THOSE LAZY, HAZY, CRAZY DAYS OF SUMMER

Lunch at the ranch.
Published in Intermountain Farm and Ranch on August 5, 2011

“Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer,

Those days of soda and pretzels and beer.

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.

You’ll wish that summer could always be here.”

Do any of you remember hearing Nat King Cole sing that song? He was one of my favorite vocalists back then. The words of that song, as I look at summer, make me wonder who has a “lazy, hazy, crazy” day when living on the farm. Let me take that back, there are a lot of “crazy days.”  But once the tractors pull into the field in the spring, there is no such thing as a “lazy” day on the farm.

The long days and the warm weather when you can do so much more outside, are something to look forward to, yeah those things are good. But lazy? No such word in a farmer’s vocabulary

            As we drive home from the ranch in the evening with a load of hay, we pass a lot of our urban cousins in vehicles towing boats either to or from Black Tail for a “lazy, hazy, crazy” summer evening on the lake. Is there a touch of envy in this for me? Sometimes. But there is also contentment in our way of life.

            I’m transported back to my teenage years and the fun and “crazy” things we did. Mother used to make homemade root beer. (Those bottles have been known to explode on the fruit room shelves on a summer night. Maybe that’s one of the “crazies”.)  When we worked in the hay, she would have a quart or two of that special brew in the fridge at all times. My mouth waters right now as I think about that cold homemade root beer.

            As kids we would work in the fields and then spend our evenings running around with our friends. We had endless energy, but no money. Of course, gas only cost $.20 a gallon so we didn’t need much money. We would go swimming in Sand Creek, play volley ball at Tautphaus Park, or sit around and visit. Sometimes we would be out late because of the long days. Then it would be hard for us to get up in the mornings so we could get our work done.

            Dad made homemade ice cream – well actually Mother stirred up the mix for the ice cream and Dad and the kids did the work of turning the handle of the ice cream maker. We would go into Idaho Falls to get the ice and then each of us six kids would take a turn turning the handle. We looked forward to when the paddles were taken out of the can and we could get our first good taste of that cold, smooth, treat. No store purchased ice cream has even compared with Dad’s homemade.

            If it rained enough that the farm work stopped, we would pack up and go to Mack’s Inn in Island Park, rent a cabin, and spend a couple of days. Uncle Lawrence, Aunt Zola and their family usually went with us. Dad and Uncle Lawrence fished while we kids played in the river. This tradition of a rainy day activity carried over into our married life. Our youngest son, Jon, mentioned just the other day that he never remembered going to Mack’s Inn during good weather, it was always raining. Maybe it’s because of these memories that I love to travel in a storm!

            Summers are full of hard work on the farm – early rising, many times late retiring; and if irrigating there is the nocturnal work that goes with it. But there’s usually is time for a picnic out on the deck, or a ride to see the wild animals in the evening at the ranch. These are our “lazy” times. We are blessed to be farmers!