Harvest is the pinnacle of the farmer's year. We recently finished harvest so I'll share a bit of it. You should know that we live in town and our family farm is about 10 miles out with no house there anymore - just various buildings and machinery.
We have gained a farm cat who will need a new home sometime before winter. (husband is allergic) She's friendly, adorable and now has some meat between her skin & bones. Any takers?
A calm twilight after 2 days of wind & heat brings out the wildlife. A fat badger scurried away when I pulled into the farm that evening. Then, as I was finishing up cat visitation, some coyotes started howling & yipping unnervingly close (adrenaline rush/goose bumps.) I saw some hazy figures in the distance & quickly plopped the cat up in her tree and drove off. That's when I realized the figures were four deer observing me.
My 17 yr old daughter & I still both fit in the combine with Alan. Only now I can't see much in front of me & when we get out it takes awhile to walk normal again.
We can still all four fit in the big tractor, but it's humorous, especially when Becca knocks it out of gear with her overly expressive elbow.
Overheard while riding in the combine with Alan:
My son asks via the CB (needing to know how soon his dad wants to dump on the grain cart) "How much wheat do you have out there?"
dad - "A whole lot."
son - "That is NOT helpful."
dad - "I won't know until we finish this field."
son - "Okay, can you now answer my question the way it was originally intended?"
Chiggers like me better than my son. A night without bug spray is painful, especially behind my knees. I guess I'm just sweeter.
Becca - "Why do they say farmwife? You married a farmer, not a farm."
Me - "It's kinda' like housewife."
Becca - "Except you didn't marry a houser."
Mother/son entertainment during a field supper - try to land Alec's hat on each other's heads until Alan snatches it & tosses it into the ditch.
Becca - "They make pink John Deere shirts. Why can't they make a pink John Deere?"
(yes, she was joking)
I am driven by one ultimate goal each night: Keep all the hot food hot until the last man eats!
Me to my Pop-in-law: "Want some peas?"
Al - "Oh my, that was too much last night. I still have that great big cup in the fridge"
Me (louder) - "I said PEAS, NOT TEA."
Next day to my Pop-in-law (handing him lunch): "There's a cookie in there too"
Al - "What???" & looks at me like I'm nuts
Me - "A COOKIE"
Al laughing - "Oh, I thought you said a turkey."
(I love him - hearing challenged & all.)
Al - "Those are some real good pork chops!"
No joke here, I just love to impress him : ]
The men I cook for: one prefers handheld food, one wants all hot home cooking (my hubby-he wins), one loves fruit and hates sweets and another hates fruit and loves sweets. It's a challenge I relish - at least for one week out of the year.
Farmers generally have names for each field - often after whatever family used to own it or you still rent from, or by the closest road or town. Two of ours are super clever - the furthest east one is "Over East" and the newest one, which is the now the furthest west is - yup - "Over West"
I have a good guess how many miles to each field, but directions tend to sound more like this: drive north, turn left at the black top, turn right at the feedlot, turn left at the road that goes by the water tower. Once you go past the really big tree that hangs over the road in a low spot - you're almost there.
And I'll end with my version of the farmer wave. -Innn- (One finger lifted casually off the steering wheel - okay it's a skinny, short finger, but you get the idea)
1 comment:
That farmwife joke was excellent. That's kind of like a good Gallagher joke (sans Watermelon).
Sounds like you guys had a great harvest again this year. Amy has been in solidarity with you the whole time, she eats Peas and Rice like crazy.
I'll end with the metal wave lml.
Keep up the writing. And don't be afraid to share on facebook, you're friends and family will love it.
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