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.

Compromise & Love

It's another week full of meetings and travel.  

In honor of the fake holiday Valentine's Day coming up, please enjoy my recent article in Farm Indiana.  We celebrate love a lot on our farm and hope you celebrate it every day too!

*****

As the winter nights have settled in and the farmer has been home more, I have thought a lot about “love” lately.  He loves me enough to ignore my frequent shopping bags and my many lunches and dinners to catch-up with friends.  He has the patience to listen to the “presentations” I give each evening to report on the day’s activities.  However, I love him enough to do more loads of laundry than I ever could have imagined.  I have enough love for him to realize I will never have clean floors, and I must ignore the cow manure and dirt to get through each day. 

With love comes compromise.  It’s in every relationship we have with one another, our work, our families and even ourselves.  I think we sometimes get so wrapped up in ourselves that we forget about the others around us.  With the many issues going on in our community, country and world, I sometimes wonder what would happen if we added a little more compromise in our lives.  Maybe, just maybe, there would be a little more love. 

In regards to agriculture, I wish people would understand the compromises farmers and ranchers have to make in order to sustain the farms they love.  Baby animals aren’t on our schedule, so we have to compromise time with family or being away from home to bring more life into this world.  During disastrous weather events, farmers and ranchers have to compromise their own lives and homes to save their livestock.  Just in the past few months, families have had to decide whether to save their own homes from flood waters or to move their animals to higher ground and save their lives. 

Farmers also have to compromise their safety for their work and to bring food to your table.  My dad died while working on the farm, others have been run over or trapped by equipment or lost limbs.  Working and caring for livestock can be dangerous as well.  You can be trapped or trampled by an animal or drown while saving them.

At times, agriculture is attacked for our way of life and our work.  And many times those that seem to judge don’t have the understanding or will to learn about what we love to do each and every day.  I always think, wouldn’t it be nice if they could compromise a little of their time to learn because we compromise our time to feed them?

In our two and a half years of marriage, I have realized we have had to give a little, take a little and commit to a lot for our love.  Compromising isn’t always hard and many times is for the best even if we don’t know it yet.  We may be on the opposite side of an issue or argument every so often, but we support each other no matter what the outcome is or who may be right. 

Even though I am right and believe the floors would be cleaner if he took his boots off outside, I compromise and let him come inside because it’s all for the love.

Life Changes on the Farm

It's been a long and interesting few weeks.  

And it's been too long since I have written a blog.

But I've been tired, hungry, sick and boggled that my life will change drastically in a few months.  

We are expecting our first baby in July and the kid really knocked the wind out of me recently.

I've called it an alien, a weirdo and accused it of being mean to me.

But yet, I have started buying the baby cute toys and clothes.  

 Even though I am excited, it is a little scary imagining that your life will change so drastically.

No more peaceful nights of reading with my husband while we sip on cocktails. 

No more deciding to have date night last minute or whisking away to another country for our travel adventures.

Just recently, I have started to think about all the positive things I will do with our baby and children.  

I will get to sing them songs that my mom sang to us as young children.

I will get to teach them about the ground beneath their feet and our farm life that provides for others.

We will teach them about their grandfathers that are watching them from heaven above and can be seen by the moon, just as the moon can see them.

We recently watched our niece and two nephews one Sunday morning for almost two hours. 

It was nice and crazy......

Instead of a peaceful Sunday morning with french press coffee and morning political shows, we traded with animal cracker crumbs everywhere and Planet Earth with commercial entertainment compliments of the kids' wrestling matches.  

They climbed all over us, would sit still for a minute, and then change positions while kicking you along the way then would be up and on their way to the next best thing.

When they left, I was again boggled.  Not sure I wanted to do this....have children.  

But at the end of the day, they were good, entertaining and full of love and cuddles. 

The baby has been a bit nicer in the past week or so I feel more energy coming on!

I'm getting more excited which means more shopping and I'm sure that will thrill my husband.

When the time comes for our baby to arrive, I am sure our lives will get more hectic and busy.

But we will just have to push on with our sleepless nights and french press coffee.

We embrace it all and enjoy our time on the farm watching our crops and children grow.

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.

Unspoken Lesson from the Farmer: Take 'Er Easy & Give Thanks

  He’s been gone for six years this November, but his witty comments and advice pop into my head at random times.  It makes him seem closer, and it makes me so thankful.  Each year as this month approaches, it hits me—that cold air and that cold feeling that I have been running around so fast that I forgot to stop and appreciate it all, to “take ‘er easy”.

Farmers have a lot of lingo that some of us don’t understand, and “take ‘er easy” is one of them.  When I was little, I used to think he was saying “take her greasy” and thought he was such a weirdo.  Once I grew up I realized that he was saying “take ‘er easy”, “take it easy”.  

What he was really saying is “slow down, Katie.” 

 I never fully understood my dad until he was gone after that November night on the farm.  While I always appreciated him and his occupation, I never really slowed down enough to stop and give thanks as much as I should have. 

Just like many of you, I am usually rushing to get to work or home to a million other things to do.  It’s hard to think about others in the hustle and bustle of life and to be thankful for the people that help make our lives a little easier.  Do we stop to slow down to be thankful for the people that pick-up our trash or mow the grass along our roads so we can see?  Do we ever stop and realize we have the safest, most abundant food supply in the world?  We can get bananas and tomatoes any time of year, but most people don’t understand how they got to our grocery stores or kitchen tables.  

As a farmer’s daughter, I always give thanks for the food on our table.  But sometimes I forget to give thanks for the people that brought it to us and the safety God gave them to do so.  We sometimes are so concentrated on the “what” that we forget about the “who”.  It takes more than a tractor to farm.  It takes hard work, determination, patience with the weather, and knowledge of seed varieties, insects, diseases, soils, crop protection options, weed control and more.  And this doesn’t include the animals that farmers may be caring for in their pastures.  Farmers from around the world are the “who” we need to thank for that food on our table and the variety of options we have for our families.  

Fall is in full swing and the holidays are just around the corner.

This November, take a minute to slow down and be thankful.  Tell someone you are thankful for not only what they do, but for who they are because your life is better, safer or more productive and blessed because of them.  I’m really hoping to “take ‘er easy” as I give thanks for my dad and all that farmer lingo that teaches me to slow down. 

Dodging Cow Pies

 I drive to and from the city each day and hear lots of sounds.  

But nothing is like the sound of a combine humming behind our house.

Yesterday, I came home to the hum of 3 different combines coming from three different directions, and I embraced the sounds while they lasted.

While there is so much to embrace during the harvest, there is a lot to dodge.

I dodge a lot of cow pies on our lane while I take walks.

They seem to not care if you step in them, but they do care that I am in their way.

I dodge my inner caregiver by making countless sandwiches.

I dodge my anxiety about safety for my husband and the other farmers while drinking lots of wine.

I dodge the fact that this is not the time of  year to make "honey do" lists.

I try, really try, to dodge long conversations and updates about my day while I deliver dinner and when he comes home really late.

I dodge the fact that this has been the only place I have seen my husband in a week.

But I embrace the beautiful sunsets we can watch together even if it's for 30 seconds.

When you're married to a farmer, you have to embrace the chores that you usually try to dodge. 

For me, that would be taking the trash to the farm, feeding the dog, and mowing the grass.

I have to dodge the tall grass that is finally growing around my new walkway, finally.  Because really I am still trying to dodge not getting on the lawn mower.

But I get to embrace 10 minutes here and there when the farmer calls and says, "get your camera, we're headed to the pasture."  We took a few moments this harvest to feed the cows some buckets full of immature soybean pods that weren't ready for harvest.

I try to dodge laundry by going to fancy parties at our Indiana State Museum and celebrating our Indiana history.  What's great about our history, is that it always includes farmers and agriculture.

When I arrive home I try to dodge the boys from seeing me taking photos.

When I am in the city, I don't dodge from telling our story about the farm, agriculture and harvest.

In fact last week as I sat in the city at a dinner while my farmer sat in a tractor, I embraced conversations about GMOs, antibiotics in livestock and the fluctuating grain market.

While I don't get to ride along in the tractors and trucks often, I never dodge opportunities to embrace our farm life and from educating people about agriculture.

And while the cow pies on my walks are getting harder to see as the sun sets earlier, 

I have embraced the fact that I might step in one.  

It's "just part of it" as dad would say.  

So I just go along and step in them so I can embrace the sounds of the farm as I watch the beautiful sunsets.

The Harvest Widow

Last night I sat down after making 7 brown bag dinners, drank some wine and prayed that he would come home safe.  And I was thinking about all the other women who are in the fields or at home waiting on their farmers too--

The Harvest Widows.

I'm also thinking of my mom, the farm widow.

Harvest is the most difficult time for many of us on the farm.

I wrote this article in Farm Indiana in honor of them and said many prayers this fall for them, 

The Harvest Widows.

***

My favorite season is fall with the crisp air, crackle of a campfire and crunch of the leaves beneath my feet.  Every year the trees surprise me with their bright, vibrant colors and they remind me to enjoy the moment and breathe that fresh, crisp air while it lasts.

October is the month when fall becomes real, when the favorite fall things become part of our daily lives.  For some of us, the anxiety, rush of emotions and longing to see our significant other are more prevalent and real during this fall month more than other times of the year.  The some of us would be 

The Harvest Widows.

As you read this, there are probably farm wives out there preparing themselves for a long day, night or week ahead without seeing their farmer husbands very much.  There are some of us that make what seems like endless meals to take to the field.  Some of us haul our farmers from one field to the next and others help in the fields right alongside their husbands.  We always make sure there is enough coffee or energy drinks around this time of year and plenty of wine for ourselves.  Our endless loads of laundry and washers fullof farm treasures don’t deter us from supporting our farmers.  And we won’t truly sleep until we know they are home safe, sleeping beside us while we watch them lying awake with our anxiety about what the next day may bring. 

I take pride in my role as a Harvest Widow because I married a man who is working the land to produce food for others and to sustain a family farm for generations to come.  Working the land is a privilege not many of us have and the farmer takes care of it for his family and yours. 

While I talk about being a Harvest Widow to try and explain to people what real life entails being married to a farmer during the fall months, I forget that my mother is a widow who actually lost her farmer during harvest. 

 The air was crisp that night and I was on my way to a campfire when the call came about my dad.  I don’t remember the leaves beneath my feet cracking as I raced across the barn lot and yards that night, but I know they were there.  For some reason, the leaves every fall since that day have been more beautiful and colorful than the last, probably a sign from my dad to slow down and take a moment to enjoy them. 

Each year when fall harvest approaches, I say a pray for all of the farmers and their safety.  I even say a prayer for those that don’t work in agriculture but drive alongside tractors and combines on the road because it can be dangerous so please, be careful out there.  But my thoughts and prayers always include the harvest widows, the women that support and care for the farmers, and the women who have lost their farmers.  I’ll be thinking about them a lot this month as I sit outside drinking my wine listening to the combine’s hum in the distance and taking a moment to watch the leaves turn colors.   

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.

Class on the Farm

My niece will celebrate her 8th birthday in a few weeks and I'm pretty excited about her gift. 

I recently learned she loves "playing school" just like I did when I was her age!  

So she will be getting a bell, hall passes, workbooks, a grade book and more!  

Obviously I am thrilled because I love back to school shopping!

And I recently wrote an article about how farmers need to "teach" more and 

open their "classrooms", their farms, more to consumers.  

You will see my recent Farm Indiana article below.

If you are a farmer, I hope you teach someone about your farm and

 what you are doing in the fields this fall.

If you are a consumer, I hope you ask a farmer about what he/she does on his/her family farm, in the fields and in the pastures with the animals.  Don't assume, ASK!

I'll be ready to teach you from the field in my backyard or with the cows in the pasture next door.

Ask me if you have questions, I'll have my bell and grade book in hand!

***

When I was younger, I had a school classroom set-up in my parents’ basement and acted like I was a teacher, day in and day out.  Before getting on the bus each morning I would visit my class and tell them that they would have a substitute for the day.  I never grew up to become a teacher, but I find myself “teaching” people about agriculture day in and day out.

 

I was at a reception lately, enjoying my wine when I encountered a woman who had been given so many myths about agriculture.  I spoke with her briefly and gave her some straight facts when she said, “I feel like we as consumers are so targeted and given so much information, I don’t know what to think anymore.”  I handed her my card and said, “Email me, I really have so much that could help you understand where your food comes from and why we do what we do on our family farms.  I want safe, healthy and affordable food just like you and I live on a farm, so let’s talk.”  I received an email from her first thing the next morning. 

Then I recently had to defend the 4-H program and bacon.  “How can those kids show those animals and become close to them, then sell them and go eat a hamburger or bacon?  I think it’s cruel.”  After taking a deep breath, I explained the 4-H program, hard work, our understanding of the circle of life and providing for others.  I didn’t get through to this person but it made me realize, yet again, that there are many people in this world that don’t understand our way of life and the lifelong lessons that 4-H teaches our children.  Nor do they understand that cruelty isn’t a part of agriculture and that farmers want to provide bacon for everyone’s table, if they want it. 

Most students will go back to school this fall and not have one lesson about agriculture even though much of what they learn is related to ag such as science, chemistry, math and even history.   I have visited classrooms and taught an agriculture lesson to inner city students who had no idea about how to grow a plant or what cows really looked like.  Cows are in my backyard, but these kids don’t even have a backyard to see something grow let alone hear cows each morning. 

We in agriculture have taken our wonderful way of life and our jobs to provide food to the world for granted too long.  We forget that many kids think that chocolate milk comes from brown cows and that brown eggs are better for you.  They think the food at the grocery or Wal-Mart comes from “the back” instead of our families’ fields, barns and pastures of the countryside. 

There is no substitute for our lives as farmers and advocates for agriculture.  And there is no bigger classroom than the one we live in, work in and dedicate our lives to—that of agriculture and our farms that touch every single person.

 So for those of you who are farmers, I urge you to teach.  Educate someone about what you do day in and day out and find some way to apply it to their lives as the everyday consumer who doesn’t live on a farm.  For those of you that don’t farm, I ask that you learn.  Be open to learning about what farmers do and how they care for their animals and their farm.  If you have questions let me know, I’m not leaving my classroom between the corn and the cattle anytime soon.