Natural exercise

By Rennie Phillips

Growing up in the country in Nebraska was quite an experience. Mom and Dad owned some land and raised Herford cattle as well as milked a good number of Jersey Brown Swiss cross milk cows. It seemed like growing up there were always things to do. Some of it was definitely work, but most of it was enjoyable work -- almost fun enough to not even call it work.

In the summer there was always a garden. Dad always planted a bunch of potatoes so they needed caring for. One of the tasks for us kids was to pick the potato bugs off the potato vines and drop them in a can of coal oil. We could have smashed them as we picked them, but it was easier to put an inch or so of coal oil in a metal Folgers coffee can and drop them in it. I can't remember how often we picked the bugs off the vines, but it seemed like every day.

Starting toward the middle of June we'd be putting up hay. We would use a sickle mower on the grass and alfalfa, then a 12- or 14-foot horse dump rake to put it into wind rows before Dad would stack the hay. We used an International Cub to pull the dump rake. Dad would make about a three- or four-ton pile of hay, which was about an 18-foot square that was probably about 10 to 12 feet high. These would be loaded on a sled and hauled during the winter to feed the cattle. Dad used an old Jayhawk to stack the hay. Dad used a tractor, but the Jayhawk originally was used with horses.

Every now and then a cow would get out where they weren't supposed to be, so we'd have to go drive her back onto Dad's land. Most of the time we'd get one of our saddle horses in and use them to drive the cow back into the right pasture. Then we'd have to find where she had gotten out and fix the fence. Usually we'd have to put in some posts and stretch the barb wire back tight. Most of Dad's fences were three barb-wire fences.

When it cooled down in the fall and the nights were down in the 30s, Dad would decide it was time to butcher. Usually we butchered a hog and a fat steer every year.

The hog was pretty easy. Normally they only weighed 250 to 275 pounds. We would skin our hogs rather then scrape the hair off. Once they were skinned we'd saw them down the backbone into halves. Dad would carry the halves into a porch off the main house and hang them up to cool. The next day or so we'd cut them up. We'd grind the sausage up using an old hand grinder. We also ground up the fat, which Mom would render into lard and cracklings.

The beef was harder. They usually would weigh 1,000 pounds or so. After Dad sawed them down the backbone into halves, he'd cut the halves into quarters. These quarters would then be carried into the porch where they'd hang for a week or so. Then we'd cut up the meat, grind the hamburger and double wrap everything to put it into the freezer.

Morning and night we'd milk the cows. Mom and Dad usually milked at least 10 or 12 cows, so normally my brother Mick and I would each milk one and maybe part of another. Dad would probably milk a couple and Mom would milk the rest. Man, she could milk a cow. After that chore, we'd carry the milk to the house, where Dad would separate the milk into skim milk and cream. My job then was to take the separated milk or skim milk out and slop the hogs. I always tried to carry two buckets to even out the load of carrying them. Mom would put the cream in an ice box. When we needed milk to drink, Mom would strain it and store it in the ice box.

Probably once a week we'd go fishing. There were times we'd drive about five miles north to Sand Pudding Lake and catch a mess of bullhead catfish. Sometimes we'd drive down to Duck Lake and also catch a mess of bullheads. There were times we'd drive up to Three Corners or Windmill Lake or down to Lake McConauhey. We always had a good time and usually ended up with a mess of fish. The more fun you had catching fish meant more work skinning when we got home.

Our days started around sunrise, or a little before, and ended at sunset, or a little after. I can't remember a time when I was bored with nothing to do. When we weren't working or sleeping, there were shells to burn, cans to shoot, or horses to ride.

Today, we have gyms on every corner and fitness centers. It seems like there is a push to exercise and workout. When populations moved from the country into cities, we sort of lost that all-of-life-is-exercise lifestyle. Now we sit at computers or use the elevator or drive here or there.

Some of us are blessed to live where can feed cattle, build fences, garden, cut wood or put up hay. Even then, things have become way too easy. You don't even have to crank up the windows in our cars.

Today, I came in at dark worn out. Granted, I'm about in that "old geezer" part of life. I grained our steers, did some plumbing and finished the day putting out a couple bales. Some will need to go to a gym or jog to get their exercise. I don't think I have enough energy left.

Spend some time walking, working or moving about. But be sure to enjoy the journey.