When I was about thirteen I began work for my Dad in his workshop at the estuary by the sea. It was the school holidays. Dad built boats. The sea and all its surrounds were our breath and bread and butter.
Dad was teaching me to weld that summer. One day he got me to move a whole pile of iron blocks into a storage space. They were kind of like big ingots but not gold. When we got home that night he told Mum proudly that Celi had moved a quarter of a ton of iron that day. She was suitably impressed. A quarter of a ton, she said. Goodness. Good girl. Now, go and wash your face – you are filthy. I have always remembered that moment of open pride from my parents at a job well done. As they looked at each other and nodded. Funny how something so small can follow a person for their whole life. Like a little unpoppable life raft. Just that small smile of pride that shone between them. For me.
This is how easy it is to change a person’s life. How easy it is for us to learn that hard work matters. 
I think of this sometimes when I am moving the concrete bricks that hold the tarpaulin onto the chicken ark. There are eight of them and each one is a hefty lift. I can move these huge weights, by myself, just little by little.
Kim has written a wee review of her time here in the opportunities page. Anyone who is interested in the farm stay programme may want to pop in for a read. 
And I may be having a woofer come to stay next week. Though her accomodation will not be as grand as the Farm Stay people, I hope she will have a nice time and like to weed. Hopefully. Or my next Farm Stay friend will throw her hands up in horror at the state of the gardens.
I worked at double speed last night trying to get everything in order. All the animals stowed away. The storm warnings were severe. In the end it was not so bad. We have had rain almost every night for the last three weeks. But after this next storm we have a few days of sun so I hope we can get the hay in while Triple T is here to help.
I love the skies out here. Especially when the skies are fill of storms.
I hope you all have a lovely day.
Your friend on the farmy
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
40 responses to “The small smiles”
Oh the skies, the endless skies Celie! What magnificent beauty. There is simply nothing has wonderful has the prairie skies.
I had never heard of a woofer, so went to check that out. 🙂
That last cloud looks very, very ominous, so low to the ground. Good that all is well. The gardens are probably exploding! Packing up today to go to CO to visit my best buddy for a week. This is turning out to be a great summer. 🙂
Hope you and the TT are getting good things done.
So that’s what a woofer is !
Right time to go and get my hair done 🙂
isn’t that what we all live for…just those small smiles! what a lovely story C.
Do sometimes feel marooned in the middle of the continent, after growing up next to the ocean?
strangely the views are very similar, with that long flat horizon, at night i can almost pretend i am at sea.. I have never chosen to live in a suburb, that i could not do, I love the open spaces in front of my eyes.. good question Susan.. c
I have been trying to make a decision about moving to the suburbs and have come to the conclusion its not something I can do. After living on a cattle station, and latterly on 5 acres for the past 30 years that wide flat horizon is what defines me.
I also find storms, and the skies exhilarating… will give the tractor-photography a miss though, I’m not in your league of adventurous 😉
It’s those things when we are young that have an effect on the rest of our lives. Whatever I did, as long as it was my best was always good enough. At the same time, I had a friend whose parents always wanted better no matter what, and although I’m sure they meant well, their encouragement of her to do better than everyone else was poorly executed. Both things had a profound impact. Similarly to yours, I’m grateful to my Dad for the confidence and self esteem he instilled in me 🙂
I can’t put it to words, but something inside me warms at the thought of a military man coming home to work on a farm. ❤
He sat in the canvas swinging seat on the verandah and just sighed. Two weeks, he said, I’ve got two weeks.And he leaned back, took his feet off the ground and swayed with the breeze. And that is exactly how it was.
I can’t even imagine living where skies look like that. Here we get big thunderheads out of the blue and then Crash Bam Alakazaam, Lightning and thunder for about 20 minutes and blue skies again. Happens once or twice a summer. You are lucky to have rain, though. We are under a red flag watch for possible lightning tonight…..everything here is tinder dry. My parents always praised me for a job well done. I was taught that if you wanted something you had to work for it. Tried to raise my boys the same way….. Let the guy sway in the breeze for awhile…..then get the fly swap and blow the bugle in his ear……lol
Hi Celi….Well, my comment just appeared as Anonymous. What is up with that? My computer has a mind of its own, sometimes. I think, maybe, it has something to do with switching to Google Chrome last night. Arrrrrrrgh. Hugs, Emily Summer
Your story of your dad touched my heart. My dad’s been gone for over ten years but I think of him and miss him every single day. We shared a love of horses and on vacation one time we were going to go for a trail ride and I overheard him tell the wrangler ‘she’s an excellent rider’. To this day when I think of that moment my heart smiles the sweetest, gentlest smile. A strange thing to remember perhaps.
Don’t think there is anything better for a growing child’s ego than knowing sincere approval has been earned from one’s parents . . . that they are proud of you. I was a real Daddy’s girl and do have wonderful memories myself. As far as those clouds go . . . no, I am totally on the other side of most readers 🙂 ! I hate and fear anything even slightly wild: heavy rain, clouds such as yours, strong winds and thunder . . . . love gentle breezes, foggy days and clear skies full of soft sunshine . . . . well, we are all different!!!
We an awesome memory. It is the little things, that don’t necessarily seem important, that become such beautiful memories.
What a lovely story, and I can we’ll imagine your parents’ pride – and yours too. I’ve also prided myself on being able to lift heavy weights, even though I’m of slender build. My father was also a very practical man and taught me many things, including knots, how to look after tools, make compost and garden. These things go with us to the whole of our lives. No wonder you are so doughty now.
Those skies are not for the faint-hearted. But then, you were a drama teacher too. So you won’t be daunted by high drama in the heavens.
Should have connected there were boats and sea in your background. The big skies are so similar. There’s just something about that broad sky song that feeds the soul and soothes even on the worst day. I can live in mts or by sea, but there has to be big skies or I wilt.
You are right about growing up with work to do and having a well done job approved and quietly noted. Many kids today are lacking that which is sad.
(and when you are little or a woman, you learn to work “smart” at difficult jobs rather than power force through them..saves the body a bit)
Enjoy the sky songs! Each melody is unique