this is from the A2 learning site....http://www.accelerated-achievement.com

 What Business Are You In?

When I was eight years old, my family moved to Barstow, California, a hot desert town. Temperatures often would top 110 in the shade: once I saw the mercury hit 127 degrees (I doubt that this was an accurate reading; it didn't feel a degree over 115). A group of young English sparrows were sitting on our picnic table, in the stream of cool air coming through our screen patio door from our evaporative cooler. These birds were so stressed by the heat that they did not try to escape when I reached out to pick them up. They just sat there.

I picked the birds up, and placed them in a tray of ice water. They drank deeply, bathed, and flew off. Less than five minutes later, they were back sitting in the cool water.

I came to love this small desert town. It was home, and like the birds returning to cool water, I returned as often as I could, until my parents retired and moved away. Today I frequently return to the lessons I learned in my youth.

We had a home teacher, an older gentleman (he was also Stake Patriarch), who would visit with us faithfully on the first Sunday of each month. He too told us the stories of his youth.

He was raised on a farm in southern Idaho. They grew wheat, corn and potatoes. They also had a small herd of cattle. He had a neighbor that would torment his father. This neighbor would point out everything that our friend's father did wrong. The furrows were not straight enough. They didn't fertilize properly. The cultivating was never right. The irrigation was not done properly. Nothing would satisfy this neighbor.

This wise father operated his farm in an unusual manner. He gave each of his boys responsibility for a 20 acre plot when they reached a certain age. The boys were to plow, fertilize, plant, irrigate, cultivate, and harvest. They even got to keep the profits. They just had to replace the seed. The boys made many mistakes. Our friend told us that the first year he had responsibility for his 20 acres, he barely harvested enough corn to reseed the next year. He was very embarrassed, even ashamed.

The neighbor was right. Many things on the farm were not as they should be. The boys were running things, or so it appeared.

One day our friend overheard his father and the neighbor (who was an atheist, and did not believe that parents had any right to indoctrinate their children) talking. His father said words to this effect: "You don't understand you think that I am raising potatoes or corn or cows. I'm not raising any crops or any animals.  I am raising boys . If you spent as much time raising your boys, as you spend telling me how to run my farm, perhaps they would have turned out different."

This wise father was letting his boys learn, and make mistakes, under his watchful eye. He maintained the bulk of the farm and made sure that the family had enough, but he allowed the boys to make mistakes and see the consequences of those mistakes. The neighbor was just a farmer, only raising crops, but he was never a father.

Children do not raise themselves. They learn from their parents, in both word and in deed.

I was visiting with friends from my mission in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania, when one person whom I did not know asked me where I was from. I told him I was from Southern California. This brought to mind visions of endless beaches, lined with palm trees and decorated with beautiful bikini clad women. I explained that I was not from that part of California, but I was from the desert, a place that I affectionately call "the place of eternal religious retribution." I told him, "It is very hot there, as a matter of fact, it was 114 degrees in the shade the day before I flew out here." When he heard this, he leaned over to his wife and said, "Remember that.  Next time you're out there, keep out of the shade."

At first, I thought that this comment was just funny. The more I thought about it the more profound it became, because when you're not in the shade, you are in the light. I learned a song, in church, as a child that goes like this:

Teach me to walk, in the light of His love.

Teach me to talk to my Father above,

Teach me to know of the things that are right,

Teach me, teach me, to walk in the light.

When we are not in the shade, we are in the light. My parents taught my brothers and me to avoid anything shady, and stay in the light. I was the youngest of four boys. There was never any doubt, my parents were always raising boys. Now my wife and I are in the business of raising daughters.

(Note:  Self teaching is a valid approach.  I recommend using it only went there is no other choice.)

A loaded question, I know

What says "homestead" to you?  What kind of people make you instantly think "homesteader"?  What activities bring thoughts of "homesteading" to your mind and heart?

Homestead, homesteader, homesteading:  home·stead n.

• 1. A house, especially a farmhouse, with adjoining buildings and land.
• 2. Law Property designated by a householder as the householder's home and protected by law from forced sale to meet debts.
• 3. Land claimed by a settler or squatter, especially under the Homestead Act.
• 4. The place where one's home is.

To me, when I hear homestead/homesteader/homesteading I instantly think pioneers.  Too many years of television warping my mind I suppose.  I think of the strength of our ancestors who settled land, either themselves or for others as slaves or share farmers.  I think of all the hard work that went into simply existing day to day bak when the world was still developing and growing.  I think of the fathers, many torn from their families in times of war and conflict, standing for what they deeply believed in and willing to stand behind those beliefs with their own lives if need be.  I think of the mothers left for long times on the homestead, sometimes isolated from neighbors, sometimes lonely in the middle of a growing town, but maintaining the faith and strength of the family, waiting on her man to return.

I think of the children.  Strong children raised out of strong parents with stong faith and beliefs in God.  They did not enter into the hardship of pioneer life without faith.  It simply wasn't done back in those days.  There wasn't a 'movement' persay, but it was understood that their faith is what made them who and what they were.  Church was just a part of everyday life, as was the Bible.  That may be the only book they carried with them.  It held family histories, some from this country, most from their 'mother countries.'  The children themselves often carried names of distant kin, some dead and passed, some still alive waiting money to make the journey to a new world and new life.

I think ofthe homesteads...I know they were often not much really, but they were fought-for and special, no matter what size or condition.  Ideally, I envision a nice white farmhouse, not large in size, but practical for a large, growing family.  A barn or two, fenced pens for the assorted animals, at least one good sized garden plot, maybe even more spread out on the land around the home and barn.  A small pond nearby for stock water and maybe a picnic and fishing from time to time.  A larger home, more settled and longer in existence, shows a growing orchard, too.

I think of simple, filling lunches (what were they then?  'dinner' was lunch, 'supper' was the evening meal?)  I see a table with good food, though smaller in portion than what some are used to today.  There is an assortment of fresh vegetables, maybe a jar of jam or a bit of honey if company were joining.  A bit of meat and potatoes, and fresh bread....I can smell the ktichen work of the day!

I see a clothesline that rivals even the largest I've seen myself.  I see homespun and wool hanging over bushes, laid out of tall grasses, and hung on the line in the yard.  I hear chickens in the yard, I watch them pecking and scratching with their young.  I hear pigs in the pen, cows in the field.  Children running home from a day of school.

There really isn't much in my thoughts of country, although in my heart I see country living related to homestead life.  Many of these same visions could easily happen in a small town, a large town or a big city.  They would be slightly different, but not in ways that matter really.  Homesteading, being a homesteader, to me at least, has more to do with the heart you have than the land you live on.  It's the heart with which you live out your days.  It's a thirst for knowledge....knowledge of your past, your heritage, and knowledge of where you want to be in your life down the road. 

I guess I don't envision homesteaders spending long hours away from home, working jobs they don't find joy in.  I don't bring thoughts to mind of a homesteader sending children off to school to have free time for themselves.  I don't bring thoughts of homesteading to mind when I see men and women working to afford 'luxuries' they have rationalized out as needs when they are really just selfish wants.  I can see a homesteader in most folks simply by their attitude of life and how they relate to things in general.  Homesteaders aren't homeschoolers.  Homesteaders aren't land-owners.  Homesteaders aren't all working off their land and home for a living.  Many are, but most of us have to find our income elsewhere, and it isn't always an easy walk with our society these days brandishing new and fancy as a value system.

But in my heart, in my mind's eye of dreams and thoughts, I see a quiet family, sitting at the end of the long day, talking over the many blessings The Lord has shared with them over their day.  I see lamplight, I see an open Bible, and I see contented, blessed faces being together as a family.  Folks are happy -- maybe the day didn't go as planned, maybe something was lost or money unexpectedly used, but they are hapy with the life they have been given to live out.  They are together, they are healthy and they are a family tucked inside from the world around them for the night.

Is this really just a long-gone ideal lifestyle?  I don't think so.  In fact, I pray mightily that it isn't something lost from our grips.  I have moved too far from that ideal lifestyle, I know.  We are far more 'plain and simple' in our living than some, but the world itself has thrown out nearly all of the visions I bring to mind when I think homestead.  I long for that simple life to overtake us again and for things to become basic and cut-n-dried again.  Maybe one day.  In The Kingdom.  Soon.