Belly Acre Farm: I Will Miss You, Dad!

The other day I saw a mug that said:

“Dad, thanks for teaching me how to be a man . . . even though I’m your daughter.”

That pretty much sums up being raised by Dad.

When it came to us kids, Dad’s goal was, as he put it, “to raise FULLY FUNCTIONING INDIVIDUALS.” This meant:

We were raised to NOT BE AFRAID – of anything, but especially bugs. As small girls, Sherri and I held the crickets that would eventually be fed to the black widow in a mason jar kept on top of the fridge. A favorite family activity was watching a huge Cat Face spider catch and wrap up moths attracted to its web by our front porch light.
It meant . . . learning how to correctly throw a punch and a baseball.
No one was allowed to be a picky eater. When we were dating, Dad even told Eric, “You haven’t tried Leslie’s gravy,” and then made him take a bite.
As an Austin, we all became a good shot – be it BB gun, shotgun or rifle.
A fully functioning individual could not be delicate. At our house, delicate was a bad word. Unsavory things could be discussed at the dinner table, and we were not allowed to be grossed out. Dad pulled our teeth . . loose or otherwise if the orthodontist said they needed to come out and assured us that they didn’t have roots. Yeah, right. Dad was known to say, “I would have made a good dentist,” or “I would have made a good doctor,” depending on what needed attention.
We were often encouraged to, “Gird up your dad-burn loins!”
We were raised to WORK HARD and PLAY HARD. If feeling low, Dad’s remedy was to get out and DO something – usually work.
Ours was a home where we regularly heard and said, “I love you.”

I would like to share a few of Dad's lesser known talents:

Dad could wiggle his ears.
He made a good show of “blowing up” his bicep.
He was excellent at pulling funny faces.
But perhaps his greatest talent was throwing himself fully into the things he LOVED and teaching us to love them too.

Dad loved:

I’d like to end with my own re-make of the Sound of Music classic, “Favorite Things.” (Don’t worry, I won’t be singing.)

A Few of Dad’s Favorite Things

Neoprene waders and brand new goose decoys,

Hiking and hunting with Chip and his two boys,

Horse rides in the mountains when it’s newly spring –

These were a few of Dad’s favorite things.

Fresh homemade cookies and hot apple pie,

Camping with his kids in early July,

Double barrel shotguns and birds on the wing –

These were a few of Dad’s favorite things.

When the blues strike, when we miss him,

When we’re feeling sad –

We’ll simply enjoy some of his favorite things,

And then we won’t feel so bad.

We will miss you, Dad.

Belly Acre Farm