Reflections on Farmer Boy
I recently re-read Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and it was a delight to return to the stories of farming and family life in 1866. I read this book when I was little, but it hits a little differently now that we live on a farm of sorts and have a 10-year-old boy of our own to imagine through the story.
The Laura Ingalls Wilder biography, Prairie Fires by Caroline Fraser, suggests that this book was Laura's homage to Almanzo's childhood, which she idealized in many ways. The recurring themes of good food, bounty, a thriving farm, and self-sufficiency contrast sharply with Laura's childhood full of struggle, scraping by, and being forced to move several times. It was enlightening to experience Farmer Boy through this lens, particularly noting the exhaustive and grandiose mealtime descriptions. For example, just try not to drool while reading of breakfast in the Wilder house:
“There was oatmeal with plenty of thick cream and maple sugar. There were fried potatoes, and the golden buckwheat pancakes, as many as Almanzo wanted to eat, with sausages and gravy or with butter and maple syrup. There were preserves and jams and jellies and doughnuts. But best of all Almanzo liked the spicy apple pie, with its thick, rich juice and its crumbly crust. He ate two big wedges of the pie.”
Throughout the book, the Wilder farm is referred to as a "good farm," and we get a window into the seasonal rhythms of agrarian work. The farm certainly seemed to be thriving, with a diverse collection of crops and livestock keeping the family busy. The family worked to produce what they needed: wool for cloth, straw for hats and for animal feed, livestock for food and for leather, a stand of timber for logs and for maple syrup... just to name what comes to mind. It is clear that Laura admired the independence that a "good farm" enabled.
There is no question that the Wilder family worked hard to keep their farm maintained and productive. Almanzo's father also sometimes drops little nuggets of wisdom, and one of them stuck out:
"Almanzo asked Father why he did not hire the machine that did threshing. Three men had brought it into the country last fall, and Father had gone to see it. It would thresh a man's whole grain crop in a few days.
'That's a lazy man's way to thresh,' Father said. 'Haste makes waste, but a lazy man'd rather get his work done fast than do it himself. That machine chews up the straw till it's not fit to feed stock, and it scatters grain around and wastes it.
'All it saves is time, son. And what good is time, with nothing to do? You want to sit and twiddle your thumbs, all these stormy winter days?'"
What a direct contrast with so much of our society's mindset today! Of course, we certainly do not have to be productive every minute of every day; even the Wilder family came together in the dark evenings to sit by the fire, read, and eat popcorn and apples. But, I feel that this quote is something we can learn from and do well to keep in mind in our labor-saving, time-saving, frantic rush of a society. If we speed a little bit on our commute, we can "save" five minutes of time. But, what good is time, with nothing to do?
Purposeful work is fulfilling; it satisfies a human yearning within each of us. To me, there is no better feeling than a job well done. (The feeling of contentment and sore muscles after a hard day's work is one of the things I missed the most when I was struggling through arthritis pain.) The trick is to remember the purpose and enjoy the work itself, even when the task seems menial. For example, I do the dishes so that my family can enjoy healthy, sustaining meals around the table. I clean off the counter so that the space is ready for the next craft, homework assignment, or baking adventure. I grade assignments so that students have direct, meaningful feedback on their work. I hold the hand of my sick child so that she feels comfort and encouragement while she is ill.
So, that's the challenge I carry forward from Farmer Boy: to not only work hard, but also to keep the purpose of the work in mind. What good is time, with nothing to do?
