The Many Hats a Farmer Wears

Every month the coordinator of our local Farm Bureau Association and I go into our school’s fourth grade classroom to teach “Ag in the Classroom.” This morning two members of the board of directors came along to lend a hand. My husband Joe was one of them. Today’s lesson was about the many hats farmers wear.

We had five of the kids step in the hall to put on costumes and/or gather props. We had them dressed as a livestock manager (cattleman), a weather man, a scientist (plant pathologist), a heavy machinery operator and a businessman. The rest of the class had to guess what professions they were. Then the guys explained how they wear each of those hats on a regular basis.

The guys did great. I think it surprised the kids how much technology came into play for each of those jobs. It probably also surprised them that it’s not just driving a tractor and feeding animals. There are a lot of factors off-farm — even internationally — that producers have to take into consideration on a daily basis when making decisions. It got the gears turning… one of the students (MY SON!) even asked how we get commodities to China or Russia.

We start our “Ag in the Classroom” off each year with a day at the farm. At the farm, the kids rotate through several different learning stations: Wheat, Soybeans, Milo (Grain Sorghum), Beef Cattle, Dairy Cattle, Farm Machinery, Veterinarian. Then each month after, we pick one thing as a theme for our lesson. So far we’ve done pumpkins, pizza (more detailed wheat lesson since we grow a lot of wheat here), candy (yes! more specifically, cocoa, sugar beets/cane, palm kernel oil, touch on international trade) and the many hats a farmer wears.

Since farmers work hard to take care of the land, the next three lessons are spent focusing primarily on natural resources, learning how important it is to take care of our resources, soil composition and what farmers do to conserve our soil.

 

Farmer Entertainment

One night I was in the living room watching the news, when I heard a bunch of typing sounds in the office behind me. Joe was in there. He’s not really much of a computer guy so, naturally, I was intrigued.

“Are you typing?”

Yes, he was typing. So, of course, I had a follow-up question.

“What on earth could you be typing?”

He needed to look something up.

I heard a video start playing quietly. He hollered out to me, asking how to turn up the volume. I hollered back the instructions and he got it done.

I could hear his video over my television. He wasn’t watching a music video or an episode of a favorite show he missed the week before. He was watching a promotional video – for a fuel trailer.

I didn’t comment on the loudness. I was just grateful I wasn’t in the room with him. I have been subjected to other farm-related video entertainment in the past. Not entertainment like watching “America’s Heartland.” I’m talking hardcore farmer entertainment – instructional videos.

“How to Operate Your John Deere 9100 Tractor”

I think I almost literally died of boredom that night. I am not being dramatic.

Anyway, he was moved by the video and felt the need to share from the next room.

“Hey…”

That’s his pet name for me these days – “Hey.” In college it was “Smiley.” Too many instructional and promotional videos, I’m thinking. But I digress.

“Hey… this fuel trailer just pumped 370 gallons of fuel in 11 minutes!”

Now he had my attention.

I’m just kidding. I decided to take the opportunity to use him as my latest status update on Facebook. He was a hit. I told him he was, and he threw some comment my way.

So, to humor him, I asked him to tell me about it again. I have a problem though. It’s really more of a disability. As soon as he starts talking about farm machinery, my ears immediately get clogged and I don’t really hear much. I had to ask him to repeat it a few times so I could get all the facts. He was happy to educate me.

He explained that it only took 11 minutes to empty the 370 gallons of fuel, and that included the time it took the producer to fill the combine, move the hose to a tractor, fill it up and move it to another tractor to fill.

“…and he wasn’t even running.”

God love him. I know I do – bad taste in videos and all.

 

For Jamie

I received a Christmas card from my friend Jamie today. On the envelope flap was one simple little question: “What happened to barbed wire and bangles???”

This one’s for you, Jamie.

I believe I have expressed before that I was struggling to come up with something to write between my column and famous facebook posts. I’ve decided there’s really no reason why I can’t just post that stuff here, too. So if you read my columns or are a facebook friend of mine, you may want to just go ahead and close your email now.

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While eating supper a few nights ago my husband expressed a regret to me.

“Man, I should have bought some frozen cookie dough at the store today so you wouldn’t have to make cookies.”

Wait a minute. Had I missed something? A memo, perhaps? Had I offered to make cookies while sleeping?

Of course not. I’m certain I would not even have been that generous in a state of slumber.

I’m only kidding.

Anyway, he must have read my thoughts – or my face – and felt the need to pull the guilt card. He decided it was time to show his most recent battle scar: a bruise.

Now, revealing a bruise may sound a little on the desperate side. Maybe even a tad on the wimpy side. But you should have seen it. It was at the top of his ribs on his left side, as big around as a golf ball and multi-colored. It was only two days old. Everyone at the tabled cowered and moaned upon seeing it.

The injury occurred while we were weaning some calves. The guys were loading a group into the trailer when one turned and decided to make a run for it. Joe and one of our hired men jumped in his path, and the calf jumped, trying to get around them. The calf was pinned between Joe and the panels. Either that, or Joe was pinned between the calf and our hired man and the panels. I watched it happen, gasping, but it’s still a little unclear to me.

I can’t tell you how many times it’s crossed my mind that professional athletes have nothing on cattle producers. We chase down calves who, at only twelve hours of age, can run faster than most humans and sometimes even a 4-wheeler. Once we catch those calves we have to hold them still long enough to get an identification tag in their ears. Some producers who raise purebred cattle also must weigh those calves before letting them go. All of this commotion occurs while a protective cow weighing in at a just over a half ton is breathing down our necks. Sometimes catching up with a calf is near impossible because that protective cow is not only breathing down our necks, but may also be butting at us or even angrily charging.

This past calving season, after I’d had troubles with a very protective cow, I took Joe out on the 4-wheeler to help me tag her calf. We try to stay on the 4-wheeler as much as possible while tagging. Besides the fact that 4-wheelers allow for fast getaways, the cows seem less threatened when we’re not on foot. This particular time, the cow was pushing her calf toward theh edge of what I would call a “cliff.” I hung in there with him as long as I could on the 4-wheeler, then opted to go hide behind a tree, because I simply did not have time for a “Thelma and Louise” moment with my husband that day.

Anyway, I was hiding behind the tree watching my husband get as close as he could with the 4-wheeler. He wasn’t having much luck, so he decided he had to try on foot. Cows tend to use whatever method possible to protect their newborn calves. This cow decided to start nudging her calf a little over the edge. This sounds horrible, but you would be amazed at how nimble these four-legged animals are, even on the steepest of terrains. The calf started making its way down the bank. Joe had to put himself between the cow and the calf while scaling the “the cliff.” He got it tagged.

I’d always thought he was brave before, but watching him from behind the tree that day I saw how truly courageous he his. He’s my hero – even if my lifespan is shortened by a couple of years now and then as a result of witnessing his bravery.

 

Farmers: We’ve Got Connections

My husband Joe and one of our hired men were moving equipment from an alfalfa field today when the manager of one of our local elevators called Joe on his cell phone.

A fellow farmer was traveling home from town and saw some cows out on the highway. Some deputies were there, trying to figure out who to contact. He stopped by the local grain elevator just a few miles away to see if Don might know who they belonged to. [Side note: if you want to know anything around here, you go to the elevator or the service station.] Our bred heifers pasture on a place along the highway. The cows were out not far from this pasture, so Don thought they could be ours.

Joe made his way back to the farm with the baler, where he met our other hired man. They loaded up 4-wheelers and headed over to round up heifers. When they arrived, the two deputies from the sheriff’s office were still there.

They weren’t our heifers.

Joe started making suggestions as to whose they might be. Ed was Joe’s first suggestion. After a little back-and-forth with dispatch, the officers determined they had no idea how to get ahold of Ed. Ed wasn’t answering his home phone.

Joe said, “I’ll get ahold of Ed.”

He opened his cell phone and made a call to the place where Ed works. They gave him his cell phone number. Ed did not answer. In the meantime, Joe decided he’d call some of the other neighbors so they could at least rule out a few others just in case.

He called Brent. Brent didn’t think they were his and his brother’s, but he’ll send brother Brian over to look. Then Joe called Steve. Steve didn’t think they were his, but apparently his conscience got the best of him and he headed over just to make sure. Joe called Sharilyn. She was out of town, but said she’d call her husband, M. He arrived shortly thereafter. Then Ed called Joe. Yep, he thought it sounded like they were his, and he’d be there shortly.

Joe dismissed the officers.

They were fine with that. They were just hanging around to make sure the cows didn’t need to be driven to the other side of the road, in which case, they would stop traffic.

Ed arrived in the midst of a “coffee shop” session. There sat Joe, Andy (our hired man), Brian, M and Steve swapping “I always get this call when I’m out of town” stories. Ed didn’t answer his phone when Joe called because he was in the shower getting ready to head to his granddaughter’s volleyball game.

The guys all helped Ed get his cows back where they belonged so he could get to his granddaughter’s game.

This is just one example of why it’s so great to live and work in rural America. We’re a community. We watch out for each other. We all do business alongside each other, often times even with each other. We can get ahold of someone when the law can’t! We’ve got connections!

 

Farm Shows

My husband and one of our hired men headed to a farm show for the day.

In the twelve years we’ve been married, I think he’s only taken off a day to go one other time. I started pushing last week for him to “just take a day and go,” because he works all of the time. Even though he’ll be going to talk, well, about farming, it will still be a day of rest and enjoyment for him.

I was folding clothes while he waited for Craig to arrive this morning. I had five tall stacks of folded clothes around me when he walked through the room.

Joe: “Would you like me to start carrying these upstairs?”

Me, confused/surprised: “Uh, only if you want to.”

He did.

When finished, I also heard him taking out the trash and picking up things in the kitchen. That’s when it occurred to me.

He’s feeling guilty for taking a day off to go “have fun” while I stay here to work today.

Bless his heart.

He probably thinks I feel a little badly because I’m not going!

Yeah, right.

Don’t get me wrong. I know there are plenty of exhibitors there that I would enjoy visiting, but here is how I see things going down if I attend the show with him:

I’ll follow Joe and Craig for the first 45 minutes. In that time, we will have seen the first two exhibits — that is, if we haven’t already run into someone from our hometown. (In that case, we’d still be just inside the entrance talking to someone we saw yesterday while out at lunch, or will see tomorrow at the service station.)

After 45 minutes of standing in one area, my blood pressure rising and feeling like I’m going to burst out of my skin if I have to listen to someone talk about the details of how something works (because there will be questions which reiterate the points over and over again), I’ll decide it’s time to take my fate for the day into my own hands and go see the farm show by myself.

I’m not a lingerer. It has to be something pretty special for me to linger beyond a couple of minutes.

I’ll see the whole enormous spread in an hour — maybe an hour and a half.

Joe will be on the fourth exhibit by then.

And I’ll have to sit in the pickup for the next six hours.

Not happening.

No, I’m not heading to the farm show. I will be working on some “catch up” work. Around the house, in the office and for a library board I sit on. Then the kids will come home and we’ll start getting ready for school pictures tomorrow.

That’ll take much of the night. I have a 10-year-old daughter.

 

 

I Love Fall

My favorite season of the year, hands-down, is fall. I love the brisk cool air that starts making its appearance in the mornings, I love dressing up my house and yard with hues of oranges and golds, I love the excitement of high school, college and NFL (Go Packers!) football lingering around the corner, and most of all, I love living and working in rural America in the fall.

My husband, Joe, and I farm and raise cattle in America’s heartland. This fall we’ll have about 2,000 acres of corn, soybeans and grain sorghum to harvest, about 2,000 acres of wheat to drill, 270 calves to wean and deliver to the feedlot, miles of electric fence to build around corn stalk and milo stubble fields, 300 cows to move to those fields for winter grazing, and three apples of our eyes to continue helping with homework, nurturing and teaching life’s lessons to.

I know it sounds a little crazy. How can we look forward to the upcoming season when there’s so much work to do? Those who farm and ranch already know every season brings on a lot of hard work. Fall tends to be the craziest because of the varying production phases that are all happening in the same time frame. My husband enjoys fall because he views it as the “most productive” season. I’ll give him that. However, my real reason for loving fall on the farm is slightly more romantic than his. Simply put, it’s beautiful – but not just in the “pretty fields, lovely weather” kind of way.

It has taken some maturity to see the fall farm season as something other than mere hard work and productivity. But my first revelation occurred last year. As my children and I traveled along our highways and rural roads one cool Friday evening during fall harvest to take meals to the field, I found myself almost swelling, if you will, at the ambiance of our surroundings. I know… you’re probably thinking “ambiance on the highway?” Absolutely.

I’m a very visual person and typically notice scenery as I travel, but admittedly, I’d traveled these roads so many times I thought I already knew what I was looking at. Some of you may know what I’m talking about. There’s neighbor John’s field of soybeans. Oh, and there’s the spot where he probably answered his cell phone while planting (crooked rows). Even when someone is actually out in the field when you drive by, it can still just look familiar. However, travel these roads after sundown during fall harvest, and everything just comes to life.

We met lit-up truck after lit-up truck, hauling the fruits of their labor – soybeans, corn – to grain elevators. We passed fields with combines, tractors and grain carts and, of course, more trucks. The fields were beautifully aglow from the lights of the machinery, families working into the night, even after the elevators close so all trucks are filled, ready for delivery as soon as they reopen in the morning. Occasionally we drove by a neighbor drilling his last acres of wheat into the ground, anticipating – and praying for – a bountiful crop next summer. At times, we were even blessed to find these scenes on both sides of us as we made our way through the county.

I tend to get wrapped up in lists of work to do and don’t always take the time to – forgive the cliché – stop and smell the roses. I’m sure I’ve witnessed scenes like these before, but I guess I’d really never taken the time to really process what I was looking at beyond “there’s a tractor,” or “there’s John.”  That night, the Lord must have placed his hands upon my stubborn head and turned it to the fields we passed, whispering to my heart to look at what we’re doing from a different perspective. It was beautiful!

As we approach this fall season, I’m more eager than ever, not only to witness with my husband the results of hard work and a lot of prayer, but also to take in the beauty of rural America and of what we do. We raise food. We do it to the best of our abilities. We do it with great faith, and we do it with a desire to be stewards of God’s creation.

Whether you’re on the farm or not, let the Lord place his hands upon your busy or stubborn head and help you to see the beauty in what’s going on around you –whatever season it is!