Farmer, a difference makes.

                                                                    By Paul Harvey

Farmers are the base of food production in the world.  The Great Plains of America and the rich land of the Midwest are the sources of that food.

My childhood was spent on a farm in Illinois, where my folks farmed for about 60 years. The things I saw, did, and learned have been invaluable.

What some may not realize but farming is a 24/7 way of life. The money that goes into harvesting grain and taking care of livestock is unbelievable. Money spent on grain and feed has to provide livestock nutrition and the cost of livestock sales has to be factored into costs.

John Deere combine. Great equipment.

Deere + Massey Ferguson + International Harvester.....
 

Rising Feed $$ + Vet costs + cost of tractor equipment maintenance + fuel + unpaid labor are seen in the cost of meat. When the money is lost at the bottom of the food chain, the loss has to be made up by increasing meat costs or reducing herd numbers or both.  

Who wins in this battle?  Not the farmer.

I learned this whenever I needed a new pair of shoes or winter coat.  When you have to pay for your needs, you just get less for more money. 

So, Don't ever blame farmers for the cost of living. They are doing the best that they can, given the circumstances they face.  When a person opens a can of corn or other vegetables, the farmer was there growing them.

 Each clip is about 1 min. long.  Jackson has been in the fields since he  was in elementary school. Catch him in action at 

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Going to see tractors on an field, farmers,  

John Deere and Those Who Love Them

In my stomping ground

My father once told me that I was a farm girl, that is all I would ever be.  My intelligence told me that this would not be.

Now, with a farm girl's genes, I smile whenever I see a John Deere tractor. Given that, seeing the following videos makes my smiles bigger. Yes, I know. These little boys were too young to be doing this, that riding these is amazingly dangerous.

It is a farming thing. 

Grandpas teach the Dads, and then the Dads teach their offspring. The level of safety has increased tremendously. Their parents are next to them, filming them, watching them. But the biggest things are that the parents are teaching them, instilling in them a respect for life and work. And even more important, they are learning to understand safety and how to avoid injury.

Below are videos of children learning that and more. Each is about 3 minutes, except the last one which is 6 minutes.

These are 4 brothers moving hay to feed cows. The youngest

brother (little blond sweetie) is riding with an older brother.

My brothers were on tractors by the time they were 10-12 yrs. old.  In fact, every farm boy was licensed to drive farm vehicles on public roads by the time they were 14. I even had to drive an old Ford to help dump corn for the hogs. I was 9 and I was terrified.

Farm kids are outside working with their parents. Electronics are in the house. Which would you choose?

Autumn from Back Where

This a maple tree outside Mom's kitchen window.

 Back in the Midwest, it was as if my world took a deep breath and said, "Finally." Then overnight my life would be surrounded by gold and red.  But now, my world is a desert in southern California and rich color exists in another place.

It makes me hunger for and a little bit jealous of “back where” there is such a thing as autumn.

Instead, we have wildfire season in California and the fall colors don’t exist, except for a few odd trees. What I do have are photos I took in late October 2009 on a walk with my brother, Don.  The photos taken were put into an album to give as a Christmas present for my mother who was in fading and failing health.

These are memories of Autumn and a small town, in 2009:

Tracks will go on for miles and miles, connecting

with other tracks.

An old house next to the bank

Mom's neighbor.  Mom could tell me who they are, who there parents were...

Small rental apartments next to the train track.  This

used to be a veterinarian office when I was young. 

A house near the local funeral home

After my father retired from farming, he visited with other farmers at the John Deere

store every day.  Sometimes he drove to another John Deere store to pick

up parts.  Now they are ordered and delivered through computer 

magic.

The Methodist Church from mid 1800s.  Young couples 

would meet on benches (out of sight) and talk/kiss.

This log house was saved and then moved to this site.  It dates back to 1820 

and across from Stark Nursery, where the first Delicious apples were

created by someone who brought up a "scion" from Kentucky which

was grafted and cross-pollinated.

This house was restored and is now occupied by some very hard working 

people whom my mom knew.  Yes, she could cite their lineage. We

stopped and peeked in the windows while it was still

under construction.  Mom had no shame, and was friendly with everyone, who 

also knew her own lineage.

This is a cornfield after harvest. Soon Canadian
geese will fly in to grab up corn kernels.
Deer will also be foraging.

Somewhere this road will come to an end.

These are Autumn memories from a past shared by my late Mom, brother Don, and me in 2009. My eyes ache to see the leaves and this part of my family, those whom I love.

A repost from 2014

What Grows in a Field

Lily and Clara trying to restrain Benjamin, unsuccessfully. He took off in a 2 yr. old run. I barely caught him.

Benjamin was unrepentant, in a cute way.

In 2014 our family joined together in Switzerland to spend time with Mary and Richard McKinley and our grandson Benjamin. It was a fabulous time, just can't tell you how great it was.

John and I stayed at an AirBnB in Kӧnig, a rural area near Berne. We booked it after Mary researched it. What she did not realize at the time that this lovely place had two fairly steep gravel roads leading to the apartment, which was on the second floor.  What she did not take into account was that we were her parents in their 60s.

This farmer owned about 4 John Deere implements, all pristine. 

These gravel roads led to a farm; not just a farm but it was paradise, at least to me. We always stopped at the barn and house where an arch of old barn connected to new barn. We rested for about five minutes because we were knackered before striking out on the next hill.


A farm was complete with cows, apple trees, a garden, and wheat fields. Each day as we walked by the farm, the wheat fields were ripening. What caught me was the red among the green.

So amazing, this lone poppy was a bravely growing flower.  

This is on my sidebar.

Within the second week, we trudged up the first hill and saw that the wheat had been harvested, taking the poppy with it.

It will return next year in another place. Poppies are resilient.

Well, then

B-29 Superfortress

 Well, then…

My father began every story with those words.  He’d lean back in the kitchen chair—where most stories were told—and tilted his John Deere cap to the side. Well, then...

Me and Sweetman were on a long run over the China Hump…you know what that is, dontcha?  Well, that is a flight over Burma and China to Japan.  We dropped bombs on towns there... Well, then. 

It took close to, oh say 24 hours to fly there and back. We'd stop over in China to unload food supplies for the hungry Chinese. Then take off to fly low over the waters, so low that we could see the white caps on the waves.  I betcha we coulda reached out to grab some sea water. 

Flew low to conserve fuel.  Plane was heavy.  Man, it was heavy with fuel tanks and artillery.  Me and Sweetman were bay gunners.  The closer we got to Japan, Japs would be buzzing around us like hornets.  Me and Sweetman would shoot at 'em, heavy guns and loud.  Now and then, we’d say, “I got one…”

Well, then.  This story is about a rule we had on the bomber.  The first one who had to pee would have to clean the latrine.  Nasty, bad job.

Ol’ Gandy had to go bad.  The rest of us were pent-up about the mission, we couldn’t have peed for nothing.  But Gundy had to go.

But the latrine?  He decided he’d open the bomb bay doors just a little and pee down them.  Worked just fine.

Then we heard the navigator Ol' Shelton say somethin’ like.  “What’s this?  Yellow sea water?”  He smacked his lips, wiped his face.  “Tastes funny.”

We never told him what it was.  Don’t think he’da like it.

Top row (rt. To lt.): Charles T. Roc, Charles H. Donald, Ronald M. Gandy, Louis E. Peck (my dad), John Sweetman

Middle Row: Capt. William O Ezell (pilot), Lt. Hump Halsey (co-pilot), Arthur M. Shelton, Merril Williams

Front: James D. Waring, Robert Quick

Well, then Dad would stand up, straighten his cap, and go out to do chores.

Some stories don’t need an end.  Others do.

Hometown

A John Deere combine sits at the end of harvest.  It's been cleaned up and is ready for next year.

My father spent a lot of time at this place.  Retired farmers don't really retire.

The Methodist Church is surrounded by golden trees in the fall.

Log cabins are never allowed to crumble into pieces.  They are reworked, added to, and made into a home for the next generations.

These homes are down by the railroad tracks, next to broad fields.  Harvest is done, so it is much quieter, and has less corn-dust.

This lovely home always, always has a seasonal display with an American flag.  I have seen this home for more years than I care to confess, and every year it is lovely.

I wish I owned this trike.

These owners are such talented gardeners.  From Spring to Winter, their yard has color.

Migraines have robbed me of several days.  So I will instead share some autumn photos of my mother's hometown.  It is a 'pictures and a thousand words' sort of thing.