Happy New Year to our fan club!  These new parents were in bed by 11:30pm.  We are wintering at our home in Bethlehem, PA, and got to see fireworks out of our bedroom window.  The red, green, and white display was a real treat with my pajamas.  January has found me researching seeds, tractor implements, and marketing options.  Joe is searching for the best camper for his little family.  I'm looking forward to family camping.  Fern is looking forward to riding in wagons pulled  by her dog friends.
    We've been checking in with other farmer friends, exchanging magazines and books eagerly.  One of them showed me how to carry Fern without using my hands with four different techniques of wrapping fabric.  I have begun with the front carry in the center of my chest.  She really likes it since we can make eye contact and she can fall asleep to my heartbeat.  Now I can type and move about more freely.   What a difference! 
    As I prepare to be on the farm with my new family, I have found myself reflecting on my farming ancestors. My great-grandparents Violet and Edgar McElheny used mules to raise grains and hay for their farm and sale.  Their farm was sustainable, all their meats harvested on site, served with lots of homegrown potatoes.  My Dad remembers a cold room with a giant butcher block table holding an entire slab of bacon.  They would just go out and cut off when they wanted to cook.  Dad said they always worked hard, ate well, and were happy.  Nothing was wasted-Edgar would drink the water in which potatoes were boiled.  I wish I could have known them.  Such a wealth of unrecorded knowledge.  I'm sure they found their medicines in the forest and in their foods.  Lately I've been probing my father about his memories of them and their techniques around the homestead.  I'm sure they'd be proud of our choice to build a homestead that is self-sustaining, raising a family with good foods to eat, and sharing the abundance with our neighbors.  I wish I could go on a field walk with Edgar, or sit with Violet on the front porch rocking chairs.
     Another farming relative is my grandmother's little brother Charles Krug a..k.a. Uncle Sonny.  Throughout my upbringing I would occasionally hang out with him and his trio of small mules Gus, Festus, and Zeke.  They pulled a covered wagon that he used in Appalachian Wagontrain re-enactments.  He also kept a large mule and a couple of horses.  These mules would occassionally go logging in his woodlot.  I loved listening to him speaking to his animals, requesting their help rather than forcing them to work.  I don't remember them doing any field work, although he did raise small grains.  Uncle Sonny died in 2002.  After he had worked the mules in the morning, he went in his house for lunch, sat down and passed away.  I'm sure he'd love to chip in his two cents right now,.  I often invoke his memory when we play horseshoes after a hard day's work.   I'd like to use mule power on our farm someday and treasure the little bits I've learned from him.  I expect to add them to the homestead in the next three years. Wish me luck! 

 

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