The Story Of The Windmill – Why A Windmill In The SHL Logo

If you haven’t noticed, there is a tiny windmill included with the Semi Homestead Life logo. While windmills and homesteading tend to go hand-in-hand, my story doesn’t really have to do with the full-sized ones that used to help draw up water from a deep well.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love those kinds of windmills as well. In fact, I kind of have a slight obsession with them in all sizes and hope to have a huge working one whenever we find our permanent homestead someday.

But my favorite windmill is the small one that I have in my current garden space.

That small windmill doesn’t even come up to the top of my head, but it used to belong to my Grandma and Grandpa (my Mom’s parents). Up until a few years ago, it had a permanent residence at their home.

The Story Of The Windmill

My Grandpa’s Original Windmill

My grandparents used to live in the country on a farm. They harvested crops, raised livestock, and grew all sorts of garden vegetables and flowers.

And, on their farm, they had a beautiful full-sized windmill. I wish I had a photo of the farm and windmill, but unfortunately, we aren’t sure one exists.

As they got older, my grandparents decided to sell the farm and move to the village near where I grew up. Thankfully, their house still contained a small pasture in the back so they could have a couple of animals. Behind the pasture was wide open farm ground, so at least they still got to enjoy a bit of country life.

The Little Windmill

After they moved to town, my Grandpa bought a little windmill. It’s probably only about 3 feet tall, but I assume it helped to remind him of living in the country and the full-sized one they used to have.

They placed the little windmill right in the middle of their driveway. Grandpa used to be so proud of that little windmill, and it was always a source of enjoyment for me as a kid.

You see, we lived just a mile outside of the little town my Grandparents moved to. If they needed anything, I could just ride my bike into town and be right at their house. My brother and I even helped mow their yard as they got older. So it can be said that I was at their house a lot growing up.

I was always told not to touch the windmill because I could get hurt if it started to spin and my hand was in the way. But I still made a point to spin it whenever I thought no one was looking (as any good kid would)!

The Transition From Their House – The Windmill Story

As my Grandparents started to age, the windmill did too. Eventually, it stopped spinning altogether and was super rusty and in poor shape. It needed a lot of work and a lot of love.

After my Grandparents both passed away, I made a special request to get the windmill. I never had a full-sized windmill growing up, but a neighbor whose land Dad farmed did. I never thought much of their windmill to be honest, but I really was hoping to give my grandparents’ little windmill new life.

Thankfully, no one in my family had any issues with me getting the windmill. Most thought it would be fitting because I was really the only relative at the time who was big into gardening like my Grandma used to do. So it made sense to bring the windmill to another garden space.

A New Location – The Windmill Story

So the windmill became mine! My Dad helped me out and worked his magic to get the windmill spinning again (almost too well because I now have to strap it down during super windy days!). He even had to weld one of the fins on again since it had rusted loose from the support bar.

After he worked his magic, it was my turn. I took to the spray paint and tried to get it looking as close as possible to how I remembered it. While it definitely isn’t perfect, it turned out a lot better than it was when I received it. (Product Link: Rust-Oleum Spray Paint)

After much deliberation, I finally decided that I wanted the windmill to end up directly in my garden space to help honor both of my Grandparents. It’s a wonderful reminder of how much my Grandma loved to garden and how my Grandpa farmed for so many years. I guess you could say that the bond with soil runs deep in my veins!

However, I did eventually find out why I was constantly told not to touch the windmill . . . I got a nasty gash on my hand one day while working on it and it had started to spin! Lesson learned the hard way I suppose!

Now, it’s my turn to continue the story and to tell my kids to keep their hands back from the spinning windmill!

Until next time, thanks for stopping by!
– Chelsea

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