This just shows how people think of things differently when they are used to cold weather than I do in nice, warm Arizona. To me, if it is snowing so hard that you cannot see more than a few feet in front of you, the blizzard is already there. To Uncle Danny, it’s just “coming up”.
In Arizona, all it takes to get rid of flying insects is low temperatures. The flies where Uncle Danny lives can only be eliminated by a blizzard. Those are tough flies compared to Arizona.
Uncle Danny would rather have snow and cold than flies?! I really don’t like flies either, but I’d rather deal with them than work in the snow and cold!
And when tractors replaced horses – no horseflies! Re yesterday and the smelly pigs: I grew up on a farm, and in the 60s we raised 500 per year and no complaints of the smell. They had 60 acres of pasture and woodlands to roam over. In fall, they were turned into the cornfields – thus no combining expenses or waste management – it was all spread out and plowed under for the next years fields. The end was the slaughterhouse, but at least they were allowed freedom to roam – unlike today when thousands are packed in a building. Progress!
I had an aunt who farmed, upstream of Winnipeg (in NW Minnesota.) After a farm accident took her husband in the 1930’s, she ran the farm alone, while raising two young sons. Before she could afford a tractor, she plowed with mules. When I first visited them, they were keeping dairy cows. Later in life, they stopped keeping animals to concentrate on crops – mostly wheat and sunflowers. Some years, they would close up the farm in winter, and spend a few months, working in Arizona.
The last time I visited her, she had retired. The land had been passed on to her children and grandchildren. But, she still lived in a small house on the original property. As we walked around it, she reminisced, pointing out the barn door’s upper hinge, still twisted from a time a tornado brushed past it, cutting a path between barn and house; the place where wolves had made a trail behind the barn; and she could tell me a tale for every tree in the windbreak – when it was planted and by whom.
This suburban/city kid will always marvel at how farmers connect to their land (flies and all.)
Templo S.U.D. almost 7 years ago
“No flies” does sound good.
howtheduck almost 7 years ago
This just shows how people think of things differently when they are used to cold weather than I do in nice, warm Arizona. To me, if it is snowing so hard that you cannot see more than a few feet in front of you, the blizzard is already there. To Uncle Danny, it’s just “coming up”.
In Arizona, all it takes to get rid of flying insects is low temperatures. The flies where Uncle Danny lives can only be eliminated by a blizzard. Those are tough flies compared to Arizona.
jpayne4040 almost 7 years ago
Uncle Danny would rather have snow and cold than flies?! I really don’t like flies either, but I’d rather deal with them than work in the snow and cold!
sandpiper almost 7 years ago
Michael is sub-consciously learning of differing perspectives
Kalkkuna almost 7 years ago
For farmers, when life is bad it’s still pretty good…
ksu71 almost 7 years ago
I don’t mind regular flies but I sure don’t care for black flies.
chuck_sa almost 7 years ago
I like all four seasons, rain, mow, rake and shovel.
GirlGeek Premium Member almost 7 years ago
Flies are bad mmm’kay
Linguist almost 7 years ago
I’m reminded of that old song, I Know Where the Flies Go, In the Wintertime.
ladykat almost 7 years ago
I believe the farm is in Manitoba; if so, the mosquitoes and flies are notorious for their size and ferocity.
LV1951 almost 7 years ago
And, no mosquitoes!
tuslog1964 almost 7 years ago
And when tractors replaced horses – no horseflies! Re yesterday and the smelly pigs: I grew up on a farm, and in the 60s we raised 500 per year and no complaints of the smell. They had 60 acres of pasture and woodlands to roam over. In fall, they were turned into the cornfields – thus no combining expenses or waste management – it was all spread out and plowed under for the next years fields. The end was the slaughterhouse, but at least they were allowed freedom to roam – unlike today when thousands are packed in a building. Progress!
Doug A4 almost 7 years ago
Ms. Johnson—Very nice artwork! I enjoy your “Cartoon” art very much, but it’s nice to see you toss a change of pace every now an then…..
ellisaana Premium Member almost 7 years ago
I had an aunt who farmed, upstream of Winnipeg (in NW Minnesota.) After a farm accident took her husband in the 1930’s, she ran the farm alone, while raising two young sons. Before she could afford a tractor, she plowed with mules. When I first visited them, they were keeping dairy cows. Later in life, they stopped keeping animals to concentrate on crops – mostly wheat and sunflowers. Some years, they would close up the farm in winter, and spend a few months, working in Arizona.
The last time I visited her, she had retired. The land had been passed on to her children and grandchildren. But, she still lived in a small house on the original property. As we walked around it, she reminisced, pointing out the barn door’s upper hinge, still twisted from a time a tornado brushed past it, cutting a path between barn and house; the place where wolves had made a trail behind the barn; and she could tell me a tale for every tree in the windbreak – when it was planted and by whom.
This suburban/city kid will always marvel at how farmers connect to their land (flies and all.)
Kind&Kinder almost 7 years ago
The best of all possible worlds is when we find a way to make peace with whatever is going on in our lives and find a little joy!