Down on the Farm

When I was a child, my parents would drive my siblings and I over to my grandparents' farm every summer to help them for a couple of weeks. Us kids would all complain about going to the farm, because we would rather have stayed home and played with our friends. Upon arrival, however, we always had fun and quickly forgot about wanting to be with our friends.

The Guernsey cows were the highlight of my grandparents' farm. White and brown with crystal brown eyes, their funny big tongues would reach out to take sugar cubes from our little hands. We would all steal sugar cubes just to feel their scratchy tongues. My grandmother would be angry when we did this, and tell us that the sugar would spoil their milk. The cows were gentle as can be, but the mean bull on the farm would sometimes break through the fence and chase their dog. We always kept our distance and never gave him sugar.

The peach orchard on the farm was ripe when we visited—our parents always planned it this way. We would use ladders to pick the peaches out of the trees, because my grandmother did not want any of the peaches from the ground. She would can the peaches and store the cans in her basement. Us kids would take the peaches down there for her, but I was terrified of their basement because of the stories that my brother would tell me. With dirt and spiderwebs in the corners, he convinced me that there were monsters in the basement.

 On the farm, there was a barn and an old gas station. My grandparents ran a gas station and a small restaurant on their farm when my mom was a child. The gas station had closed years ago, but it still had the original counters where they used to sell homemade pies. My grandmother used to make funny-sounding desserts like, "Shoofly Pie" and "Iced Sarsaparilla". Sasaparilla looked like iced tea, but tasted like root beer. Her coffee also had a silly name, "Chock Full 'O Nuts,” but it just smelled like plain coffee. 

My grandparents also had a decorative parlor in their house, but we were not allowed to play in it because it was full of delicate items. Its uncomfortable couch was covered in hard plastic. Musical instruments and paintings were spread across the room, because my grandmother was an artist and a musician. She had a small piano, violin and accordion. A beautiful painting of a young woman with curly, dark hair in a round frame was encapsulated with oval glass in the parlor. I was told that this young woman was a self-portrait that my grandmother painted when she was a teenager. She also painted Hex Signs, which were requested by other farmers. These were large, circular signs with colorful and ornate designs that were said to bring luck and a prolific harvest.

 My grandfather was quite the character and had strange pets. His sheep dog was named Daisy, and he had other animals like wild birds, which were more like foster animals that had been hurt and could not fly. He once had a baby raccoon, but had to let it free when it started to sneak into cabinets and drawers in the house. Another time, he placed his garden snails in his fish tank when he heard that they could help clean the tank. To my grandmother's dismay, they crawled out and made home in the kitchen. 

Both of my grandparents passed away years ago, but I still remember going to the farm during the summers, picking peaches and feeding the spotted cows. To this day, when my family drives past a field of cows, I like to roll down my window and "moo" to the cows.

Vickie Rotkovich

lives in Colorado with her husband, son and two dogs. She served ten years in the US Army which is where she met her husband. She works as an Executive Assistant and in her free time enjoys the outdoors, doing cross stitching and crossword puzzles.