Try again

As I was reading last month’s article in the Dairy Star, I was confused. The title was “Cleaning Up,” but the article was not what I had written earlier in the week. I accidentally submitted an article by the same title written 14 years earlier when we hosted a National Holstein Convention tour. Oops.

Michael was helping me adjust to a new computer and program when my writing file became jumbled and “lost.” Nothing looked the same as before, but I saw the titled article and submitted it without checking what was actually written. Let’s try it again.

Sometimes you just need a fresh set of eyes to see how things really appear. We become blind to piles of junk pushed up against the shed and “out of the way.” We never seem to notice the weeds missed by the lawnmower edging trees and sheds. It is a working farm and not everything is supposed to be in perfect shape and in the right spot — or is it? Can we do better? How?

My answer to the last question: throw a party. A party is the perfect incentive to clean out the garage and trim things up around the yard. I also use it as a reason to really clean the house. A party is my reward for getting a big job done. I know I also create more jobs by having a party, but let’s focus on the fun we’ll have when everything is in its place and we can celebrate.

When we remodeled the kitchen 15 years ago, I purposefully moved the old cupboards out to the new garage. I created a “kitchen” area with a salvaged countertop where we could plug in roasting pans and crockpots and line up plates and platters of food to host parties and family get-togethers. This new area also gave me a reason to keep the garage clean. It was our “party central” for a few years as the kids graduated from high school. Once we were out of that phase, it became a catch-all area for things to put away later. As I headed out for chores one morning, I took a good close look around the garage. It was bulging with too much stuff. I had become blind to what was really in front of me. We definitely needed to have a party again.

During our hiatus from milking a few years ago, in the heart of Covid, I refurbished a family dining room table and chairs from my great-great aunt, Annie. Once I was done, I moved the table to the garage, waiting for Mark to finish some repair work on the chairs. I figured if he saw the table every day as he went out to milk cows, he would remember to finish fixing the seats so we could move the whole set into the house. I covered the table with an old blanket to protect the beautifully restored cherry wood.

Once the table was covered, the waiting project became invisible. Out of sight, out of mind. The table started to be a catch-all for busted parts, used tools and various other things no one wanted to put away at the moment. The table was the only available space to park everyone’s stuff since the countertops were completely filled.

As the party date approached, Mark had to start clearing off the table of tools and other things — junk in my mind, stuff in his — he had collected in the garage. Now where was he going to put all these treasures he would most certainly use again? He sorted. He reorganized. He even pitched a few things. He stashed away his collection in empty cupboards and new spots out of sight. I think some stuff even made it to the machine shed. We were making room to host a party.

While we were cleaning, Austin’s girlfriend, Joelle, decided she would like to use the old detached garage as the storefront for her new business, Fields of Plenty. She had expanded my garden to include her cut flower inventory. She planted hundreds of zinnias, gladiolas, baby’s breath, sunflowers and so many other types of flowers. I must say, my garden has never looked so clean and weed-free — but the garage was a different story.

This original farm garage had never been cleaned out in over 80 years. It was the original catch-all for so many things we didn’t have time to use. We found “lost” treasures between studs and among rafters. We found things everyone thought they couldn’t live without or something they thought they could use again. When the fourth-generation family members cleaned out the shed, no one remembered what these “special” items were, let alone how to use them. The kids made sure these treasures weren’t resettled to another storage spot as they expanded the junk pile.

Besides growing beautiful flowers, Joelle is a weed-whacking queen. She has trimmed around every building, fence line and tree. I never realized how much of a difference trimming made in the appearance of the yard. A fresh set of eyes and youthful energy have helped to whip our farm into shape to host parties and you-cut flower customers.

Now, where did the kids stash my broom and birdseed?

P.S. The reason for the party was to say thank you to family, friends and neighbors who held my family in their hands and hearts as I lay in the hospital in a coma 20 years earlier.  On May 1, 2004 I was hauled by ambulance to the hospital where I was placed in a coma as my body fought off a bacterial meningitis infection. The prognosis was bleak, possible brain damage or death, but God had other plans. Five days later, I walked out of the intensive care unit and eventually back into my normal life on a farm raising our young family.

As the anniversary of my recovery rolled around this year, I realized we had never really thanked everyone for all their help, food and prayers. That’s when I decided it was time to clean out the garage and have a “Party of Thanks,” a party to give thanks for all our blessings throughout these years.

As their four children pursue dairy careers off the family farm, Natalie and Mark Schmitt started an adventure of milking registered Holsteins just because they like good cows on their farm north of Rice, Minnesota.