My Dad was a Farm Boy

My mother has been cleaning out her home and passing on many of her treasures.  Some of those treasures were my dad's.  My dad grew up on a farm and he learned at a young age, 5, to milk cows.  It was a part of his chores everyday to milk the cows.  He would tell a story about how he would squirt the milk at the barn cats and they use there paws to wave the milk into their mouth.  I am still a little skeptical of that story, but who knows it might not be one of his tall tales.



My Dad at 5 getting ready to milk a cow.

One of the things my mom gave me was the kerosene lantern my dad would take with him to the barn every morning. I remember when I was a kid that the lantern would come out when our electricity would go out.  My dad would use the occasion to lecture us on lantern safety and tell us about the time his jacket caught on fire.  He said one of his older brothers saw my dad on fire and threw him on the ground to smother the fire out.  My dad warned us, if we ever caught on fire not to run, but throw yourself down and roll on the fire like his brother had done to him.  He always said his brother saved his life that day because my dad was getting ready to run in panic.

Dietz Kerosene Lantern

That was how my dad was. He was always telling you some story to teach you something or sometimes to pull your leg.  You weren't always sure which one it was.  Regardless, I treasure all those stories now and wish he had told me more.  Miss you Dad.