A Legacy of Love

"I want to take a picture. Can you guess why?" I asked Randy.

I made Randy pause during one of our calf-working sessions this week to take a photo of a particular ear tag. It took him awhile, but he figured it out. 039: Yes, today (March 28) we will have been married 39 years. When I saw the ear tag rise to the top of the pile, I couldn't resist. (Randy will tell you I don't need much of an excuse to take a photo anyway. You probably know that, too!)

For those of you who are math-challenged, the year was 1981 and the place was the Pratt United Methodist Church. It rained so hard during the drive to Pratt that my mom pulled over on the highway to wait until we could see again. A few guests coming from out of town were late because of the deluge.

But by the time we walked down the aisle, the rain had stopped. And, as I've said many times, rain for a couple of farm kids was a good omen. The sun was shining when we left the church after the reception. (Thankfully, we had brought Randy's car instead of mine, which was stashed 15 minutes away in one of my dad's sheds. Randy's FarmHouse "brothers" had put milo in Randy's car's vents. For someone with allergies as bad as Randy's, it would have been a long trip to Colorado.)

Thankfully, the weather in 1981 wasn't like it was in 2009. We woke up to almost 2 feet of snow on March 28, 2009. I don't think either of us would have gotten to Pratt from our respective farm homes. Randy grew up 2 miles north of our house on the County Line. He wouldn't have gotten out of his driveway. That's our car buried under all that snow in 2009. My Pratt County farm road wouldn't have been any more navigable.
We will work our final group of baby calves this afternoon. I've put steaks out to thaw and I'm making a blueberry pie. (Randy prefers pie over sappy cards, though he gave me one.)

For old times sake, I should wear this apron that we got at one of our bridal showers. They were made by Sue Thole, a Stafford farm wife who's still a matriarch at our church.

With the coronavirus, we won't be going out to eat or going to a movie. After a day of working together, that would have been the extent of the celebration anyway. Eating at home isn't out of the ordinary for us - Covid-19 or not. And working together in a family business is something we saw modeled for us.

I've thought about it a lot this week. We were both blessed to grow up in families whose parents and grandparents modeled a legacy of love and hard work.

 

Randy's folks - Melvin & Marie (Ritts) Fritzemeier - were married April 29, 1951, at the Stafford UMC.

We still walk down those church steps - at least when not kept away by social distancing.

My parents were married August 12, 1953, at the Byers United Methodist Church.

But the legacy goes back even further. I don't have wedding photos of all of our grandparents. My Grandma and Grandpa Neelly were married May 20, 1934, at her parents' farm home.

My dad's parents - Lester and Orva Moore - were married January 24, 1932. There was no photo of their wedding available, but my mom included these photos in a history book.

They lived on the family homestead. However, Lester Moore died when my dad was only 9 years old in November 1943.

 

Orva Moore married the only grandpa I ever knew on that side of the family - LaVern Leonard - on December 28, 1952.

Randy's grandparents - Clarence & Ava Fritzemeier were married March 4, 1926. I found a photo from the wedding of one of Clarence's sisters, so I don't know why I couldn't find one from Clarence and Ava's special day. But I did find a certificate and a bridal memory book (copyright 1919).

Marie's dad, Alvin Ritts, was a Methodist minister, so he - along with Randy's grandma Laura (Russell) Ritts - lived a life in parsonages, different from the farm upbringing of the rest of our family. I don't know their wedding date, but I found a photo from what I assume is their wedding day.

Alvin & Laura Ritts - undated

Like my dad, Marie lost her father at a young age. Alvin Ritts died from a heart attack when Marie was only 12. The family moved to Stafford, where Laura took care of elderly family members. And the rest, as they say, is history.

When I was digging through old family photos yesterday, the oldest wedding photo I found was from 1905 - Simon and Augusta Fritzemeier - married in 1905. They were Randy's paternal great-grandparents.

Simon & Augusta Fritzemeier - Melvin's grandparents - 1905

Most of our grandparents were at our March 1981 wedding.

From left: L.C. & Orva Leonard; Shelby & Lela Neelly; us; Laura Ritts; Clarence & Ava Fritzemeier.

I couldn't resist including another couple of photos I uncovered. They are practically antiques - but not quite. 

 Taken at a bridal shower back in 1981

Taken at our first house. It was "fancy." We had a dressing room. OK - the truth. The bed was the only thing that would fit in the bedroom. Even then we could barely walk in the door of the room. We had our dressers in the next bedroom.

Marrying Randy was the best decision I've ever made. I'm thankful every day for this life we live together.

From the combine, wheat harvest, June 2019

Building Fence: A Link to Memories

 

I lifted my foot from the accelerator and did my mental, "one little second, two little second, three little second ... " all the way to six little seconds.

Randy and I were building fence. Well, Randy was building fence while I drove the pickup to carry the fencing supplies. My life on a farm truly has come full circle. I was probably 6 years old the first time I drove a pickup for fence building.

Kim - May 1965 - Almost 8 years old

My dad was the guy who hopped on the back of the pickup between fence post intervals way back when.

It was a bit like looking in a rearview mirror to see where you've been, I suppose.

During this latest fence-building expedition, Randy initially was telling me when to start and stop. But after awhile, I started counting the seconds between fence posts and we developed an unspoken rhythm for the work. (Hence the "one little second ..." chant.)

The fence building isn't just a deju vu experience for me. There's plenty of Randy's past tied up in the tools we use. That's especially true for the Ford 8N tractor.

These days, we have a wire winder on the back and use it for rolling out electric fence so we can move cattle to stalks for grazing.

The wire winder itself is homemade from a Model T frame, adding to the longevity of this farm workhorse.

 

 I think the rust is the only thing holding the tractor together these days.

But there is something about tradition. That tractor seat has been occupied with five different generations now. 

Melvin and Clarence bought the tractor back in the 1960s, when Randy was in grade school.

Clarence (Randy's Grandpa, seated), his Dad Melvin and Randy holding Brent in 1988. 

Clarence and Melvin used it to load silage for feeding cattle. Randy remembers using it to pull a two-row John Deere planter when they planted milo. He also cultivated milo with it when he was junior high age.

Now he uses it to roll out wire.

That wire also tells a story. There is about 1 1/2 miles of wire on each spool. At one time, Randy says they had 12 miles of wire and posts they used for temporary fencing projects.  Over the years, he's had to discard some of the rusty sections of fence that have fallen victim to inclement weather and age.

Randy says that he used to find splices in the wire that he could attribute to his dad. Melvin twisted the wire a bit differently than Randy does. So the farming legacy stretched between the two generations even after Melvin's death.

And who knows how long that tool has been called into service for fencing projects?

But all those tools - and yes, the aging people - are still getting the job done.

The fence went around sudan fields and milo stalks. Many years, we bale sudan. This year, the crop wasn't very abundant. Randy did swath the edges of the fields to make it easier to put up fence.

Last week, after the "ladies" got their OB/GYN checkups with Dr. Bruce, we moved them to the stalks for a little winter dining.

They were ready to check out their new "digs."

Now if only the deer would quit crashing in to the fence.

Don't Fence Me In

 

My first job on the farm was driving the pickup while my dad built or picked up electric fence.

I was 6 at the time.

This winter, I returned to my roots. But instead of driving the pickup for my dad, I was helping Randy. There were some differences.

• I can now reach the brake and the gas with no problem. My sister, Lisa, and I were a tag team back in the olden days.
• I was helping on the Stafford/Reno County line rather than northern Pratt County.
• Back then, I wouldn't have gotten away with saying, "Wait just a minute while I get a photo."

Randy is used to my photo obsession. And since I was the only available worker, he put up with my need to stop and focus on the meadowlark watching our progress from the fence post. And, really, he's the one who called my attention to it in the first place. What could he expect?

Randy rode on the tailgate, and I drove the pickup between electric fence posts, where he'd jump off and toss each in the back of the pickup.

Back in the 1960s, I didn't have to help wind wire onto the spool. So I learned a new job. (Maybe he said OK to all the photos because he knew I was going to eventually be wielding a pitchfork - ha!)

The wire was threaded between the tines of the pitchfork, and I was supposed to gently move the handle back and forth to evenly distribute the wire on the spool.

 I couldn't keep from channeling the American Gothic painting as I did the job.

And, besides, Randy is always glad to get a photo with the old Ford 8N tractor.

There is something about tradition. That tractor seat has been occupied with five different generations now.  Melvin and Clarence bought the tractor back in the 1960s, when Randy was in grade school. They used it to load silage for feeding cattle. Randy remembers using it to pull a two-row John Deere planter when they planted milo. He also cultivated milo with it when he was junior high age.

Clarence (Randy's Grandpa, seated), his Dad Melvin and Randy holding Brent in 1988.

Randy was insistent that the tractor served as a focal point for a 2012 Easter-time photo with Kinley and Jill. (I should have taken a photo with Randy and the girls when they were here this fall.)

April 2012

The wire winder itself is homemade from a Model T frame, adding to the longevity of this farm workhorse.

It may be tired, but it's not retired. Come to think of it, that could apply to Randy and me, too.