When I had gone for a quick walk down our drive and back it caught my breath. Three laps and I was ready to hit the warmth of our home. It is important for me to get fresh air, stretch my legs and pump my arms to get the blood going from top to bottom. It will make taking longer walks much easier when the weather permits and I haven’t totally hibernated.
In the winter of 1969-1970, we had weather much like this. Brutal cold and we had had a lot of snow. I remember it so clearly as Carrie was four and Kevin was not quite two. We were in the process of dwindling down the count of dairy cows. Our barns had young stock, chickens and lots if hogs.
Orlin came down with a really bad case of Shingles that winter. They went from totally covering his back around to the one side of his front. It was said that if they went completely around the body and met, it could be very serious. I do not know if that is fact or fiction but at the time Orlin was in a lot of radiating pain. Dr. Bretzke at the Hutch clinic prescribed an ointment that was much like clear nail polish to paint onto the sores and scabs. Hopefully sealing off the Shingles would help the pain. His best bet was resting in the quiet.
I took on the chores. My dad came over to help me with the milking, as my mom started the milking at their place. Barn cleaning, throwing down silage and the rest of the feeding for chickens and hogs was not something foreign to me. Our manure carrier had a knack of tripping itself and . . . sometimes not outside as it and me were heading to the manure stack in the cow yard. I was a farm gal and had been doing the chores routine right along with Orlin.
The two wee ones were on their best behavior as they had a fair amount of time on their own as Orlin rested in the upstairs bedroom. The basement was off limits to them. The stairwell to the second floor was off limits. Kevin was guest to many of Carrie’s coffee parties as long as the Cheerios kept coming. Snoopy, the dog, had a spot in the back entry and I know he was given special access while I would be outside. What could it hurt and how could he resist with the temptation of a cookie that was dangled from the kitchen by the kids. I did come in often to check on them. There was a spell of several hours over the noon hour that Orlin came down for soup and read a few stories as I got laundry and some house chores done. No one went hungry. Four in the afternoon was time to get suited up for the evening chores to begin so I would be ready for milking time. Sometimes neighbor Ted Skolberg would come and help with milking so dad didn’t have to do double duty all the time. My mom had really helped out by letting dad come over.
It all turned out quite well . . . everyone worked together. Toward the end of the Shingles Orlin was on the first floor with the kids most of the day. No one bled out that a band-aid couldn’t cure. No one had any severe bangs and bruises. It took two weeks and Orlin was back to feeling well enough to help me with the milking and just in time as the sows began farrowing.
I had Shingles several years ago and I am telling you, that the rest that was needed for Orlin to get back to feeling somewhat normal could have and should have been longer but for the call of livestock chores.
It is amazing what can be tripped in memories by just having the cold air almost suck the breath right out of you. I don’t know who I would be if I didn’t have sweet memories to remind me of what a great life I have had and still do have.
We do go through events that I believe are meant to be. It may seem a struggle at the time, but we need to face struggles for what may be coming. One of my smart family members may have said this but it is ingrained in my brain . . . “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
