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Wednesday, November 25, 2015

An Actual Working Farm

I've recently been trying to appreciate many things in my life and take 
time for myself which is why I haven't written in awhile.  I've also been lacking 
inspiration on what to write and how to organize my thoughts until recently.

I was at a reception last week when someone asked what I did and where I was from.
I told this young woman that I grew up on a farm and my husband and I live on our family farm now where we grow corn, soybeans and wheat, raise cattle, have a family-owned seed company and now mill grain for distilleries who make spirits.

She let me ramble and talk, shaking her head like she somewhat got what I was talking about.
Until a few minutes in she stopped me and said, 
"wait, an actual working farm?  You live on an actual working farm?"

Pause for deep breath.
"Yes" I replied, "and my husband is a farmer, as his full-time job, on our actual working farm."

I drove home that night mind boggled, but yet feeling blessed that I know 
what an actual working farm is and that they actually still exist and 
that there are farmers working full-time on the farm. 

I grew-up not knowing anything different.  
We lived on the farm.  Town was far away.  My dad and grandpa and great-grandpa were farmers.

The farmers, my farmers, taught me about our actual working farm where we raised crops and cared for animals because other people couldn't, wouldn't or shouldn't.  
We were blessed with love for the land and the work ethic to live and work on the farm.

Even though many of my friends growing up and even today don't understand my farm lingo or what happens on our actual working farm, I feel blessed that I do.
I feel blessed that I know where my food comes from and 
the sacrifice the farmers made growing and raising our food.

It will be 6 years ago this Friday that we lost a farmer, our farmer.

He lived and worked on our actual working farm.
He loved his wife and raised his children on that farm and that land.
And he died on that same farm.

While we miss him dearly, he taught us not to sulk and the tough stuff 
in life is "just part of it".

Mom still lives and now works on our family farm.
My sister lives there too and is now dating a farmer of her own.
And I married a farmer and moved to his actual working farm.

The farmer remains in our hearts and so does our love for the land and our farm
because that's "just part of it".

I am grateful every day for our farmers and their farms.
I am grateful for the opportunity to have loved more than one farmer in my life--
my husband who loves to check his fields,

and my dad who loved to check his and walk the land where he lived, worked and died.

This Thanksgiving, appreciate the actual working farms and the farmers 
who sacrificed to provide food for your table.
Give thanks for the heaven below you, the heaven above you 
and those watching over you.