I spent my summers on a farm so it felt familiar when I stepped inside the barn and smelled the hay and oiled leather, and the pungent sharp odor of ‘cow’.
The motes of dust that drift down in the beams of sunlight have always have seemed ‘church like’ to me.
In Johnson City they still honor their German heritage and have preserved this living history farm depicting family life as it was in the early 1900s.
Outside the barn the farmer had just run water to make a mud puddle for the young pigs and they were squealing and tripping over one another in anticipation of a good wallow! The only thing that interested them more was whether or not the farmer had thought to bring along the feed too! They even got out of the mud to check it out.
And in the house a sweet German Frau showed us how to make cheese. The cloth she is holding is almost scalding. She said that we wouldn’t be able to hold it…her hands had toughened over the years.
She was wonderful with the kids and had them helping her with the ‘chores’
