Monday, August 21, 2006

City mouse, country mouse

Today we went to a growing project harvest (where a field is harvested and donated toward ending hunger in developing countries) and Marcel and I were once again reminded that we are raising city girls. Our daughters have turned into those girls that us "country girls" used to turn our noses at (and, to be honest, be a little envious of at the same time).
- they don't know what a combine is (yes, Nikki called it a "turbine" on her blog)
- they are squeamish of bugs
- they whine about standing around in a field for an hour
- they make faces at the smell of pig manure
- only one of them has any interest in riding a combine (that would be Julie)
- they don't know that wheat makes flour which in turn makes our bread
- they forget that milk comes from cows
- the stubble was too scratchy for their legs, so they went to sit in the car
- they wanted to come home to watch TV

Sigh. I think we need to send them to a farm for a week. Too bad they can't go visit Grandpa's farm, where they used to gather eggs and feed the pigs.

D&L, wanna take them?


Liz said...

When our girls were little, my husband was adamant that he didn't want girls who would squeal when they saw bugs, so he took them out and turned over rocks and logs and examine the bugs that would be under them. They were fascinated by the little critters when they were little.

Now that they are teens, they squeal when they see spiders or bees. And we live in the woods where they are unavoidable!

I was a country girl too and spent long hours in hay fields and hay lofts and the squealing gets to me.

I think they will appreciate it all when they are older though, don't you think?

The very nice man said...

Gorram kids, one of these days the electricity will run out and then they will be utterly lost! I had my son (then 16 years old) ask me to take his bicycle to be repaired because it had a puncture!!
I thought he was having a joke but he really did not know how to do it.
I blame his father!
P.S.: I am only the step-dad so I am in the clear (I guess)!
Nevermind . . my parents were griping about us kids and we have done OK.

Coll said...

Every city kid needs to spend a day or so in the country and on a farm. For us, it was my aunts farm near Binscarth. Every summer we spent a week there. I still treasure the memories and am so thankful for the experience.

ccap said...

Oh man, that's just a little heartbreaking.

Amber said...

I am a city girl through and through. After spending weekends and holidays on my grandparent's farm growing up, I always hated the smell of manure and the animals!

Bobita said...

My daughter said to me just this morning...

"Daddy says I'm a cowgirl, Mom. Because I help him feed the cows. But I don't have a cowgirl hat!"

I love that the Irreverent One is teaching my die-hard Princess that she can feed cows and MUST own a pair of farm boots!!

I better get on that cowgirl hat!

oshee said...

My dad grew up farming. My grandpa lived on that farm until he died. My dad soured on the farm life and instead went to school and became a dentist. We would visit granny and grandpa tho and walk down the dirt road and play in all the old broken farm equipment. I remember picking cotton from the fields and dreaming that I could spin it into gold.

Even so, I am at heart a city-girl and always will be. I do however, have extreme respect for those who work so hard for so little.

Dale said...

Pfff. Kids, eh? I love the photo, Heather!

D&L said...

They're welcome here,though I'm afraid our boys wouldn't have passed nearly all those tests either:( What's with kids these days? :) I think every generation has some of these thoughts about the one that follows. I feel like a failure 'cause my kids aren't interested in farm stuff, but to be completely honest my interest was pretty meager when I was their age. Here's hoping that'll change someday.

Judy said...

I will always remember a conversation with my oldest when he was a child of 2.

HE was trying to explain to ME the difference in chickens.

No No No, he said. Not the kind you eat! The kind that live on a farm!

He lives on a horse farm now.

Janet said...

Isn't that funny?

My mother lived on a farm in Arkansas as a girl, so I grew up hearing stories about milking cows, wringing the necks of chickens, exchanging eggs for piano lessons, etc. I never lived on a farm as a kid, but we did live in a very small, rural, Illinois town during my junior and senior high days.

During my first year of college, I met a grad student in "animal husbandry" (CUTE guy -- looked like a tall Ryan O'Neal) who was determined to make a "farmer's wife" out of me. I didn't go for THAT idea at ALL. I wanted to be a "city girl". So we didn't date long, and I hear that I broke his heart.

So eventually I lived in Houston, I lived in Manhattan, and then I lived in Houston again. And NOW I live on the edge of a rural Oxfordshire village, where there are fields and cows across the road and next door to the house. And I love it. I love the sounds, smells, and the loose bits of hay on the roads during bailing season.

And my "city boy" husband seems to be enjoying it, too.

Life takes interesting turns, doesn't it?


Amber said...

Just checking in to see any new updates??!