Our marriage on March 21st, 1934

Finally. the day arrived, our marriage day, a huge day for us. In the morning, four cars arrived at our front door, with the first car for the bride and groom. The second car was for the parents of both sides of the family and an aunt of Dina, then the rest of the brothers and sisters in the last two cars. And so the procession wound its way to city hall in the town of Sellingen, where we were married by the town secretary. After this brief ceremony we traveled to Vlagtwedde, to the home of Dina’s parents who celebrated with coffee, cakes and a midday meal for all of us. Our hired hand, Hendrik Wubs, would look after the cattle for the day. In the afternoon, at 3 pm, we gathered in the small church at the Weite for the more traditional church wedding, conducted by Pastor Meedendorp, who had just become our pastor a few weeks earlier. As our marriage text he had chosen Psalm 121 where it says, “I lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from.” From where we sat, it was a wonderful service, but then I suppose that is what all couples will say since it is such a special moment and you are open to hearing only the best.

The small church was packed with people who had an interest and cared much about us. Even the Boelmans, the people Dina had served, were there, which we so much appreciated. This, along with many friends and other interested neighbours and people from the church. Right after that, Dina and I went to the photographer, and after that we headed for the Beekhuis farm to wait for the wedding guests to arrive later on. That were not very many since they could all be accommodated in the large front room of the farm, mainly family and friends. It was a cozy evening and by midnight it was all over and the guests were headed home and Dina and I to the farm. When we got there, our hired man, Hendrik Wubs, opened the front door and welcomed us in. He had left the party early so he could actually play that role.

The next day we went back to work as usual with Dina and her sister Iet putting everything in place in all the rooms as well as the basement. The furniture for the rooms had all been purchased from Dina’s money that she had saved up during her career. That evening, we kept walking through the house, hugely appreciating all that we had. Everything was new; the floor covering, the chairs, tables, beds, curtains, pots and pans—you name it. The whole house had a new look and we were very happy, even though a honeymoon was not to be.

A beautiful spring and summer

Hendrik Wubs and I plowed and seeded as well as planted potatoes and had it all completed early on. It was an ideal spring and summer. It seemed we had not much to do, since we worked so well together and everything went smoothly, so we decided to paint the house on the inside. That’s what we did of course, but it all went in short sessions, since we also had to take care of other farm chores. But, by the end of the summer, the paint job was completed as well. Dina did a tremendous amount of work and did the lion’s share of the painting workload. With everything looking nice and shiny on the inside, we immediately decided to do the outside of the house and barn the following summer. However, this turned out to be not as, easy since most of the work was up on high ladders, making it a man’s job.

The crops, however, did not look all that promising, with the winter wheat being spindly from a late frost and very thin rows coming up. In early May, I was still considering plowing under the 6 acres of the wheat and went to see my in-laws to get their views on it. Dina’s father came over and walked the fields with me and asked lots of questions, including how much fertilizer I had used.  I told him 200kg of a certain fertilizer, to which he replied that that was about right, but considering the frost damage he recommended I add another 100kg of the same. The next day I picked up six more bags of that fertilizer and applied it to the six acres, and once that took hold it was unbelievable how spindly stocks became firm stocks, a bushy, dark blue looking field that ended up with the enormous yield of 26 bushels per acre—amazing.

The potato crop had the same problem of spindly looking plants and a cold month of June to boot. On July 1st that summer, the crops looked thin and spindly but all of a sudden, the heat came, and they just flourished, quickly closing the space between the plants and again giving us a good yield. In September the threshing machines arrived, and we first threshed the wheat, which generated enough cash so that we could pay off our debts, including the extra fertilizer that we had purchased on credit. We even had enough money left over to buy baby clothing and furniture for Dina, who was expecting our first baby. How happy we were.

Over the years I had not been paid but simply did the work and lived on the farm with my mom and two sisters, so we agreed that, for my labours, I would be paid with five milk cows, a calf and another young cow, two horses and the current inventory together for fl1200 guilders. From the sale of the milk, we could make a living plus buy the small things that we needed. It was then that I came to realize how far Dina could stretch a guilder—it was simply amazing. She would never spend a cent without consulting with me first. I found this just too much really,  and will tell you this story as an example of her frugality.

One day she had gone shopping in Vlagtwedde where she had spotted a fleece that she would love to have for covering the baby stroller, but the price was fl 4 at the Sachs store. She told me about it when she got home, to which my reply was “well why didn’t you buy it” to which she replied “well, I wanted to consult with you first.” “By now, it may be gone” I suggested, to which she replied “well, why don’t you go there this evening and bring it home.” And so I did.

When I arrived at the store both Mr. and Mrs. Sachs were behind the counter, and so I asked if I could buy the fleece that Dina had looked at earlier in the day. Oh, she said, yes of course. Dina already told me that she liked it a lot but wanted to ask you first for the OK. I felt somewhat sheepish, since I thought it might come across as if I really was a control freak. He came to the rescue, fortunately, and said “You have a wife out of a thousand. if others were to emulate her, the world would look a whole lot different. You have a wife of gold.” Which made me very proud.

Not too long after this visit the Sachs family pulled up stakes and moved to the United States—they detected early on the threatening and darkening clouds over the Jewish people in Germany, just 7 km from where we lived. We frequented their store quite often and they always spoke about Hitler and his regime, the early signs of war and the repression that was already clear to them. So they moved and escaped the horrors of the Jewish holocaust that was still to come. The early signs of war started to show in small ways and Hitler was already cleansing all that would stand in his way—even his senior army officers who would not agree with him.

Late fall 1934

And so, we harvested our potato crop and shipped to the factory with a yield of 280 bushels per acre, which was considered an enormous yield in those years. Even though prices were rather low (I think I recall about 75 to 80 cents/bushel), and cash flow was impaired, since payments were stretched over three quarters, nevertheless we managed to collect fl 2100.The rye yield was also good at 70 bushels per acre and at a price of fl 5/bushel. It all added up to a tidy sum. After we sold all of our crops, we were able to pay off all of our debts, including our loan, and were even able to buy next year’s fertilizer, seed and planting materials—the fertilizer dealer was very much impressed. We both prided ourselves in how we were able to manage our monies and consulted with one another all the time, as well as to plan future purchases strategically. For example, we would purchase fertilizer in the fall and late winter when pricing was advantageous and much cheaper than in the spring when heavier demand would drive up the market price. Ammonium nitrate, in the fall or winter, would sell for fl 4.50/100kg but would go to fl 6.00 in the spring, so significant savings could be had if you managed and planned ahead as much as possible.

A difficult delivery

So, the months moved along and the month of December arrived, the time our first baby would be delivered. The doctor and the midwife thought it would be around Christmas but the two of us believed it would be in the new year. It was the day after Christmas that the placenta broke, which for us meant that the time had come for the baby to be born. But nothing was happening. The midwife was called in, but she came, took a look and then left again.

Two days later, the midwife came again, since now the first waves of contractions had come and both of us and the midwife thought that the birth would be imminent. So she stayed with Dina for the night. The contractions kept coming, but not the baby. The next day she went to do two other, much quicker deliveries and then came to our place again that evening and advised that we had better go and get the doctor. The doctor came and stayed for several hours but then left again, after instructing us to come and get him once it looked more serious, since at this moment there was little he could do.

All that night Dina struggled in the presence of the midwife while I slept. The next evening Dec 30th the contractions came in intense and frequent waves, but still no baby. The midwife became concerned and shouted for us to go and get the doctor so I sent the hired man, Hendrik Wubs, to hurry along on his bike to the doctors residence, since it was now about 9 p.m. in the evening. We were now really afraid as to what might happen. Soon the doctor arrived and finally, finally the contractions started up again.

It was just so painful for me to watch the agony Dina was going through—almost impossible to see and hear. With every contraction, the doctor pressed on her stomach, but nothing changed. They talked about a forceps delivery, but the doctor said no to that and instructed me to help with putting pressure on her abdomen while the midwife would try to get a hold of the baby’s head. The doctor instructed me to put my hands on his hands and press when asked to do so and stop immediately when so told, and yes that helped. After five to six additional contractions the baby finally arrived. Quickly, “hot and cold water” the doctor instructed. I hauled two half pails of water and the doctor dunked the baby from the hot into the cold several times, but still no response. Finally, a big cry and the battle was won. I immediately went back to see Dina who was like dead to me, pale and covered in sweat from the pain and extreme stress. When the baby started to cry, she lifted her head, but the doctor immediately put her down again. Oh how thankful she was that this ordeal was over.

By now it was 2.30 a.m. in the morning and baby Stiny was being washed by the midwife while the doctor tended to her mother Dina. They preferred that I disappear, which I did for a while, but when the baby was ready I was allowed to come in and see but not hold the baby—you can do so later was the advice. It was at that moment that I realized that we were now a mom and dad and so we congratulated each other. I also said to myself that was once but never again. After the doctor left, we prayed together to thank the Lord for this wonderful gift of such a healthy baby girl and for His providential help during these most anxious moments.

The next few days were still worrisome, since Dina was and remained so weak and tired. She was allowed to keep the midwife for a few extra days to help with the baby. At 5 pm, the midwife said “don’t you wish to go and tell your parents about your new daughter” and then I remembered that I hadn’t even thought about that as yet. So I quickly got ready and biked to my in-laws first. I was a total wreck from nerves and worries by the time I got there and could barely tell the good news. They were very worried at first but by the time I had told all of the story they were just delighted that everything had turned out well. From there I went to my mom and sisters and by that time I was somewhat calmer and relayed our happy news. By the time I came home, the “baker” (help for moms who’ve had a new baby) had already arrived, since our hired help, Henk Wubs, had gone to get her right after I had left. And all this on the last day of the year—what a strange and eventful day it had been. We were thankful but had also been anxious.

Fortunately, later in the evening, Dina perked up enough so that she actually started paying attention to our new baby. In the evening, the midwife returned as well, after she had slept at her own home all that day. That evening and New Year’s Day I was home with my wife and baby and how happy we were. Though Dina barely dared to move at first, slowly and surely that improved by the hour. We certainly reflected on those past nine months that we were married and thanked God from the bottom of our hearts for his wonderful provision and blessings in all those wonderful gifts. We were also happy that we were now back with just the three of us and that all the other strangers were gone, so  a sense of normalcy and routine could settle back in. Obviously, life became busier for Dina, but she handled it well. In January the baby was baptized and pastor Medendorp and his wife visited with us frequently, especially when he had a hard time to put his sermons together. His wife too was pregnant at the same time as Dina and their baby girl was born in January the following month. We had become very good friends and talked a lot on a wide range of subjects.

Painting our own home

Time passed quickly, and soon spring arrived and work on the land demanded my time. There’s not much to tell here, other than of the routine farming workload and that, by the end of May 1935, all the crops had been planted and had sprouted well. As mentioned earlier, this was to be the year that we would pay some attention to our home and buildings on the outside, to make it look sharp. We soon got started, without knowing what dark clouds were going to be hanging over our heads before too long.

Some of the woodwork had rotted and required replacement, so I hauled and cut the lumber and placed it where the new sections were to be placed, scraped off all off the old paint and put on the first coat where it was required. All of this took a couple of weeks and of course we also had to maintain the now growing crops in between, as well as looking after the cattle. Hendrik Wubs went to the fields every day to weed and cultivate the land. Dina, in the meantime, was busy painting the windows and doors as well as keeping up our garden which was no small undertaking.

Little Stiny was mostly in her baby stroller, next to the house, gently rocking back and forth. In May/June she was already sitting up, looking curiously around at all that what was happening and of course gained a lot of attention. The mailman, every morning, looked in on her as did the baker, the grocer and, not to forget, our neighbours from across the road. Mr. Buining, the old boss, came every morning to take a look.

One morning the baby buggy was standing in its usual place underneath the plum tree and Stiny was happily rocking the buggy while I was standing on top of the ladder painting while Dina was in the house. Suddenly the buggy started to roll, heading for a nearby ditch, and before I could get down from the ladder she had landed in the ditch. I quickly pulled her, buggy and all, out of that ditch but of course she made a lot of noise crying from this rather great trauma. Dina came running from the kitchen and picked her up out of the buggy and discovered that she had not even become dirty, since she got stuck behind the head cover, but the buggy itself was covered in mud.

From then on, we always put bricks behind and in front of all the wheels. But before long she would crawl all over the buggy and either fall out or rollover, buggy and all. When she was six months, old she was no longer safe in that buggy. She would even stand up and reach for the handlebar, and once she got a hold off that she would rock it to the point that it caused all kinds of trouble as well as danger. Mostly the buggy would fall sideways, and she would roll out—such a little rascal. In the meantime, we had completed the project, except for the big front barn door that we wanted painted in an oak colour but had decided to get that done by a professional painter. However, it never got that far.

Jealousy rears its head

Obviously, the rest of my family could not help but notice that things were going well. Instead of being happy about that, the little devil of jealousy invaded some of my siblings. On a certain day, my brother Jan and his wife Annie biked past our house on their way to my sister Grietje and her husband Gerrit and could not help but notice how nice the farm now looked. That was not good news for them—how could they (Harm and Dina) possibly have done that? That we had worked very hard to get it to this stage did not seem to come up in their minds.

In hindsight, we now know that this was the beginning of them manipulating my mother to put the farm up for sale and in fact, even on their way home, they didn’t have the courage or decency to stop in too say hello. We had seen them come by, and found it very strange that they did not stop in for a moment. However, they did stop in at my mother’s to let her know what they thought and that they had decided that the farm must be sold.

A few days later, my mother dropped by to tell us about that conversation—to me it was as if the ground had fallen from under me. Now, we knew that both families, Jan and Annie as well as Grietje and Gerrit, were in the red after having bought when prices were high, before being hit by a severe depression, while not being the best of farmers, and this put them in a difficult position. Now, they had found a way to engineer a solution to their problems, something my mother had to tell me of course. So I asked my mother “but what do you think” to which her answer was that “each child has an equal right, and I had always said that we should sell the farm then let each go their own way.” At this point, of course, we had rented it for only three years. We then concluded that we should talk about it as a family first and then go from there.

The following week we held council as a family, and no one objected to the sale. Since we still had a year left on our rental contract we would have a year’s time to look at alternatives. It was concluded that my brother-in-law Gerrit Verwey and my brother Jan and I should appoint a real-estate firm, but I refused to participate since “I had no plan to dig my own grave,” as I said it. Then my other brother-in-law, Jan Boven, was asked to take my place, but he too refused. The asking price was to be set at 30,000 guilders and so we left it for that day.

A few days later both Gerrit and brother Jan appeared to ask if I would change my mind and come along to the real estate firm anyway. Dina and I had talked about it after our family meeting and she persuaded me to give in, and so it was that, a few weeks later, the for-sale advertisement appeared in the local paper, much to the surprise of all whom we knew. Initially we had a lot of lookers but no indication of any serious offers, with many indications that those who did come to look thought it would sell at a bargain price.

However, two weeks later we had a serious offer for 27,500 guilders but with conditions that we would not accept, including the request for immediate occupancy-0a real showstopper for us. So, the buyer left, but after a while came back again and made us an offer to buy out the one-year rental for 1000 guilders, in those days a significant amount of money. So, we had another round of family council meetings, with some against but the majority for the deal. Gerrit Verwey was against the deal—he thought it should be higher, and so I was asked what my position was.

Obviously I told them that I was against selling the farm in the first place, since I had for years poured my heart and soul into this property and the results were there for all to see, to which the reply was “well, that’s not on the agenda” but what do you think about the offer. My response was also that the offer was too low, but in the end, it was agreed by the majority to accept the offer, with the exception of Gerrit and brother Jan, who had hoped for more money coming to them. Yes, they said, you have a nice talking point considering that you not only get your 1,000 guilder family share but also the rental buy-out of 1,000 guilders. But after all the discussions, we concluded that was to be the deal. The real estate collected 250 guilders, but that was the responsibility of the buyer.

But then my mother had to visit with our mortgage holder, Mr. Berg, who was not very impressed with the inequity of the deal and certainly let my mother know what he thought of her sending her hardworking son, Harm, packing from the farm that he so ably managed. She certainly felt put in her place by those comments and wasn’t very pleased.

In hindsight we were naive, if not dumb, for not having engaged Mr. Berg earlier, since he potentially could have helped Dina and I buy the farm, since it only required 7000 guilders to buy out my siblings or perhaps just 2000 guilders to buy out my brother Jan and Gerrit, who were the prime drivers for getting their inheritance when they needed the money the most. Unfortunately, the transaction had been completed, but I certainly felt sorry, over all these years, for not having pursued that avenue. I never came across a better farm and I had raised it, from the ground up, from a third to a first-class farm property.

Searching for another farm

So, we start our search for another farm. The first one was a somewhat similar farm located in palace called Tripscompagnie, in the township of Veendam. The first time, I went on my own to visit with the owner, Mr. Geling—a very difficult person, to say the least. His farm had been advertised for 1, 2 or 3 years and so I asked him why it had taken this long, to which he replied that it was because of the depression and that, sometimes, the timing of the sale is not always ideal. I told him that my father was raised close by in the town of Borgercompagnie and farmed in this area as well. He seemed to remember my Dad. I asked him to show me the farm, but he seemed not interested in doing so and told me where to find it and to stop in on my way back.

So, I went and looked over the land, which was in very good shape, as was the barn, but the home itself was bit of a disaster. I spoke with the current share farmer as to why he was not renewing his contract, but he told me that the current owner, Mr. Geling, would not renew with him. Over the years they had had too many arguments and, during his thirteen years on that farm, he had rented it for 160 guilders since 1922 but during the depression could not make enough money to cover his costs and had argued for a rent reduction which was never granted and he had to pay, to the last penny from the money  he had saved in prior years. This had created a lot of bitter conflict, and so Geling wanted him off that farm.

On my way back, I stopped in to see Mr. Geling, but he was not home, and I biked home to my mom’s place and after that to my wife’s parents place so I could get some advice from my father-in-law. (Harm had enormous respect for and liked his father-in-law Hindrik Beekhuis a lot). So, I asked Dad if he would come along the next day, to which he said yes, but also asked “are you sure you wish to move that far from here?” I said “wish, not really, but what alternative do I have, the time is rather short.” That evening I briefed Dina on my exploratory trip and told her about the rather terrible condition of the house and the not so kind owner. Her reply was to leave it alone and look for something else. But we realized that, unless you own a farm, you can’t be choosy and must take what you can get.

So, the next morning, Dad and I biked to Mr. Geling’s home and arrived at 9 am. Father Beekhuis introduced himself at the door and we had a very friendly welcome, especially from Mrs. Geling. So, he asked me “did you see the farm yesterday and what do you think?” I told him the land looked fine, but the house was a problem and that I had to set certain conditions before I could persuade myself to go ahead with this, to which he replied, “so what are they?” In the first place, a minimum three-year contract with a two-year window to fix the home’s shortcomings, including the ceilings as well as a new front door, which is currently held together with temporary boards, walls painted and wallpapered throughout and everything else that needs repairs. Under those conditions I’m willing to sign up for the contract. He started to laugh and said, “so you wish to dictate conditions and tell me what to do.”. I said no, not really, but we do need to live in in decent housing. His response was “well, that scuppers the deal and we are finished talking about it.” And so we left.

Dad’s response was “well, that guy is quite impossible to deal with, so let’s go home.” But, since we were there anyway, and the day was lost, we decided to go and see the farm anyway so Dad could see it as well. We took the detour and arrived at the farm and immediately noticed that the front steps must have been at least a foot from the front wall, maybe due to traffic because the street was that close to the house.

We met the lady of the house, who was very friendly and generous, showing us around and giving us a full tour of the living quarters. As we toured the house, she related many stories about the owners but had not one good word to say about them. Obviously, the current tenant farmer was a hard worker and so was his wife. They kept the place tidy and clean in spite of its deteriorating structure. They had some good years on that land but had not spent money on a house that they did not own—hence the condition that it was in.

Dina’s Dad observed all of this and reiterated that it was good land, but a long distance away. On the way home, we decided to stop in at Geling’s place once again and let Dad do the talking this time, and so we did. But we soon discovered that he was not to be reasoned with and we quickly left again after he restated his intransigent position of not fixing the home on his watch. I pushed back my chair and said “well, on those conditions I withdraw my offer” and left.

In the meantime—it was now mid August and those farms that been for rent were mostly gone and rented out—it was a difficult time for us. Gone were our dreams—our happy life became one of many threatening clouds. At times, we could forget about it, but it always overshadowed our daily activities and our lives. Try and try again but we would come either too early or too late—it never seemed to be quite right.

A Farm in Blijham

One day, my mother’s neighbour, Mr. Kassies, came to visit to tell us that he knew of a farm for rent near the village of Blijham about 14 km north of where we lived. That made us happy, because Blijham was known for its good farmland, but he warned us that the farm was somewhat isolated and back from the main road. That, however, did not deter us. After he left, I said to Dina, “I’m going to get ready and go see it right now,” so off I went. The farm was located along what was called a ‘vondelpad’, a narrow path, good for bikes and sheep but not much else. In the summertime, local authorities would maintain these paths (that, by the way, crossed ditches and streams by means of long planks across the water wide enough for a single well balanced biker) with clean yellow sand, which was great to run on with bare feet on the way to school. My first impression, as I biked up to the farm, was rather poor. A bulging rear stall wall as well as roof—not a good sign.

I walked through the rear entrance and promptly ran into the elderly owner. So I told him the purpose of my visit and he told me that I would have to talk to his brother, who was at the other side of the house, outside in the smaller shed. And so it turned out to be he was working on an old bike and he never looked up when I came in, so I told him who I was and the purpose of my visit, to which he replied that I should see his brother Derk. I said, Well, I just came from there and he told me to come and see you.” “Oh, he’ll show up soon” and, sure enough, Derk did come shortly after, and turned out to be the third brother. With an extended hand of welcome he introduced himself and I once again explained the purpose of my visit and that I was there to see if they wished to rent out the farm. Derk said “yep, that’s the idea. We are getting too old to do all the work and are looking for someone to take it over.”

My appetite for taking this on, after just this brief encounter, had sunk considerably—the place was a mess. But Derk said to come on in so we can talk. So, we entered the side door next to the smoke house. (Farms in that area all had a ‘stookhok’—literally a place to burn peat, wood or coal in a stone fireplace that would have a large cauldron built in to boil water for the weekly laundry and the seasonal tradition of butchering a hog and preparing the meats, sausage  etc. for the winter season.) He opened the door for me and told to me to go on in.

Everything but everything was either crooked or tilted, the doors, everything and the floor was at least a foot lower at the far end of the hall. It leaned so far to one side that I had to put my hand against the wall to remain upright—not a promising picture. Yes, he said, we are used to all this, but brother Jan will fix all of that and straighten it out. That, to me, sounded promising and we also spoke about the crooked wall and roof that I had observed on my way in and that too they would fix up by taking it down and rebuilding. In the living room we met his sister Wendeltje, and after introducing her, he asked her to get some coffee which was fine with her. It was quite heavy on the sugar.

Derk Bosker (as his name turned out to be) told me that the real farmer—Herman was his name—had been the boss there, but had died from a heart attack a couple of years earlier. The brothers didn’t know much about farming, he admitted. Brother Jan was a bike repairman as well as a watchmaker and an overall handyman—he could do anything. I asked that I would like to take a look at the farmland and if he could show me around, to which he replied “I’ll explain it to you but I am not going myself—it’s just a little too much for me.” My reply was that it couldn’t be that far and his sister Wendeltje suggested that he at least walk with me down the path to the neighbour Geert Nienhuis and walk back from there—he should at least be able to do that. And so we went, with walking cane and all.

The fields did not disappoint me—they were kept free from weeds. There was a small strip behind the house and about 3 acres right near the front as well as 8 acres between the house and the road. I asked him how large is the farm anyway, to which he replied, 28 acres. But this isn’t 28 acres, I said. No, he said, but there are another 5 acres some distance from here, clay land next to the Zeildiep (a water way), but which we don’t really want to rent out. I told him right away, it’s all or nothing, so he he said, well then, get on your bike and go see for yourself, and so I did.

When I got back, they suggested that they would rather sell the farm than rent it out and would be willing to provide the mortgage as well. I told them I wasn’t interested in doing so, since I could have done that too with my Dad’s farm. Then I told them my life’s story and my reason for being there, and they found that story actually quite sad and were sympathetic with my position. So now we had to agree to the rental price, but they replied that they would have to discuss that amongst themselves first. My reaction was, surely you must have discussed that previously and that I know of a similar farm that had been rented out for 40 guilders per acre (deimt) and so we agreed quickly on a price of 40 guilders.

So, I left for home and told them that I would be back in a couple of days with my father-in-law and maybe my wife Dina, to help decide on this offer. I went back home in a not all too optimistic mood. I had asked about the other farm they had referred to during the discussion about rental price and decided to have a look at it on the way home. That property looked a lot more attractive to me, with all of the farmland in one section around the house, so the price comparison to me did not make a whole lot of sense.

When I got home Dina, of course, asked what it looked like, to which I replied, “well the house itself is an old mess, but I plan to go there again a day after tomorrow with your Dad and yourself.” “I’m not coming” was her reply. “You and Dad go and decide.” “But I would like you to come,” I responded, but I could not persuade her. That evening we went to see my in-laws, mom and dad Beekhuis, and I asked Dad if he would come along with me to size things up, which he readily did.

Two days later, we took that trip and… boy could those guys talk with my father-in-law. After we went to see the farmland, my father-in-law liked what he saw, somewhat biased by the fact that we were going to be living relatively close by (about 12 km north) and by the owners’ ‘promise to fix up the house itself as well as the barn, even though that turned out somewhat different—as we discovered after the move.