Farm boy's life packed with work, plenty of fun

Today, Gerald “Red” Sarff continues his unique way of telling his story of leaving the family farm in Minnesota and moving to Idaho. I am sharing his story with you just as he shared it with me and I am sure, if you were lucky enough to have lived on a farm, it will bring back many memories.

The month of March, we didn’t have much fun

Mostly just waiting for the spring to come

In April the water sure did run

The ground thawed out from the warming sun

 By the end of April my going to school would stop

There were so many things to do before it got hot

There was one spring day I’ll never forget

It was my sixteenth birthday and I remember it yet

Dad said, “Son, I think it’s time to make a change

If we stay on this farm we need more range”

I said, “It’s a long ways to go

But how about moving to Idaho”

I had two brothers who had already moved west

Just waiting to join them I couldn’t rest

Then Dad jumped up and shook my hand

We didn’t stop talking ’til we laid out a plan

The idea wasn’t new, I could tell

My folks started naming things to sell

We decided to have an auction sale that fall

And if things went right we’d sell it all

We all worked hard and everything went well

We had horses, cattle and pigs to sell

As to our farming we made a little change

We planted more potatoes and more grains

We didn’t put up much hay but had ten acres of corn

And it did very well when the weather got warm

I made fifty cord of pulp wood in my spare time

At $4 a cord Dad said I did fine

And 12 cord of fire wood ready to sell

Again Dad said I did very well

Most of the summer I was having fun

Just helping Dad from sun to sun

With the sale in October and so much to do

Dad hired a man and sometimes two

We paid them each 75 cents a day

At that time that was good pay

About the first of September I took on the job

Of fattening the livestock including the hogs

I kept corn in front of them twenty-four hours a day

And the horses got extra grain and lots of good hay

 The machinery was old but I made it look good

By cleaning the iron and painting the wood

I painted two wagons and both bobsleds too

Then painted the hay rack, a boat and a canoe

There were hay rakes and plows, cultivators and a mower

And many other pieces of machinery, a dozen or more

About the middle of September the thrashing crew came

And it took them two days to thrash out the grain

The corn was picked & filled two cribs

With a lot left over to feed the pigs

Our horses had names, every one

Dick and Dan each weighed over a ton

Maud weighed eleven hundred, she was a bay

While Bess weighed twelve hundred, she was gray

And then there was King, a handsome black stud

He wasn’t pedigreed but sure had good blood

Then there was May, Babe, Pet and Doll

The offspring of Maud and Bess as I recall

King was their Daddy, he sure was proud

And he’d stand out in any crowd

The last two weeks before the sale

Till midnight I combed mane and brushed tail

The machinery was lined up in two long rows

With dozens of axes, mauls, shovels and hose

There was fishing gear and guns and items galore

Piles of things that I haven’t mentioned before

My sis, Vi, was five years older then me

She and Mother kept busy as a bee

My other sister, Flora, didn’t want to go West

At 18 she was ready to feather her nest

The younger kids were busy, too

With the sale coming up there was plenty to do

Our neighbors gave a party to wish us well

Some of them thought we were heading for Hell

On October 7th, I was up all night

Had the chores done before first light

There was a little frost early in the morn

But the sun came up and it soon got warm

The auctioneer showed up about daylight

He made sure everything was lined up right

So on October 8th about 9 o’clock

The auctioneer started his auction talk “The first thing I will sell will be this boat”

Then he ask Dad if it would float

Dad said he didn’t know but he thought it should

As far as he knew it had pretty sound wood

That seemed to cheer the crowd up

I figured it would sell for about a buck

It sold for twelve, the buyer said it was a good buy

While I was thinking it went rather high

Dad held up a set of hames and a horse collar

And again I was thinking maybe a dollar

He said, “I want Five, I already have Four”

And he finally sold it for two dollars more

I knew right then that we’d do good

Even got a dollar a cord for all the wood

But when he got to our guns I felt a little blue

Thinking of the pheasants I’d shot, ducks and geese, too

But selling the shot gun I didn’t really mind

It was old and about at the end of it’s line

When he sold the 22 rifle I thought I’d cry

Thinking of the squirrels I’d shot through the eye

Dad had taught me to shoot rabbits on the run

The way he taught me I rarely missed one

We got ten dollars more for that 22 than any of the rest

And I knew I could buy another when I got out west.

(Story concludes on Sunday.)