reason for his laughter. He said to me, "What are you keeping out a here the moose?" What? I had no idea what he was talking about and he pointed out that there was no one to block out with the curtains on three sides of my house but the moose and the woods!
I also noticed that they leave out a lot out on "Little House on the Prairie" like living on a farm in the winter! For example, no one told me how I was supposed to get water to my sheep Freyja out in the barn. I had to ask. I did not have a lot of money to spend on fancy equipment-so I learned to improvise. I certainly did not have the money for a heater for the water buckets or for a tap in the barn. So what did I do? I found some huge kitty litter pails and sterilized them and filled the water from the sink and brought it out to the barn-two times a day. I built up some good muscles with this let me tell you! As the snow piled up-we had to shovel a path to the door of the barn and tread very carefully over a driveway covered with ice-dragging those buckets-we still do this literally today as I write this. And the water freezes in the buckets so completely-I have another set that I bring in when frozen to put in the kitchen to thaw while the other buckets are out in the barn.
As for the hay, well I do not have a team of horses and a "Pa Ingalls" to get it in town- so, I have had to rely on my minivan. If you take out the seats and put a tarp over the floor you can fit in ten bales of hay and the many bags of wood shavings required for their stalls. Then there is the grain. They usually have it in huge bags and I have had to bat my eyelashes to get them to split the bags in half so I can even lift them! They are very heavy!
Now when Spring arrives, there is the matter of the field. In the Sping of 05 Freyja was the proud mother of twins- "Njord" (male) and "Skaadi" (female). They are all named after famous Gods and Goddesses of the land they are from (Viking mythology). The girls called them "Phil and Lil" from the Rug Rats (they could not remember the names that I gave them). We saw them born, which was the greatest wonder that we had experienced so far. We all grew such a pride for Freyja that day and felt like real farmers. When the Spring came we had to make sure the fence in the field was ready for them. I searched the property in the woods and dragged down endless old fencing and put it together with old posts that I had dug up from the far reaches of the fields to make a sturdy place for them to play. NEVER under estimate the power of sheep and their ability to jump fences-like I did! So many times had I received calls from my neighbors telling me my sheep were in the road and in my front yard! (Of course I had found their horses in my yard eating my antique rose bushes on other occasions!). My sheep had even found out where I was in the house and would call out to me-daring me to catch them! I lost a lot of weight that Spring! This is why you will NEVER see a fat sheep farmer! I could not afford the real sheep fencing-so I purchased garden fencing and even had to put tent stakes in the bottom-because when they could not jump over it-they would crawl under the fence! I have tied it over and again with string from the bales of hay. Because of this I have a special box for the fence repairing tools. In it I have wire, tent pegs, bale twine, scissors, wire cutters, nails, and duct tape (you never know!).
That Spring I was also invited to my neighbor Angela's father's retirement party. Harlan was the chief of the Fire Department for years and he had his retirement party at the town hall. I was nervous because I still did not know that many people in town and I was very excited to go. When I first arrived I noticed that some of the vehicles there were trucks and had bumper stickers on them-one of them said "Flatlanders-GO HOME!" and another stated "The only good Mass---- is a dead one!". Yet another boasted "No gas, no a--, no grass, no ride" Well, I felt comfortable here-NOT! I dressed up (my friend is laughing next to me as I write this-because dressing up in Mass for an event is different from dressing up in Maine) I even wore a pair of nylons and a pretty dress. I wanted to look presentable. (I was later told that nylons up here are used to fix the belts that break in cars!) Anyways, I walked in and felt terribly overdressed. Everyone looked comfortable and was dressed in jeans and the typical flannel of the area. I wanted to run back out before anyone noticed me and run home to change (I had bought some flannels at LL Bean before moving up here! And I was all excited to fit in) . But, to my dismay-Harlan spotted me and yelled right out, "Sharon! How are ya!" He brought others around and yelled out, "This gal here's the only Flatlander I eva liked!" I wanted to make a run for it and he gave me a big hug. He really is a wonderful person and made sure that no one tormented me the whole time I was there-at least not to my face!
I have to add that through the whole time and trials of before I moved to Maine and my survival after is certainly owed mainly to the support of my parents. I speak to them on a daily basis. (They have to call me since I do not have any long distance-and still do not!). They spend their winters in Florida and always love to tell me the difference in temperature between the two states and of how they spent the day playing tennis or lying in their pool while I am proudly breaking ice in the barn to feed the sheep! I love them and they eventually moved up for the summers to make sure that my lawn is mowed-because they knew that I would rather have my sheep do it!
And then I joined the Grange. But that is yet, another story.
I grew up very sheltered when things seemed certain and predictable. It was very nice and comforting. My mother was an art teacher and my father worked for an insurance company. I grew up on a street called Appletree Drive in Plainville-how utterly suburban-and strangely familiar. We had a pretty house with a pool and I would ride my bike over all of the sidewalks in the neighborhood and was inside the house when the street lights came on. It was all organized and happy. My parents were and still are wonderful people. My sister, well, she is all right too! hahaha.
I naturally thought that I would have a life similar to how I was raised. The only other alternative was on TV. With TV, I watched all of the normal sitcoms of the 70's and 80's, and was somehow always fascinated with life on Walnut Grove and Walton's Mountain. Now, who would have thought that life still existed like that here in Cheddahville! Be careful what you wish for, it might just come true in some bizarre way to haunt you! It sure did for me!!!
In Plainville we used to play "Little House on the Prairie" by building a sort of cabin under the pool in the area where the pump was. I was always on the lookout for Indians (as if they ever visited Walnut Grove!)! By looking out for the mean neighborhood boys who would always wreck our forts that we built in the woods-though never reached the one by the pool! They were probably scared off by my parents vicious Llasa Apso- "Buffy!" (little furry suburban dog). Anyways, I had no idea then what I was preparing myself for. Then when I came inside for snack; cool aid and toll house cookies were waiting for me-now-well, that is another story. Needless to say that I have turned to more organic foods (and not my sheep!). Ah, the 70's. We are the product of the chemicals that we ate happily!
That first winter was very scary as I mentioned in prior blogs, and that was only the beginning. There were many lessons learned through trial and just plain stupidness! For example, being my first house, I was all excited to decorated it as I had my other two houses. The house in Attleboro was built in 1880 and was very Victorian in decor and I had filled it the best that I could with elegant antiques complete with an upright piano and a full cherry wood and teak dining room set. My second house was built in 1970 and did not have a formal dining room area and I had to store the table and chairs. I was all excited to put it into my Maine farm house to add a little elegance. Besides it matched the dark woods that I loved. I sold my Norton kitchen table that was white that I felt was too ostentatious for a farm. So I proudly added the formal dining room table to the kitchen. Well, needless to say that the life of a farm and climate of Maine did not like that table-it barely lasted two seasons before I had to find a more sturdy version at a second hand shop in town! The furniture that I had purchased did not wear well to the life of a farm and has blended in to the farm life eventually a little tattered, though with a lot of added memories to them in patches-most literally.
Then there was the story of the curtains. My first house in Attleboro was almost in the center of town and my neighbors were very close. I could look out my kitchen window and knock on it to tell my neighbor that I was calling her! Our kitchens were pretty close-we had fun with that! So, curtains were a necessity. Curtains were not only a decorative statement-but was way of keeping the neighbors out at times! So, when I moved to Maine-I honestly did not even think about it. I set to work choosing the perfect farm curtains to add to my home. Screaming that I was a Flatlander! My neighbor Kamaran came over with her husband and he started laughing. I was so proud of how fast I had decorated my house and I thought it looked pretty good. I could not understand the reason for his laughter. He said to me, "What are you keeping out a here the moose?" What? I had no idea what he was talking about and he pointed out that there was no one to block out with the curtains on three sides of my house but the moose and the woods!
I also noticed that they leave out a lot out on "Little House on the Prairie" like living on a farm in the winter! For example, no one told me how I was supposed to get water to my sheep Freyja out in the barn. I had to ask. I did not have a lot of money to spend on fancy equipment-so I learned to improvise. I certainly did not have the money for a heater for the water buckets or for a tap in the barn. So what did I do? I found some huge kitty litter pails and sterilized them and filled the water from the sink and brought it out to the barn-two times a day. I built up some good muscles with this let me tell you! As the snow piled up-we had to shovel a path to the door of the barn and tread very carefully over a driveway covered with ice-dragging those buckets-we still do this literally today as I write this. And the water freezes in the buckets so completely-I have another set that I bring in when frozen to put in the kitchen to thaw while the other buckets are out in the barn.
As for the hay, well I do not have a team of horses and a "Pa Ingalls" to get it in town- so, I have had to rely on my minivan. If you take out the seats and put a tarp over the floor you can fit in ten bales of hay and the many bags of wood shavings required for their stalls. Then there is the grain. They usually have it in huge bags and I have had to bat my eyelashes to get them to split the bags in half so I can even lift them! They are very heavy!
Now when Spring arrives, there is the matter of the field. In the Sping of 05 Freyja was the proud mother of twins- "Njord" (male) and "Skaadi" (female). They are all named after famous Gods and Goddesses of the land they are from (Viking mythology). The girls called them "Phil and Lil" from the Rug Rats (they could not remember the names that I gave them). We saw them born, which was the greatest wonder that we had experienced so far. We all grew such a pride for Freyja that day and felt like real farmers. When the Spring came we had to make sure the fence in the field was ready for them. I searched the property in the woods and dragged down endless old fencing and put it together with old posts that I had dug up from the far reaches of the fields to make a sturdy place for them to play. NEVER under estimate the power of sheep and their ability to jump fences-like I did! So many times had I received calls from my neighbors telling me my sheep were in the road and in my front yard! (Of course I had found their horses in my yard eating my antique rose bushes on other occasions!). My sheep had even found out where I was in the house and would call out to me-daring me to catch them! I lost a lot of weight that Spring! This is why you will NEVER see a fat sheep farmer! I could not afford the real sheep fencing-so I purchased garden fencing and even had to put tent stakes in the bottom-because when they could not jump over it-they would crawl under the fence! I have tied it over and again with string from the bales of hay. Because of this I have a special box for the fence repairing tools. In it I have wire, tent pegs, bale twine, scissors, wire cutters, nails, and duct tape (you never know!).
That Spring I was also invited to my neighbor Angela's father's retirement party. Harlan was the chief of the Fire Department for years and he had his retirement party at the town hall. I was nervous because I still did not know that many people in town and I was very excited to go. When I first arrived I noticed that some of the vehicles there were trucks and had bumper stickers on them-one of them said "Flatlanders-GO HOME!" and another stated "The only good Mass---- is a dead one!". Yet another boasted "No gas, no a--, no grass, no ride" Well, I felt comfortable here-NOT! I dressed up (my friend is laughing next to me as I write this-because dressing up in Mass for an event is different from dressing up in Maine) I even wore a pair of nylons and a pretty dress. I wanted to look presentable. (I was later told that nylons up here are used to fix the belts that break in cars!) Anyways, I walked in and felt terribly overdressed. Everyone looked comfortable and was dressed in jeans and the typical flannel of the area. I wanted to run back out before anyone noticed me and run home to change (I had bought some flannels at LL Bean before moving up here! And I was all excited to fit in) . But, to my dismay-Harlan spotted me and yelled right out, "Sharon! How are ya!" He brought others around and yelled out, "This gal here's the only Flatlander I eva liked!" I wanted to make a run for it and he gave me a big hug. He really is a wonderful person and made sure that no one tormented me the whole time I was there-at least not to my face!
I have to add that through the whole time and trials of before I moved to Maine and my survival after is certainly owed mainly to the support of my parents. I speak to them on a daily basis. (They have to call me since I do not have any long distance-and still do not!). They spend their winters in Florida and always love to tell me the difference in temperature between the two states and of how they spent the day playing tennis or lying in their pool while I am proudly breaking ice in the barn to feed the sheep! I love them and they eventually moved up for the summers to make sure that my lawn is mowed-because they knew that I would rather have my sheep do it!
And then I joined the Grange. But that is yet, another story.
OMG this is so funny! Love the moose..
ReplyDeleteHey , Great stories
ReplyDelete