Another lesson.

For the next ten years Daddy, with Mom at his side, improved their property by remodeling the house, adding a bathroom and developing a new water system. By using good farming practices the land became more fertile, which meant better crops and any extra money was invested in more land. By this time, my brother George’s family was growing and he found a steady job in the logging industry and helped on the farm when he had days off. Mona and I became Daddies right hand “men”, always with him whether it was milking cows, taking care of the animals or harvesting the crops. Mona was especially good on horseback and spent most of her time riding the range, checking on the animals and moving them to better pasture when needed. We could both drive at the age of ten and spent much more time on a tractor, wearing jeans and T-shirts than in the house learning how to cook, sew or do laundry.

I remember learning how to mow hay on a hot July day. All of Daddies jobs were stacking up as he had hay that was ready to bale and a field that needed mowing. After breakfast that morning he said, “Della, do you think you can mow that field of alfalfa today?”  “I think so Daddy, I’ve driven the tractor and raked hay lots of times. I would like to mow because I love the smell of freshly cut alfalfa.” “Mowing is a little different than raking, you have to be very careful of what you are doing, with the power take off and the sickle blade both to worry about. Come with me now and I’ll get you started. We’ll see how you do.”

After about four rounds of Daddy riding on the tractor with me, I was able to push or pull the right lever to raise the sickle at the end of every row, make a big wide turn and come back around, then lower the sickle and start cutting right where I had left off. I had such a feeling of pride that I could again help my dad, so his workload was lessened.

“Okay Sister, looks like you’ve got it, just keep the tractor in this gear, don’t try to go any faster and pay attention!  I’ll be back at lunch time to see how you are doing.”

We all worked hard, played very little, but it was never enough. Several years in the early spring both Mom and Dad worked in the local potato cellars sorting and cutting potatoes for the spring planting. They did everything possible to bring in extra money to survive the long winters. I’ve heard a trite saying, “If one works hard, he will be lucky.”  That didn’t happen with my Dad; no matter how hard he worked he again found himself drowning in debt. 

Mona and I had both graduated from high school; she married in 1956 and moved back East and I started Cosmetology School in June of 1960. That left Daddy without a “right hand man”, he couldn’t do all the farming himself. The decision was made to sell the ranch.

A buyer was found, equipment auctioned off, debts paid. A new place to live was built on a knoll overlooking the valley and Jug Handle Mountain. It looked like Daddy’s luck might change. He could work odd jobs that would bring in enough money for them to live a simple life. Maybe travel a little, enjoy grandchildren, and even have time to go fishing. It would be like retirement but he could still keep busy.