Have you ever had one of those moments? A moment where you are transported back in time due to your surroundings? I had one of those moments yesterday. My husband, the children, and I went for a walk on the farm. We walked deep into the woods. Our mission was to find pecans and persimmons. The weather was beautiful. Hank the cow dog joined us for this walk. It was in a few words picturesque. The children ran ahead of us. The sun began to set causing the soybeans to cast a golden glow. Off in the distance, I could see the children running along the edge of the field with Hank wagging his tail and bounding behind them. Deep into the tree row, we found trees full of persimmons ready for picking.

The setting was beautiful, perfect for going back in time. Our recent studies of the pilgrims enhanced my thoughts about by gone eras. Our founding fathers came to this strange land and unfamiliar terrain yet were able to carve out a living. I imagined what they might have felt as I walked the tree row. Missouri is a new terrain for me. There were many wild plants that I could not identify. Living off the land would require bravery as well as some knowledge of botany. Eating the wrong plant could lead to sickness or death. I wondered about the each plant’s potential for food or medicinal purposes as I followed the children. I had no Indians to help me identify plants. Though I have my parents who are familiar with native plants. In fact, they took the children on a walk through the woods a few weeks ago and showed them the pecan and persimmons trees. The children learned from their grandparents how to tell when the persimmons were ripe. They were eager to share their new knowledge with me.

The children located the persimmons trees. I gazed up and saw the tiny orange pumpkin like fruit hanging in trees at least ten feet above our heads. Before I could verbalize a plan about how to get the fruits, my daughter scaled the tree and began to shake the branch. Her dress did not hinder her. I am thankful for her agility in climbing trees. The orange fruits fell on the ground and we began our harvest. Hank joined in on the excitement sensing there was something valuable about the persimmons. He sniffed the fruit unable to understand our enthusiasm for the persimmons. However, he was happy to be a part of the action. Every now and then a fruit would fall and hit me in the head or back. A wave of giggles erupted every time I exclaimed, “Hey, stop throwing things at me.” We had a great time. I was so caught up in the joy of harvesting a fruit native to our new farm land, I couldn’t help but want to share this moment with my husband. He is a lot like me. He is a dreamer and a pioneer spirit. We both love creating something with raw materials. It was a joy to think about our commonality with pioneers of old. In fact, the thick tree rows, blocked any view of modern life as we know it. I was enjoying this track back in time when I called out to my husband. He was deep in the tree row examining the terrain for potential homesteading projects. He answered my call which jolted me back into the reality of the 21rst century, “Hang on. My cell phone is ringing”. My husband joined us and mustered up chivalry to gather persimmons from thorny thickets I could not reach.

We gathered a fair amount of persimmons and then began our journey back to the house. When I entered the house, I did what any rugged pioneer woman would do. I researched how to process persimmons on the internet. It didn’t take long to figure out how to collect the pulp. I converted this mushy fruits into a delicious pudding cake. I topped the cake with whipping cream from our raw milk. I have much to learn about living off the land. Much effort will need to be made to end our reliance upon modern technology. But, for now, we have made one small step toward living off the land.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid