and i must've shut my ears, as I remember no conversations.

[isittoolate]

Adding my 2 cents re my life---

I have been reading  here and thinking about being one generation older and that there were no verbal fights with the parents. We 5 kids just did what we were told without question.

At age 8 was when I began my stint of doing the farm chores. My 2 older sisters were already into chores, with another sister to follow when she became 8.

We arose at 5:00 and 2 girls each milked 6 cows, cleaned the cow stable and the pig pens, the bull pen (with the bull in it) and the horse stables. After the milking was finished we poured one pail for the house, then ran the remainder thought the separator to have skim milk and cream. The cream was for mom to sell and trade for butter. The skim milk was for the pigs to wet down the layer of ‘chop’ we put in their troughs.

That was pretty well the last job and it quieted them down, but their squealing began the second they heard someone come into the barn and continued til fed. Nothing but noise.

Meanwhile one of the girls is upstairs in the hay and straw mows and throwing fresh straw through a chute to bed down all the cows, pigs, bull and horses. The hay was for them for feed and went into their mangers, sometimes with a tad of chop and a drip of molasses.

Now we could go back to the house, clean up, have breakfast and get ready for school
We always came straight home after school because all of that was repeated, day in and day out until we were 16 or in Grade 13, whichever came first. The Rule and we knew it.

When baby pigs were born we had to help Dad when their little black teeth had to be removed and feed them iron.

We hitched the horses to a stone boat and walked the fields and picked up stones that would get turned up from ploughing. After crops were planted (dad) and growing we had to walk the fields (100acre farm) and pull every wild carrot (queen ann’s lace-a weed) from the crops, as well as any mustard plants that were growing. Scotch thistles were the worst and they grew so large so fast and were tough for getting the whole root. We had to get the roots.

When the hay was ready dad prepared the field cutting and raking, then with a buckrake he would bring a load to the barn. 3 of us had to have all the ropes ready for him to lay it on, then he would go for another load. In that time we had to hitch up all the ropes and guide the horse away from the barn and that pulled the load up to the top of the barn, where there was a ’car’ that ran on tracks. We could guide it either way for a mow on each side pull the trip rope and bring the car back, pull down the ropes and set them as we would see dad coming back with the next load. If the load wasn’t stable and it fell before getting into the mow, there was no time to do anything but fork the whole load over to the corner and lay the ropes for the next and in bits and pieces add from the fallen load until all of it was in the mow., and Dad didn’t care to wait while we worked on a load. We found that out fast enough. The haying was generally over summertime and no work was done on Sunday. A lovely Sunday for working, then Monday would rain and dad would curse and swear because the hay was wet and now we’d have about 4 days, as he kept turning it over to dry. Wet hay can cause spontaneous combustion and burn down then  barn. I was totally frightened of that all the time.

Then the wheat and oats were ready to be harvested and after dad had cut and stooked the grain we 3 went out with the horses and wagon, one driving and two building a load as dad threw up one sheaf after another. A full load was brought to the barn and run through the threshing machine to separate the grain from the straw. The straw piped to the mow and the grain into the granary bins.

These were all dirty jobs and I don’t remember any of us complaining. I don’t remember any arguments with mom or dad about all this work. We were just raised to do what we were told and did it. I don't remember any conversations at all but if anything was said it was dad’s cursing.

“What in hell did I ever do to deserve 5 lazy little kids like I got?”

Then came the housework. On Saturdays was dusting and vacuuming the whole 4 bedroom farm house, wax and polish all the hardwood floors  (the kitchen floor was washed every day),  strip all the beds and then do the laundry and hang it out on the line, summer AND winter.

Whatever season one plants a garden, we did it. Everything under the sun, gather the harvest and mom made preserves of everything she could so we had food for winter.

Of course we were expected to excel in school and by cracky, we did!

I remember only TWO TIMES that someone talked back about the work, and it was only once per each of 2 of my sisters.

I grew up being ordered around, and without a voice, and not even one with my siblings..
Even now I cannot without any conversations with my parents, report that one or both were N’s or just dirt poor farm folk with free child labour.

I was 16 in Grade 13 and that younger sister and my brother now were the two to do the chores. I turned 17, graduated, worked that summer at a resort then left for the big city for full time work and independence and I was ill-prepared for any of it.

This just is my story of another generation, with just 2 parents and 5 kids alone on a farm, no neighbors to hear the screaming of the beatings, no friends as we had the chores to do and out of 5 kids, I was the one who was so super-sensitive that I never understood a damned thing that was going on and crawled inside myself to survive.

[changing]

Hi My Dearest Izzy-

Your post gives me some insight into my father's treatment of me when I was little. He grew up on a farm and the boys especially had a lot of hard work (the girls were more petted and kept from any dangerous or brutal work - the brothers doted on their little sisters just as the parents did, and the girls would never be allowed around dangerous livestock and such- they also sent money home for nice things for their sisters, and the girls became extremely educated as well)

MY father did not spare the work or the punishment, from the time that I was 3 or 4(when my mother left) If he thought that I didn't do a chore right I was hauled right out of bed and soundly and painfully beaten. I didn't mind the chores, and liked to help actually, but I never knew if I did things correctly, especially when I was extremely young, and always afraid that I would be hurt even if I did what I thought was the right thing. I think this contributed to my pathology with my husband the Bagworm. One big difference between them- my father worked 2 jobs and would fall asleep at the table. He eventually grew wealthy.Bagworm is lazy,and has made great money and squandered it.

I learned to read quite early, and there would be a list of  my chores on the table in our empty house after I got home from school. Sweeping, dishes, dinner, cleaning, taking care of the pets, washing clothes. I even shined my father's shoes. I was to do all the things listed . When  I would hear the clumping of my father's boots coming up the steps at night, I would become wary , and hope that he would go to bed and not get me up because of a failure of some sort in my completion of the chores.

I never asked for things or got much either (food to cook, a house , bed and utilities, one dress and pair of shoes, maybe a coat,each year until I got a job myself at 14), and was expected to get straight A's, with no help or encouragement, any less was anathema- no one came to parent's night or checked my homework. We had no TV so I loved to do homework, and read the encyclopedia and Great Books collections that we had. I always did music, singing and playing instruments so I had to practice. My brother was a bona fide genius person, so that brought many interesting things into my life as well (telescopes , microscopes etc- my father always provided more for my brother- I think that he was jealous of  the things that were handed to his sisters versus the hard time he had making it in life, and evened the score in our home by giving to my brother  and having me shift for myself, and he drove my brother places and gave him things that cost good money) and of course, I had the two people who raised me, our doggies. I loved coming home and being with them- they read with me, sat as I did my homework, and slept with me at night- I never felt lonely with them, and was well protected and loved,even though there was never a parent for more than 5 or 6 hours a day usually for years at my home (my father slept during that time0, and often my brother was gone as well.

Perhaps my father felt that I had to learn early how to survive and to contribute. He did apologize once to me, and it was heartfelt and not at all N like, and said that very few had the responsibilities that I did, and did them so well alone with so few resources. My brother left at 16 for the Ivy League and I left young as well (we both skipped grades), though my father and his fiance (soon to be the stepmonster) would not sign for my scholarship and I was underage and socialized to please and obey, (even though I always had a strong streak of independent thinking). I had been in foster care and I think my early years made it easier to survive what happened there- though I was separated from my doggies and never really recovered fully from that.

I always had friends and fun things to do and church so I always had things to look forward to. But as far as family- we became mere satellites, destined to become scattered and alone in the freezing universe, and had to learn to make our own light or perish.

Love,

Changing

[lighter]

I'm so sorry.... that sounds so awful Izz and Changing.

My childhood wasn't anything like that.... and the part about there being no one around to hear the beatings... Izz....

::shudder::  I'm sorry your mother didn't have the good sense to protect you either.....

What in the heck did he beat you guys for if you never talked back?  Just makes no sense at all you were so compliant, helpful and what did he do, for labor, before he had children?

Just nuts, people have to be nuts to treat their children that way.... they don't know any better..... they.....

just nuts. 

[isittoolate]

Hiya changing,

The similarities are there when one talks of farms and chores and beatings if things aren't done right, of very few clothes and lives not at all as children have today

Imagine the lives that our grandparents provided for our parents. As we know Narcissism didn't just begin in 1980, it was just added to the List in 1980.

So the children of today can look back at other generations and see that it is a dysfunction handed down as easily as just living with somebody.

I know my ex S-I-Law is an N and, just from living with him, my dear grandson is showing the N-traits.

Sounds as though your foster parents were good people.

I often wondered if there were people in the Community who knew what was happening--that 5 kids needed help!

Ah. Well It's over and done and there's not a darn thing that can be changed.

Aha, lighter you sneaked in. Dad's anger made him beat anything in sight--he blinded a cow once, beating it. Yes, it makes no sense at all but as I said if he was angry----- look out. One time he took the shotgun down from the rack in the bathroom and went outsidde and just emptied it into the ground--- you've heard of fathers killing the whole family eh? I wonder how close we were.

Mom was his labourer before. She had scoliosis and spina bifida and landed in a wheelchair at age 47. The farm work was very hard on her health. She never ran, danced, or rode a bicycle.  Plus I know there was a time that dad hired a boy/man for a little bit. Then his kids were growing......................

so I am just going back a generation for you youngsters to read about it. ;0)
Love Izzy

[changing]

Hi Lighter (Highlighter? )

Actually I had many happy times, though things were Spartan- I think Izzy was tortured, though, and it is amazing how sweet and strong she is. She is truly one of a kind!

Love,

Changing

[finding peace]

You all are one of a kind and very special - my life has been enriched knowing each of you, and my children's lives will be enriched as well.  Thank you for being here.

[wiltay]

My father grew up on a small patch of dirt in Grants Pass, Oregon.  I saw the 'farm' once, a bleak little shack that was the most rudimentary shelter, not much more than a chicken coop,  surrounded by sterile scrabble that you probably couldn't grow a decent weed on.  From all accounts my fathers father was a raging, stressed-out monster who screamed at his three kids when ever they strayed an inch off his designated path.  I never knew either of my grandparents from this side of the family, they were dead in the ground in their fifties, a long time before I was born.
     My father had only his own as a role model.  Nothing I ever did was half-good.  I was a child, the next thing to boot-camp dirt.  The only reason for my existence was to be obedient to his wishes, because he was the boss.  That 's the way his world was laid out for him, the pattern he was supposed to follow.
     
   

[lighter]

Hi Lighter (Highlighter? )

Actually I had many happy times, though things were Spartan- I think Izzy was tortured, though, and it is amazing how sweet and strong she is. She is truly one of a kind!

Love,

Changing

Changing..... if you were hauled out of bed and soundly and painfully beaten for not doing a chore right..... you had some hard hard times too.  I'm glad to hear you had some happy times but..... losing your doggies and living in fear when you heard your father's boots..... not having your family.... I'm so sorry that happened to you. 

If you suffered, it does sound like Izz was tortured.

Izzy.... I assume your father raged over everything and nothing..... blinding a cow with a beating for heaven's sake.  Dangerous and I'm so glad you guys weren't at the end of his shot gun..... glad that he didn't maim or blind any of you (((Izzy and Changing)))

[reallyME]

wow...reading these stories reminds me of THE CHILD CALLED IT.  It seems to be that in the era of time you both grew up in, abuse was hush-hush, something 'everyone did', and not seen as wrong and criminal.  My husband grew up in that same era in a way.  He, too, grew up in the farm life, but I grew up in the city.

In my home, we only knew that we were eating "meat" but i was not taught that it came from the death of an animal and that i was eating an animal's flesh. 

My husband grew up seeing puppies and kittens beheaded, animals tortured while his father laughed at their suffering and saw it as "sport," and basically, as a result, this lack of concern, has sometimes extended to his treatment of our pets and children and myself as well.

i grew up with "going to the cottage" being a fun thing my family did, because it was a "taste" of the country.  I went to a beach, rode in grandpa's boat, learned to wear a lifejacket because it was smart and safe.

My husband grew up living IN a cottage.  His mother was able to keep the place clean because there were very little material objects to mess it up.  He learned that only SISSIES are paranoid about danger.  He learned to belittle people who wanted to stay safe and take measures of caution.  he learned to say "oh come ON...are you REALLY that scared of a little bee?" (to someone who is allergic and could DIE from a sting).  He learned to watch tv, see someone who needs psychological meds for an illness, and say "oh puuuuuuhlease.  it's ALL IN THEIR HEAD!  You can believe ANYTHING you want to believe.  That's just insane that someone needs all these PILLS.  All they need to do is get a positive attitude."  Sometimes he learned to say "oh my father hit us kids and it did me GOOD!"

I grew up learning to take care of myself and others.

My husband grew up learning that people who need to be taken care of are to be considered "WEAK WIMPS"  They need to just get over it and deal with it.

I grew up learning to look nice, be mannerly, respect elders.

My husband grew up like a farmer, where it was more important to get chores done than to care about going to a dentist to save your teeth, going to a doctor to save your health (except when illness meant that your dad wouldnt' have his "workhorse" slaves to do the jobs around the house).  He grew up lying to his mother and telling me, "oh, she'll figure out that i'm not gonna show up, when i don't."  He, to this day, barely ever talks to his mother or his brothers.  He sees them as unworthy of having a relationship with.  No wonder, when it was not cultivated way back when, because of an abusive father and a robotic mother.

I grew up learning how to "feel" what others felt.  My mother taught me that if I hurt someone, I need to say I'm sorry.

My husband grew up believing that if you hurt someone, it's not really hurt...it just means they misunderstood you or that you didn't really mean it so it wasn't wrong.  saying "i'm sorry" was not something a strong man or boy was expected to do...it showed weakness and made him vulnerable in a way that was not ok.

i grew up hearing a lot of swearing in my home.  My parents were Italian/Irish/Catholic.  I learned to live one way at church and to tear people down when I got home.  I grew up with a criitical spirit that i still struggle to keep in check even as an adult.

My husband grew up being verbally assaulted and abused, and learning that "it's just the way things are."  He learned that the way to MAKE someone mind you, is to hurt their feelings or their bodies.  I still remember hearing his mother and sister say "you gotta MAKE your daughter mind you!"  I was aghast at the idea of forcing another human being into subjection, and I STILL will not exert that sort of force on my children.  I do want respect, but I do not believe in FORCING people to do what i want them to do.  I'm not Hitler.

That's just some of the background that i wanted to share, so that you could hear a bit about the differences in my upbringing vs my husband's.  There is so much more I could say, but i think I'll leave room for comments and other posts now.

One more thing though...I NEVER shut my ears.  My parents thought I wasn't listening, but I was quietly taking it allllllllllllllllllllllllllll in and learning to use it for my advantage.

[lighter]

Leah.... I was responding to a post of yours here.... and it dissapeared?

Just wanted you to know that I heard you and I'm so sorry that happened to you.  Your mother, father and brother are broken people who can't do any better ... they failed you miserably.

You deserved better ((((Leah)))) 

[changing]

I don't see a connection betwen farm life and cruelty to pets- in fact, my father grew up on a farm, and he treated all of our animals extremely well, and they all adored him. On the farm when he as a child, they had horses, mules, cows, dogs, cats and such, and the animals were always well cared for. In fact, they were seen as quite valuable because they had important jobs.
Of course, a cruel person has more opportunity to be cruel to animals in a farm setting, but a decent person would not be gratuitously cruel on a farm or in the city.

Love,

Changing

[Leah]

Leah.... I was responding to a post of yours here.... and it dissapeared?

Just wanted you to know that I heard you and I'm so sorry that happened to you.  Your mother, father and brother are broken people who can't do any better ... they failed you miserably.

You deserved better ((((Leah)))) 

They weren't 'broken' people, they were cruel people, they laughed and thought it funny, they deny and say that it was not all that bad.

My damaged ear drum, my broken nose, my numerous hospital admissions, including concussion after being punched out of the sofa and across the room.

No-one in my life has ever listened to what happened.

It's okay, I know why.

Love, Leah

[Leah]

My mother used to lure any cat that came into the garden and end it's life.  She taught my brother to do the same.

Cruel or Evil ?

Sickening.

Leah

[reallyME]

Leah, CRUEL AND EVIL...both what they did to you and to the animals!!!

it should be a crime punishable by year in prison!!!  I'm all for the "oh they are sick mentally" stuff, but then LET'S TAKE AWAY THEIR CHILDREN MANDITORALLY AND FORCE THEM INTO PARENTING CLASSES, MENTAL HEALTH COUNSELInG, REHAB of some type...yes, I said MANDATORY and FORCE...be glad I am not the next president, cause I wouldn't pussy foot around with any of the N's, parents or otherwise.  crazy people need to have their brains readjusted before they are allowed to perpetrate their sickness onto innocent children's minds and bodies or innocent animals.

MY view.

~Laura

[changing]

Leah-

I am shocked and sickened at what you saw and experienced as a child. (((((Leah))))) What is so atounding is that you came through such horror and are the purest, sweetest and best creature- a true miracle. As for the cat killings and physical and mental torure that you received, I would say evil AND cruel.
You always respond with such courtesy and kindness and empathy, one would never know what you have suffered. Leah you have a heart of 24k gold, and it shines from within.

Love,

Changing