Curiosity and Understanding

We survived our first holiday season with our little girl – the first where we celebrated her life and the sparkle in her eyes when she saw the tree.  According to our daughter, “Jingle Bells” is the best song ever written and she might be one of those people that listen to Christmas music year-round (which her father will be thrilled about).

After watching her grow and develop these past six months, her curiosity is quite entertaining.  

Can you imagine how strange the world looks through a baby’s eyes?  They don’t fully understand the concept of life or death, heartbreak and heartache or the good, bad and ugly of it all.  They see shiny things and become entranced.  They slowly start to recognize you and embrace what is familiar.  But honestly, some things have to seem so strange and odd to them.

I feel that way a lot when I have conversations with people about our farm.  I’ve recently spent time with a lot of people who do not live in the country or have the slightest concept of what it is like living on a farm or working in agriculture. 

At a recent girls’ night, where I only knew a few of the women, my friend said my husband was a farmer and you would have thought I lived in 1950.  The curious looks and number of head tilts I saw were quite entertaining.  Then, while opening gifts, she told everyone that I had brought her meat from our farm, again the looks and the tilts.  One of the women looked at me with a strange glare and said, “I could never raise an animal and then send it off to market I just couldn’t.  And then eat it – never.”  Well, I can and I do.

Here’s the thing, I understand that you don’t understand and that you can’t.  But why can’t you understand that I can and that I do?  I don’t know how I’m surprised by it anymore, but it seems strange to me that people don’t understand that farmers and farming still exist and that people still live on farms.  We are just as normal as you but we have a greater fortune than you, or so I think.  We have been blessed with the opportunity to live on the land while raising a family, running a business, making a living and caring for the land for generations to come.  Farming is a huge responsibility that we don’t take lightly and that others would find to be a burden.

And yes, we get upset when our favorite animals pass away or go to market.  But we understand that life and death, heartbreak and heartache and the good, bad and ugly of farming are part of it.  I appreciate your curiosity and encourage you to have a conversation with me or another farmer.  I almost feel relieved when people ask me questions because they do genuinely want to know about our farm.

My daughter’s eyes sparkle when she sees the cows and she becomes entranced with their sounds and movement – I hope it stays that way.  She will recognize that we care for the cattle on our farm but that they are a part of our business.  She will also become familiar with the smell of cow manure and embrace it.  My daughter will understand that chocolate milk doesn’t come from brown cows and all food doesn’t come from the grocery store.  And at this rate, I’m guessing her first 4-H pig will be named Jingle Bells.  She will be given opportunities on our farm and off the farm, and whichever path she chooses I hope she stays curious and seeks to understand others while educating them about our way of life on the farm.  In the new year, I hope you genuinely become curious and understanding of what you don’t know and then maybe the world won’t look so strange.  

When They Go

This farm wife and working mom has been getting used to our new schedule and evenings without her husband.  I rush all day long to get things marked off my to do list, and when I get home I just want to spend time feeding my child, reading to her and playing.  She is growing up too fast so my spare moments are spent with her, not the blog.  So the post below is my recent Farm Indiana article and hopefully when the farmer is finished with harvest I'll have a little more time to write.  

Happy Fall!

***

They go to the farm on a daily basis not ever really knowing what that day may bring.  And we as farm wives see them off never knowing when they will come home.  Farmers leave at all hours of the day and night for various reasons.  I’m currently experiencing early morning goodbyes and the late night hellos, and sometimes a repeat of the same greetings late at night when he runs to check on the grain dryer. 

Miss Mae watching harvest from our backyard.

However, sometimes when they say goodbye they don’t return.  My mom experienced that the day we lost my dad on the farm.  And I hope and pray that I never have to endure that heartache as she has.  I try to be fully bright-eyed and busy tailed when he leaves in the morning to kiss and say goodbye.  And then I try to be at home waiting his return with a smile and sometimes a hot meal. 

When we were first married, he left in the morning a few times without saying goodbye or giving me a morning kiss and I was devastated.  Let’s be honest, I was probably a little more dramatic than I needed to be but I could not start my day without that goodbye or that kiss.  In the back of my mind, I am always prepared for it to be our last.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to work the land that he loves and the animals that he cares for, he has to prepare for his day.  First up, a check of the weather—always.  Next, he makes some morning coffee and maybe some eggs if there is time because you know, there is no burning daylight so a few extra minutes of sleep might have cost him his breakfast.  And he now knows he can’t skip the last portion of his morning routine—the goodbye.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to collect dirt and cow manure that will end up in my washer, I say a prayer that he and all the farmers will be safe as they work so passionately in the early morning fog until well after sunset.  I embrace my dirty kitchen floors and loads of never ending laundry because if the floors were clean and the laundry was done, he would have only left and never come home. 

Sometimes when the farmer leaves now, it’s to take a walk with our baby girl to introduce her to the cows and watch the Indiana sunsets (and to give me a moment of peace and quiet).  And while they are gone, I pray that she learns about the goodbyes and hellos of life and that sometimes they are really hard but they make us stronger and more prepared for the next greetings.

No matter how the farmers may leave us or when God decides to take them, when they go there is always a lesson to be learned.  Dad always said, “There’s no burnin’ daylight”.  And my farmer always says, “It will be okay”.  So I guess I’ll survive the early morning goodbyes and pray for the late night hellos.  I know that he's always working through the daylight and he will be okay and come home at night well after God's paintings have faded into the dark sky to become stars.

The view from our upstairs window--golden corn and God's painting.  

(Don't judge my dirty window!)

A Good First Time Heifer & Her Baby

Just like that, we had a baby and now she's two months old.

I'm not quite sure why time passes by so quickly when you are trying to embrace the most precious of moments, but it does.  Our little Glick Seed has gone from a tiny baby resting in our arms, to a wiggle worm with so much personality already that I'm unsure how my husband is going to survive us both.

I expressed to my husband recently that I thought I was a good momma cow.  

(Yes, this is how I think in terms of motherhood because of growing up on a farm.)  

His reply started with, "No...." which I thought he would say something about not being a cow, but no, like any good farmer he went back to the farm reference.

He finished by saying, ".....honey, you are what we call a good first time heifer."

"Oh.......thanks honey, I really do take that as a compliment."

And I do, a good momma cow is well respected by her herd and the farmer.

I really have to give thanks to my husband for the nice compliment only a farmer's wife would understand and for his patience.  I don't have to thank him for his help because he should be doing that anyway, I mean she is half his.

We respect each other enough to know we both have to chip in and make sacrifices for each other and her.  And when I do thank him for something random, his response is always, "I'm happy to do it".  

And I know he truly means it.

While I will be raising my little girl to love fancy things.....

.....he will be teaching her about the family business and helping her get her hands dirty.

And we both will teach her where she came from and where she can go. 

And now that the corn is turning from it's bright summer green to the harvest brown, the little Glick Girl is changing from a tiny baby to a chubby, smiley baby with lots of personality and curiosity. 

So as the time flies and the seasons change, we will continue to cherish and enjoy the precious moments with our little Miss Mae and those well respected cows.

What Have We Done?

It's a question we ask ourselves regularly these days.

"What have we done?"

"Why did we do this?"

"What are we going to do with her?"

I guess expecting your first kid when you both have been single and independent for so long will entice these types of questions.  And it all has seemed to go by so fast but yet soooo slow at times.

I've learned you can't really prepare fully for having a kid so I guess we are ready more now than we ever will be.

We already grow grain, have planted a few trees here and there and are now ready to grow people.

I'm a tad bit worried our daughter will think we are crazy.

And she may wonder how her parents ever got married because we are so different.

I like to get dressed up and go to fancy parties while the farmer doesn't like that so much.

He would rather sit on the back porch with a beer, cigar and a good novel.

I give daily presentations to my husband, and he doesn't seem to mind.

However, one night recently we were quietly reading for a few hours and I apparently seemed to give lots of many presentations in that time frame.  When I interrupted silent time to say something, yet again, he took a deep breath and looked up from his book.

I said, "I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

He replied, "you have been talking for two hours."

I almost started crying, actually I did, because I didn't realize how much I had been interrupting and for how long.  However, he quickly interrupted my mini-pregnancy breakdown to assure me it was okay and really not to worry.

In the end, it's all about "compromise and love". 

And I think our daughter will learn that from us and we hope she does the same thing with her significant other in the future.

In prepping for baby, I have been all about making sure she has nice and fancy things but also that her family and heritage is a part of every step of this process.

My late father-in-law loved columbines.  

And my sister-in-law, made sure there were some at our family shower.

I love my roots and celebrating, so I made sure to plant a Tulip Tree on my family farm in honor of my daughter and Indiana's Bicentennial.

And I love all things fancy in the country and this diaper cake really brought that all together.

Many people have asked how I have been and if I have gone off the deep end or been more demanding than usual (not really sure why they would think this!).  My husband will honestly say that I have been pretty good through this whole process even if I hate being pregnant.  

I have been keeping a baby journal and it asked to write all the things I love about being pregnant and the things I don't like.  Let's just say the love part had 1 thing and the other side had several.......

I am a people person, so not having the energy to socialize as much has been difficult for me.

I got really upset during the Indy 500 activities and said, "I should be at this event and that thing and really should go to the race."  He looked at me and said, "that's what you used to do.  You are at a different stage of your life now.  Accept it."  My response with a few tears, "you are right...."

When we were checking cattle recently, all the cows gathered around the truck except for this cow and her calf.  She stayed away from the crowd, feeding and caring for her calf while she watched the chaos that ensued in the distance.

I realized at that moment that I am going to be that cow.  

And my husband, who would have much rather been up on that ridge alone like the cow may have to deal with the chaos more than he would like in the near future.

Everyone says that parenthood will change your life, and I have no doubts about that.

But there are some things in our life that will not change when our daughter comes, well they may change slightly.

The ambition to be active and involved in our industry, community and world.  (Don't worry, she already has a suit jacket for political fundraisers.)

The love for quiet, reading time but now it may be with baby books instead of the 

Foreign Affairs Journal and Vanity Fair.

The dreams of travel and planning trips that we will continue to take, now with our daughter.

The desire to learn something new every day but now we will have to teach her along with each other.

The passion for our work and our family farms that we hope she observes every day by our actions, 

love and hard work.

Every time my husband touches my belly to feel our daughter, she stops moving and kicking.  

I think she likes him better which is just wonderful.

But recently he felt a kick and said, "I just took a direct hit!"

I replied, "No, I did.  You just got the aftershock."

In the many years we have ahead of us in our marriage and raising our children, I know that we will be able get through it with our love and support and everything will be okay in the end.  It won't matter who takes the direct hit or expereiences the aftershock because the compromise and love will have made us stronger.

And in several years when we ask ourselves, "what have we done?", we will be able to answer confidently that we did our best to raise our children to appreciate their roots and wings, live with ambition, kindness and passion to prosper for generations to come.

Farmer Optimism

It’s a tough road at times, this life we live and the work we do.  But there is always something to be positive about and grateful for, even in the darkest of days.  I recently read that they say a farmer has to be an optimist or he wouldn’t still be a farmer, and it’s absolutely true.

As a farmer’s daughter and farmer’s wife, I’ve been a part of a lot of optimistic rituals in my life—praying, positive attitude, rain dances hard life lessons and more praying. 

In the 1990s, I was devastated when we sold all of our pigs.  The market was bad and we had to invest and concentrate on other areas of the farm.  This was a lesson in economics at a young age, I guess you could say which has helped me in my adult life.

In the flood of 2008, when I watched my dad look out over our flooded fields I thought all hope was gone.  Then he took us home and said, “Mother Nature is not very kind sometimes, but there isn’t anything we can do about it.  It’s just part of it.  We are safe up here on the hill with good people, food and beer.  We will figure it out.”

In 2009, my dad died during harvest and my family still had to go on.  The local family farmers brought optimism back to our farm as they arrived with their trucks to fill up loads of grain to take to market.  That dark day turned out to be okay, even without him.    

In the drought of 2012, I experienced heartbreak on a daily basis when no rain would fall or heat lightening gave me false hope for a storm that I would have gladly welcomed.  I asked my husband if he wanted to do rain dances like I used to do when I was a kid.  I got “the look” if you know what I mean, but I danced a lot when he wasn’t watching.

And today, it’s the commodity markets.  Prices are down, inputs are high, there are too many regulatory and trade issues that farmers are dealing with, and it’s all a dark reality each day as we approach the planting season. 

For the farmer, planting and harvesting is inevitable.  No matter what Mother Nature will bring, how the markets will pan out or what obstacles God will lay before him, our farmers still have to wake up each day to face the day because there is no other way or another life they would rather live.

It’s really hard to explain to someone that doesn’t live on a farm that your daily life revolves around the ground below you, weather, market, crops, animals and the daily work around you.  It’s a constant worry and a constant blessing that I don’t take for granted because as dad would say, “it’s just part of it”.

There are so many people these days that lack optimism.  It’s not surprising with all the political rhetoric, daily negative stories on the news and more.  However, when I sit for just a moment and look around me, there is a lot to be optimistic about.  I hear the new calves bawling in the pasture behind our house—a sign of new life.  I see green, lots of green (finally!)—a sign of a new season.  And I am reminded of the positive things in my life—which bring me happiness and hope.  The optimism is there, we just have to slow down at times to see it and feel it.

I don’t know where or when I found this quote but it sits on my desk as a daily reminder, 

“The one who cultivates and lives always in the optimistic, cheerful, hopeful habit of mind and heart can never fail.”

As our farmers face a new season ahead cultivating the land and caring for the crops with little known to them about what Mother Nature may bring, how the markets will go or what the crop may look like, they will still try to find a way to remain optimistic.  They have to for their livelihoods, their families, future generations and for you. 

Celebrate the Women of Agriculture

Today, March 15, 2016, is National Agriculture Appreciation Day.

It's a day when all of us in agriculture promote our way of life and our work to others while getting some national recognition.  However, I won't lie, every day is agriculture appreciation day.  

I was raised in it, work in it and live in this way of life each and every day.

And the older I become, I realize just how much my parents sacrificed for our way of life.

My dad was the farmer and my mom was the farmer's wife who wore heels and worked in town.

However, she sacrificed just as much as he did.  

See below for an article my sister Sarah and I wrote for our local newspaper to celebrate agriculture and the women who raise their kids in it, work in it and live agriculture each and every day!

*****

Many things change over the course of a year and even a decade; kids grow taller, the wise gain more wrinkles, we celebrate new life and praise lives as they depart this earth.  However, some things never change, like the core values of agriculture.  It's been the same for centuries.  As our first President George Washington, once said, 

“Agriculture is the most healthful, most useful and most noble employment of man”.

Sure there have been significant changes and positive strides in the way we raise our animals, produce a crop and care for our land but the values are the same.  Farmers produce more with less land, less water, and less environmental impact.  But the core premise of agriculture has been a mainstay and tradition forever--work hard with integrity, provide for your family, grow a good crop and trust God knows what he is doing 

(especially with the weather).

Farmers work hard with their worn hands and calluses that stay with them for a lifetime.  They rise before the sun and many times don’t come home until the moon is high in the sky.  As kids, we liked to sleep in but our dad would come in and say, “Girls, you’re burnin’ daylight”.  He, as a farmer, was always ready to get up and take on the day.  

Working hard and long hours has always been a part of farming.

As farm girls one thing we have learned is that on the 8th day God created the farmer, but on the 9th he created the farm girl, the farm wife and the farm mom.  While our mom didn’t grow up on a farm, the values she taught us alongside our dad were the same--work hard with integrity, provide for your family, grow a good crop and trust God knows what he is doing.  As a young girl she wanted to own a piece of farmland just as much as our dad and she eventually got the chance to do so.

This month we dedicate and celebrate not only the farmer but the women on the farm.  We know they may not be the face of the farm or at the forefront of decisions or farm chores.  However, they do need to be appreciated for raising the farm kids, caring for the farmer, doing chores when needed, caring for a baby calf in her house, running errands in town, and feeding the family.  She is the woman who realizes her floors will never be clean and the laundry will never end.  She needs to be thanked for working with her children on their 4-H projects last minute, running kids to club meetings, and for buying their 4-H showing outfits while she watches them work hard with the integrity she taught them.

As we celebrate Agriculture Appreciation Month this March and National Ag Day on March 15th, we encourage you to learn something new about agriculture or reach out to those working in agriculture.  And as you are eating each meal, thank a farmer and pray for the farm women who also sacrificed to bring food to your table. 

Celebrating Farm Life….Every Day

It's National Agriculture Appreciation Month!
However, we celebrate and appreciate agriculture and our farm life everyday.
Below is my most recent article from Farm Indiana.
Enjoy and remember to thank a farmer this month!

***

I was asleep in bed, enjoying the quiet on one of our cold, winter mornings when I heard the door open and boots stomping mud and manure all over the floor.  I was sure he had forgotten something—his coffee, extra coat or paperwork—and my peace was disturbed.  

“Hello dear,” he proclaimed “sorry to bother but where can I find some old towels?”  I took a deep breath, “We only have one and you used it on the dog.”  “Oh,” he stated “I found a newborn calf half frozen by the barn.  The mom had twins and I have got to warm her up.  She’s in the front seat of the truck now.”  

I sat up in bed, my peace no longer a priority, and yelled, 
“Oh no!  Just take our bath towels, however many you need.”

I worried about this calf all day and constantly asked for updates which I am sure were a bit annoying to my farmer as he tended to the herd and other daily chores in the freezing, windy weather.  However, I got a picture that afternoon that helped bring the peace I had felt that morning back to life.  Our niece and nephew were holding on to the newborn calf who was standing tall and looked warm and healthy.  
They had appropriately named her Frosty.

Frosty lived through that dreadful morning and now runs around the barnyard with the kids like a pet dog.  However my friends’ calf, so thoughtfully named Baby Flowers by their young daughter, did not make it through a similar dreadful day.  She stated that her little girl would be devastated by the loss of this calf who she had grown so fondly of in just one day.  I reminded my friend that her daughter would be okay.  Her daughter would come to understand the concept of life and death at an early age that many people don’t teach their children about until they grow older.  Her daughter would be stronger for going through the grieving process and learning to understand the emotions of what it brings to her outlook on life and the strength that sits within her.

We celebrate and grieve in one way or another on the farm almost daily—the loss of an animal, the ups and downs of the commodity markets, the joy in growing something on the land we own and the weather, oh how we celebrate and have grief about the weather.  

Life on the farm is full of both celebrations and griefs and it’s all very much worth it.  In my short life, I have seen calves and baby pigs die, diseases strike our family’s cattle heard, the fall of crop prices, river waters flood my family’s fields too many times and the sun’s heat dry up the crops.  I have watched my dad die on the farm that he sacrificed so much of his life for and celebrated his life on the same farm that his family continues to work on today.  I have witnessed the hard work our farmers give daily to their family farms and the strength and endurance to keep them operating for generations to come celebrating the good and bad each step of the way.

As we await spring to arrive and pray for a year full of good weather, steady prices and safety for our farmers, I am excited to celebrate Ag Appreciation Month in March and hope you will join me and learn something about agriculture and farmers.  And I thank Frosty and Baby Flowers for their enduring life lessons and reminders that farm life is worth celebrating every day. 

I Stepped In It.....

.....barefoot.  Yep, that brown with a hint of green, wet and gooey pile of cow manure.

I stepped in cow shit.

It's something as a farm girl, let alone a human being, you never want to do.

I've had my fair share of cow shit in life, but this was it.  I had had enough!

It was late at night, it was dark and I was tired.  I headed to the door to lock-up for the night 

when I turned around it was right there, just waiting for me.  

The farmer was already in bed, of course, and he had a long day so I didn't shout.

I just screamed in my head, hobbled my way to the bathroom to wash my foot and thought,

"I was barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen and I stepped in cow shit.  If he would only take his boots off outside or wipe them off I wouldn't have this problem!"

But who am I to complain?  

I have a wonderful and blessed life full of love and laughter.

I have a husband who cares for me and I for him.

We have the opportunity to welcome new life into this world and care for it more than most people do.

But as I was wiping my foot, I noticed one of his "pocket piles".  

You know, the crap that men lay around anywhere and everywhere, little treasurers from their pockets they say.  There was change, when all accounted for could probably help our life savings. 

Then there were the green bands, the lovely castrating bands that end up all over my house this time of year.  

You never really know when and where you may find these.

So I took a deep breath, headed to bed and told the farmer about my shitty step I had taken on the way to my sweet dreams, but he was half asleep already.  

So I laid there, thinking how much I wanted my mom (I mean what girl doesn't sometimes).

I thought of all the random things she used to find in my dad's "pocket piles" and in her washing machine.  I thought of his muddy boots that sat by the back door and his cold, calloused hands he tortured my mom with like my husband does to me now.

And I remembered that time, after a long day, my mom pulled in our driveway with my sister and I to find baby calves roaming in our yard.  She had a bright, red suite on that day--a true statement piece.

She said, "okay, get out girls, we have to chase them back into the pasture."

Sarah and I went running towards the calves and next thing I knew, my mom was running towards us in her pantyhose and bright, red suite.  She was the statement piece.

Now that I am a farm wife and a soon to be mom, I think about the sacrifices my mom and all farm wives and moms make for their significant others and children.  But as farmers, we have to sacrifice for our way of life too.  It's not just about us and our families, but about the animals, the land and other families that we help feed.

So while the cow shit on my barefoot was rather inconvenient and annoying, 

at the end of the day I am fine stepping in some shit to sacrifice.

And at any time in the future, I will be ready to chase these cows and their calves 

back into the pasture in my bright, red suite.

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.

Soybeans, Safety & Sandwiches

I came home one day, actually many days, to these beautiful, ready to harvest soybeans behind our house on the farm.  I was home alone while the farmer was busy harvesting another field.
I decided to be still for a moment and enjoy the view while it lasted.

And when you are still for a moment, you notice the littlest of things like this bug on the barbed wire fence.  

When you are still, you appreciate the small blessings in life.

I'm glad I stood still for those few moments because the next day, this view was gone.  I came home late the next evening to the hum of a tractor and the sight of a moving beam of light in the field.  The soybeans had been harvested and rye was being planted as a cover crop for my new neighbors, the cows.

While I was upset about the beans being gone, my farmer reminded me I need to chill out, it's harvest.  He also told me about how much I loved having the cows so close last spring.  

I do love cows in the backyard especially because the farmer is never home during harvest and they provide for entertainment and comfort.

Some aren't exactly thrilled that I take my walks up and down their "lane" and act like their BFF.

I think they'll get over it though.

All cows and kidding aside, the first few days of harvest are pretty stressful.  Actually, all of harvest is stressful at some level.  But the first few days you realize, and are reminded, of the dangers of farming and the safety protocols and awareness needed during this time of year.  

Farmers need to be safe while working, but the every day person on the road needs to be aware of the risks of the large tractors, trucks and combines on the road.  And they need to slow down a bit, to appreciate the farmer and the food being harvested.

I was visiting grandpa this weekend when we decided to watch my farmer and make sure he was being safe.  He thought we were annoying, I thought we were being supportive.

When we stopped for a moment, I realized what a blessing it was to see one generation watching another harvest a crop on the family farm.

We decided to leave him alone and stay off the road so he could get from the farm to field safely. 

Grandpa and I then headed out to the garden to pick the last of our crop this season.  After picking beets and carrots, we left for the field to check beans.

He picked some, told me some old seed company stories and the progress on the farm and then made me eat a few.

They'll be ready to harvest this week.

Grandpa's hands, and experience, told me so.

We are in our second week of Harvest 2015 and I feel like it's been a little longer.  A 4:00 a.m. wake-up call one week thanks to the calves in our yard, and a 1:00 a.m. bedtime on a Monday the next week.  

  I've made 10 sandwiches within 24 hours and I am already planning ways to diversify the brown bag lunches.  It's harder than you think!

I'm not the one doing any physical labor on the farm, but am trying to be a supportive farm wife and partner.  I'm slowing down to appreciate the harvest and the soybeans.  I'm so excited to have the cows back as my neighbors and I'm becoming efficient at making sandwiches!

My harvest wish is always for our farmers to stay safe.

This year I hope you slow down to stay safe and appreciate the harvest too.