Making Summer Magic

I don't know how many people can say this... but I am so thankful to say that I had an amazing childhood - especially in the summer time.  To her credit, my mother literally made summer magic.  I don't ever remember being bored.

Vintage summer under the sun circa 1989.

Now that I'm the mom, I struggle to keep the tradition alive and have run into a couple of obstacles.  First, I want to do simple things that don't cost a ton of money and don't leave us feeling overwhelmed and over-scheduled.  Second, we live in a rural area, so the "places to go and things to do" list is a short one.

With the inclination of today's children to veg out in front of the TV and play video games, I know each summer that it is going to take more than a little effort to make summer magic.

My attempt at a modern recipe for my mom's vintage summer magic looks a little like this...

We make stuff and get messy... we might sidewalk chalk the entire driveway or paint a picture... I keep an array of dollar store art supplies on hand at all times.

We take twilight walks down the dirt road and enjoy the sun set while getting out that last little bit of pent up energy.  The kids can run or walk or throw dirt clods at each other... I let them get dirty!


One of the best investments I ever made was a medium sized above ground pool for around $250.  It is on its second summer.  I let them swim a couple of times a day.  It keeps them cool and we all get some sun!

Going to the park and splashing in creeks, trying to catch tadpoles has made a great pass time.  I will admit that I'm not quite as "into it" as the boys, but they never want to leave, so I know it's worth it.

We played baseball the first part of the summer and it was the perfect amount of time - not so much that it consumed our whole summer, but enough to keep the boys busy.  Sports can be a huge summer burden if your family takes on too much!

I'm not opposed to pulling old movies out of the vault.  After spending an ample amount of energy playing outside, everyone enjoys sitting quietly in the cool of the living room watching movies.  I've introduced them to some of our all time favorites this summer: The Gnome Mobile, The Parent Trap, the old version of C.S. Lewis' The Loin, The Witch and The Wardrobe, Gus, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken and of course Summer Magic.  If you've never heard of some of these, they're old - Google them. You won't be disappointed.  You can also find a comprehensive list of Disney movies since the dawn of time here.



The public library is a great source of free activities throughout the summer.  For our age group, they offer a movie day and an arts and crafts hour, not to mention a guest appearance from Mad Science!  The reading incentive program has helped keep them reading over the summer.  Every time they read 10 books, they can enter for a chance to win a Kindle Fire.

The specific ingredients seem to change year after year, but I have come to the conclusion that the recipe for summer magic lies in making the effort to spend time with your family away from the television - finding the fun little activities that pop up in our area in the summer, while stirring in the occasional opportunity to go on a family vacation or to the big amusement park or water park.

Even though it's been a few years, here is a snippet of what I personally remember about my own childhood summers: swimming, girl scout camp, the zoo, frozen grapes, snow cones, First Baptist Church Vacation Bible School, Disney movies, family get-togethers, fireworks, the old Sulphur Springs Public Library, building tree houses, jumping on the trampoline with the sprinkler underneath, trips to Red River, parades, hours of fun at the park, Canton Trade Days and blanket tents.... to name a few.  Thanks, Mom!

My hope is that when my own children look back, they will remember summer time as pure magic.  What will your kids remember? 

The Grass Is Always Greener...

"You've got a cow out by the highway," says the gentleman with a slow drawl who stopped by the house around dusk last night. 

Whispering Winds

Surrounded by the skeletons of thousands of dormant mounds of sage brush, I crouch on top of a ridge and look down across the rolling hills, punctuated occasionally with the brownish-green foliage of thirsty Eastern Red Cedars.

As the late afternoon sun descends into dusk, the prairie is mute except for the sound of the wind.  It whistles and whirrs, emulating the sound of numerous voices, all involved in different conversations.  It is a dull roar of indistinguishable words - except for one.

My heart races and I am filled with a strange feeling of satisfaction as I realize the meaning of this one word.

My sister is just across the way.  I can see her on the top of another ridge.  She is looking at something in the sand - most likely an old snake hole - she is always watching for those - even in the winter.

We don't feel the need to talk to each other as we trudge along.  Every now and then we stop to point out something, like an old bottle or a snake hole, but there is no need for idle conversation out here.

I can see her face, she is not talking.  It is the prairie I hear - and today, it is calling my name.

This prairie wind calls out to me, reassuring me that this is exactly where I am meant to be - where I belong.  This soothing whisper in the wind is like the bond between friends.  It envelopes me in warmth on this cold winter day and confirms what I already knew in my heart.

This land knows me by name.  It knows that I have a plan for it and that I will not forsake it to the wrath of the summer heat or the blustery winter winds.  It knows that I have seeds in wait to plant in its dry valleys and that instead of seeing a dusty and windblown wasteland, I see a dormant oasis in need of a little care and cultivation, ready to burst forth with a rich bounty.

It knows my name because my name is written here.  I write it with my footprints in the red dirt hills and the sandy valley bottoms and with every swath of the plow and every seed that is planted.  The mark I make on this land pales in comparison to the mark this land has made on me.

It has supported generations of Phillips' who depended on it.  Though the weather and the markets may have let them down, this land never did.  It stood by steadfastly and now I hope to repay the favor.

Welcome to the farm.

Seedtime and Harvest

Looking at this old photo got me to thinking... Something that folks on a farm think about often is the concept of seedtime and harvest.
You put seeds in the ground, you water them, you keep the weeds and pests away and when the time is right, you reap a bountiful harvest from your patience and hard work.

Our Great Grandparents on the left, our Grandparents on the right, the little girl in the chair is Aunt Virginia and the baby is our dad.  Harvesting wheat about 70 years ago - and yes, the concept of seedtime and harvest worked the same then as it does now - both in the field and in life.

The funny thing about seedtime and harvest is that it applies to every aspect of our lives - not just crops.

The Bible says that the principle of seedtime and harvest will never cease, the same way that the concepts of seasons and day and night will never cease.

"As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease." Genesis 8:22 (NIV)

Makes me stop and wonder - are we planting seeds of encouragement in those around us?  Are we going to reap a harvest of the sweet fruits of our labor?  Or are we sowing seeds of bitterness and condemnation and will painfully reap a harvest of stickers and sand burrs?

Daily we sew seeds with our words.  Think about your words - are you sarcastic?  Are you short or gruff?  Or are you kind and helpful and pleasant?

I don't know about you, but as someone who doesn't like to wear shoes, I don't like stickers - or sand burrs.  As we say around here, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all."  (But c'mon - say or do something nice once in a while and reap a harvest of good things in your life!)

Welcome to the farm!

This freshly harvested wheat field is nestled Northwest Oklahoma.

Don't Fence Me In

Give me land, lots of land and the starry skies above
Don't fence me in...

It goes on for ever....

Thanks, Bing Crosby.  I couldn't have said it better.  I find myself singing this in my head every time I drive down a busy street or step out in the back yard of my current abode in suburbia and see the rows of fences stretching as far as my eye can see and fading into the horizon.  I sing this a lot.  Ask my kids.  Poor kids.






Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don't fence me in...

Ironically, it's even hard to take a photo out in the middle of nowhere without capturing the fence row.

Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don't fence me in

Have you ever tried this?  Man, you are missing out.  Sitting outside alone (or with a friend) and listening the the wind and the crickets humming together in unison, creating the perfect lullaby... you should try it.  It's good in the winter, too, because you can catch a whiff of wood burning fireplaces in the distance, tainted slightly by the sharp smell of cold air.  

Just turn me loose, let me straddle my old saddle
Underneath the western skies
On my Cayuse, let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountains rise


As children, we used to sleep outside under the stars on a large trampoline on the farm.  When was the last time you just sat outside and stared at the stars?  If you can't remember, it's been too long.  There is nothing like it.  They don't have to be western skies - or even night skies... just check it out.  You won't be sorry.

I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences
And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
And I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in
No
Poppa, don't you fence me in

Can you tell that I'm homesick?  I need some wide open spaces - and no I will not be quoting the Dixie Chicks next.  Take some time to appreciate the great outdoors!  And for goodness sake, don't fence yourself in!

The Secret Magical Playground In The Woods

Spending your childhood in the country is comparable to the old joke about buying a small child an expensive gift, when all they want to do is play with the box.  Instead of playing video games or going to the park, we entertained ourselves with much simpler diversions.

I can remember hiking through the pasture with my younger sister and my niece and three nephews (we are all about the same age, by the way, but that's another story).  Each excursion was a greater adventure than the last.  We discovered a "secret bone yard" where we knew some tragic massacre must've taken place.  My dad later told me it was where they hauled the carcass when a calf died.  I like the earlier rendition better, though.

There was also a "land of hidden treasure" where beautiful old glass bottles and remnants of all kinds of interesting things were stowed.  I laughed when I found out that it was actually a dump of sorts where someone hauled a few loads of unwanted junk in the 1950's.  Some of that junk really was treasure, though and I still have it today.  I have always been a connoisseur of junk.  Still am...  I LOVE OLD JUNK! (also another story...)

All of these things came flooding back to me when my children came in one evening after playing around the farm to tell me that Grandpa Bob had showed them a "secret magical playground in the woods".  I shot my dad a skeptical look and he smiled mischievously and nodded.  (He also told them that the same woods were haunted by witches.)

I shook my head and followed as the boys ushered me out to the woods.  When we got there, I realized that what was so magical and enchanting to them was an old swing set that my older siblings had played on over 30 years ago.  Our dad had used the tractor to haul it from the backyard out into the woods where no one would get hurt on it.  Over the years, the swing set has become wedged between two Honey Locust Trees and the base has sunk in the ground a foot or so, making it perfectly safe and secure - and mysterious!

I laughed as I told my dad I didn't need to worry about buying them a new swing set for Christmas.  They were more excited about junk!  Poor boys, they got it from their mamma.

Next time you feel guilty about not buying your children everything their hearts desire, step back and give a new perspective to something old.  After all, when was the last time you heard a child refer to a store-bought swing set as secret or magical?

Welcome to the farm.

Grandpa Bob found a newer swing in the garage - the old one was shot!

Somehow, they were actually using this two-person teeter totter swing without seats!

There's even a cat walk.

The slide, I'm afraid, is un-salvagable.  The boys have told me of their plans to build a new one, though.