This is the view from my bedroom window. It looks like the pretty, picture-perfect, peaceful pastoral scene until...5:46 AM when all you hear is BAAA, BAAAA, BAAAAAA!!

This is the view from my bedroom window. It looks like the picture-perfect, peaceful pastoral scene until...5:46 AM when all you hear is BAAA, BAAAA, BAAAAAA!!

Perception and reality are often two different things. I was reading a historical novel recently and nearly couldn’t finish it. It was clear the author had never spent more than a day observing modern farming life let alone nineteenth century practices. So much of the life the author depicted for the characters seemed to come from casual observance of rural pictures and not a true understanding of the constant hard work involved. Characters with too much spare time and having first time experiences that would have come years earlier for a person actually living in that era were a few of the mistakes that made this book unbelievable for me.

Marrying into the family I did has given me a truer glimpse of the daily labor of our ancestors. I was raised in a family with household chores. We also grew a substantial garden each year. My parents taught me to work, but I was unprepared for the significantly higher workload accomplished by my in-laws on their ranch. These people know what work is. They work hard for long hours day after day because that’s what it takes to run a farm–and that’s with tractors and four wheelers. So as I observe the quintessential rural picture from my bedroom window, I remember that perception is not always reality.

(Note: For an excellent depiction of farm life read: Little Britches: Father and I Were Ranchers by Ralph Moody)

littlebritches