Childhood memories

I remember my grandparent’s farm in Magnolia Corners, Wisconsin, near Evansville. We often drove down from Madison on Saturdays to visit. When I was young, it was still a working dairy farm, with a barn full of cows, a radio playing music to keep them contented, and a hay loft full of hay for jumping in.

Even when grandpa retired from the dairy business, the barn was rented for horses or available for playing in. He used it to build child-size chairs for outdoors, something my Dad thought would help handle retirement. They had chickens as well, and kept those after selling off the cows. I remember carrying chickens by their legs, upside down, from one coop to another to help out and helping gather eggs, avoiding the hens still sitting on the eggs.

The yard was mostly gravel drive, but near the road was an apple orchard with trees suitable for climbing,  To one side of the house were corn fields and behind the barn the fenced in yard for the cows. Other outbuildings included the shed/garage for the tractor and the milk house where the milk was kept cool. There was always a dog or two and many many cats, for mouse control, and for petting.  When our cat had kittens, we kept one, and sent the mama and others to the farm. 

Our drive to the farm included listening to radio dramas, we heard reruns of The Shadow, the Lone Ranger, Fibber McGee and Molly, for example.  Once there, we raided the candy dish, after hugs, of course, then headed outside to explore, find kitties, play with the dog, look for treasures. 

The attic was fascinating to us, filled with boxes of stuff from the past, including world war uniforms, from both world wars, a K-ration box, which we opened, old school books, cut up for other reports later on, and lots of dust. Alas there were no toys, the four boys and a girl used them up, and none were saved. The old Victrola record machine would have been valuable, if my Dad hadn’t turned in into a radio. the old piano was still playable, and we heard stories of the wicked piano teacher who would rap your fingers if you didn’t play with the tips only, and the fingers arched.

The basement was really spooky, with a dirt floor and very rough concrete walls. Grandma kept her canned food down there, but the steps were steep, so we didn’t go there more than one time.

The fruit cellar was intriguing as well. A deep hole in the ground with a ladder down to shelves where root vegetables and apples were stored to help them last without refrigeration.  There was also a garbage dump for trash at some distance from the house, which we avoided because it smelled.

The area was known for very rocky soil, hence the name Rock County. I remember helping to clear rocks out of a field and discovering a fossil of a fish, and didn’t take care to keep it. It was the entire fish; about 9 inches long, and was very recognizable. Wish I still had it!

The best part of visiting the Grandparents was sharing a meal with them. We talked and ate, and made lasting memories. When they died, their possessions got distributed among the 13 grandchildren. My sister got the dry sink. the only great grandson bearing the Larsen name got the mantle clock.  Uncle Irv kept the farm and rented out the house, until a fire destroyed it. After he died, the land was sold. I have a violin from them, and hadn’t known that grandpa played for dances.

We visited the site, now cleared of buildings and orchard, and felt its loss. We have many memories to keep it alive for ourselves.  Every child should have a farm to experience in their childhood. I was blessed with three, all dairy farms, but my grandparent’s place was my favorite and the one we knew the best.