Principal's Pennings
Principal's Pennings
We often ride bikes along the Little Blue River in Independence. It’s one time we get away from the phone and pretend we have nothing to do. Sometimes we leave the bikes and take the dogs. We don’t have young children anymore to help remind us to stop and admire the changing leaves or flowers, but dogs do almost the same thing. They can’t just walk three miles at a steady pace, they have to stop and smell the leaves, grass, trees, or whatever. So, while they are using their olfactory senses, we take time to use our visual senses.
Growing up in the country in the middle of Nebraska as a teenager left little availability for summer jobs. Some of my friends worked at the one drive-in that was in town, but mainly the “town” kids did that. We “country” kids were probably expected to work on the farm. My parents rarely disagreed on anything, but they did disagree on one thing, and that was how I was to spend my summers as a 15-20 year old. Mother maintained that I should get a more “lady like” job, being a waitress in a local café. Dad said I should work on the farm, helping him so he didn’t have to hire a hired man. I don’t recall having a lot to say about it, because this seemed to be a parental decision at the time. I do remember thinking I’d much rather work with my father, although that was much harder work. Dad won every year, which meant I got up at 5:00 am to irrigate, dig ditches, mow grassland, rake, stack, fix fence (not good at that!), feed cattle, or whatever. It was very hard work, but the benefits were fantastic: room and board, great company, lots of positive reinforcement, lots of joking around, lots of fatherly wisdom shared. My wages? NOTHING! I knew it from the beginning. There would be no paycheck, work seven days a week (cows need to be fed, even on Sunday) and not even the 4th of July off! I did get a $2.00 a week allowance, though, which covered a weekend movie and snack afterward.
Do you have an inkling of what your children will be when they grow up? As teachers look over their children in the classroom, they sometimes wonder what their “charges” will do when they reach adulthood. Will the studious ones become the teachers, lawyers, or doctors? What will become of the class clowns? Those of us who have taught for several years, long enough for some of our students to grow up and have careers and families of their own, can tell you that there are surprises, and most of them very pleasant surprises.
It is a common practice on the farm, that when any newborn animal, such as a calf, lamb, or piglet is orphaned at birth, the job of the farmer is to find a new mother for the baby or it will die. Often a new mother is found who has lost her own young offspring. Seems like a perfect match, right? It might be a perfect match, but it isn’t that easy. The new mother would probably reject the lamb because by smell, the mother can tell it is not her own. What is often done, then, is to take part of the dead lamb’s hide and cover the orphaned lamb with that hide. The mother then holds the lamb at bay until she sniffs it well. Finally, satisfied with her nose inspection, she lets the lamb feed. The covering provided by the shepherd (farmer) was of her essence, and she accepted it. Had it not been of her essence, she would have rejected it.
I REMEMBER................
What are special things you remember about your parents during your childhood? I remember my mother “pretending” to be “Grandma” to my dolls. She could do this while carrying on her task of making dinner, washing dishes, whatever. I remember my father taking me out of school a couple times, just a little early, to take me fishing. I remember my mother teaching me to make bread and posters for 4-H projects. I remember my dad stopping his fence building once, just to drive the pick-up along side of me to satisfy my curiosity as to how fast I could run. I remember my mother playing Canasta with me when I was bored. I remember my dad letting me paint his toenails red while he read the newspaper (a decision he regretted for at least a month!). I remember my mother taking me weekly to the library. I remember my father pausing in the milking the cows routine to play catch with me a bit. I remember...............