Innehållsförteckning för July 2020 från Country Extra

Free Spirit My youngest daughter, Eleanor, is 2 years old and a true farm girl. She spends most of her days outside from morning to evening playing with her kitties and running around the yard. My husband, Trisdan, built this tire swing on our farm for her to play on, and she can easily while away the hours swaying to and fro. (Truth be told, her older brothers enjoy it just as much as she does, but I’m happy they’re willing to take turns!) This picture perfectly captures the carefree joy and beauty of late summer evenings on our farm.…

ONE BLISTERING HOT JULY, I drove with my friends Pam and Carie from Wisconsin to California in a run-down old Chevette with no air conditioning. That may not sound like fun, but a July Fourth overnight stop in a steep mountainside town that looked straight out of a Clint Eastwood Western was a blast. Welcome to Virginia City, Nevada. Imagine dusty streets lined with wooden boardwalks, honky-tonk saloons, jangling spurs and stones in the ancient fenced cemetery most likely inscribed with names of gunfight victims from another era. If you want a flash from the past, you’ll find it here in spades. We bunked at Edith Palmer’s Country Inn in the same room where Marilyn Monroe stayed while filming The Misfits with Clark Gable in nearby Dayton. After unpacking, we…

The road to our farm climbs a long hill that drops you right by our driveway. On a sunny day, the wind turbines surrounding our land turn in the distance, the cows graze on emerald green grass and you can hear laughter as my three children play in the yard. Our farm is about 20 minutes outside of Madison, Wisconsin’s capital, but you wouldn’t know it standing on our land. We live in the most peaceful countryside—green, open and beautiful. In the distance, I can see sparrows chasing each other through patches of alfalfa. The tractors are tuned and fueled, and the haybines and choppers are ready to go. I came to this farm when Dennis and I married in 2011. I was a city girl who knew nothing about…

Growing up in Battle Creek, Michigan, Larry Newman always wanted to live on a farm. Starting one after high school was just too expensive, so he chose to be an electrician instead. Still, his fascination with this simple, honest way of life never left him. Instead of planting rows, Larry became a collector and went to work restoring classic pieces of farming Americana. Visit his workshop and you’ll find an array of items: signs; cream separators; bottles, milk jars and cans; toy trucks; a gravity wagon; a circus wagon; farming tools; and tractors. Some he sells, some he keeps, and some he gives away to those who love farming history. In 2016, Larry and his wife, Diana, lost their son, Todd, to cancer. As Larry worked through his grief, he…

Failure is not supposed to be funny. It is supposed to trigger compassion, or at least commiseration or pity. We’re not supposed to laugh, but sometimes we can’t help ourselves. Millions of YouTube hits are proof that there’s no failure quite as funny as a rope-swing fail. A good belly-flop is spectacular, whether it’s executed on water or on land, and leaves everyone laughing, regardless of their race, religion or language. When our family of seven moved to a farm in southern Indiana, it didn’t take us long to beg our dad to rig up a rope swing on the edge of our pond. And when I say pond, what I mean is an algae-laden cesspool brimming with snapping turtles and water moccasins. Swimming was the only option, since wading…

n a beautiful summer day, warm and breezy with just a little humidity, the forest around me is lush and graced with evergreens as well as hardwoods—oak and maple in full leaf. Here in Pine Creek Gorge, I am just in time to catch the mountain laurel blooming. Laurel, similar to rhododendrons with dark, glossy leaves and gigantic clusters of pink or white blossoms, is Pennyslvania’s state flower. As I hike, I feel the stress and strain of my everyday life slide from my shoulders, and I haven’t even reached the edge of the canyon, where the real magic begins. “As I hike, I feel the stress and strain of my everyday life slide from my shoulders.” Tucked away in the Keystone State’s north-central region, encompassing Tioga and Lycoming counties,…

1 Point Reyes National Seashore The park is home to 1,500 species of plants and animals, including harbor seals (above). Birders report spotting 490 species in the park. nps.gov/pore 2 Salt Point State Park Hike the park’s 20 miles of trails and wander along rocky outcroppings where marine life, including starfish, abounds at low ebb in tidal pools. parks.ca.gov 3 B. Bryan Preserve Herds of zebras, giraffes and antelopes thrive on this 110-acre preserve in Point Arena. bbryanpreserve.com 4 Van Damme State Park Relax on the beach and look for seabirds like the black oystercatcher or hike into the lush fern-filled forest at this major birding hot spot. The cove is known as a nesting place for ashy storm-petrels. parks.ca.gov 5 Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens Explore 47 acres of rhododendrons,…

A few years ago, my husband and I moved into a renovated 1920s house in western Oklahoma. We wanted to live in a smaller home for our retirement years. The feature that really sold me on the house was its large front porch with a swing. Early mornings beckon my husband, still in his pajamas with coffee in hand, to the porch swing. I enjoy a little porch sitting in the early evening (but not in pajamas or my nightgown because the traffic is too close). One outcome of post-World War II American life was the decline of front porches. More ranch-style homes sprang up in the ’50s and ’60s. With the disappearance of front porches, plus the addition of fences dividing yards, America lost a small piece of its…

I was raised in a very small town in Oregon during the ’50s and ’60s. We had enough money to make it, but if it hadn’t been for my father’s wonderful garden in the summer and my mother being a fabulous cook, things would have been very different. My father planted his garden in early spring, as soon as the soil was warm enough and the danger of frost was past. I still remember the smell of the earth, freshly tilled, and waiting for the seeds and plants to start growing. Talk about organic—Dad’s garden was organic long before anyone used the term. He fertilized it with compost and manure provided by our chickens. As a child, I liked nothing better than to walk barefoot in the garden soil, looking…

EARLY ON IN OUR FAMILY LIFE, we began Picnic with Dad Day. In the summer, I picked a day each week and brought a picnic lunch to share with Dad (David) at work. I created a big feast, complete with cupcakes or cookies, to celebrate the event. At first, I packed up baby Sarah and the lunch, and we sprawled out on a blanket in the shade of the old oak tree outside David’s office to share some family time together. It was such a nice diversion for all of us—a pleasant excuse for David to connect with his family during the workday and a fun field trip for Sarah and me. As the years progressed, the dynamic of our picnic day changed. Our family grew to four children and…

While visiting his grandparents’ farm in upstate New York, my 3-year-old son, David, begged to visit the cows just a short walk across the road. He contentedly spent many hours of his vacation talking to his cow friends and watching the sky, especially the sunsets. My little cow whisperer called the cows over from the middle of the field to the gate where he waited, and they willingly came. David wasn’t the least bit afraid of them and could have sat there all day mesmerized by his new friends.…

In high school I worked at a children’s summer camp leading horsemanship classes as well as handling any misbehaving horses. A new horse showed up near the end of the summer. Midnight was her name, and she was black, 15 hands high and about 11 years old. She was last ridden two years prior when she had reared and thrown off a man, leaving him with a broken leg. Although she sounded dangerous, I wanted to check her out for myself. I had a big pasture, so at the end of summer camp, I brought Midnight home with me. She seemed calm and mellow. I spent several days gently handling her and getting acquainted with her, not wanting to take any chances. I cautiously saddled and bridled Midnight and began…