God made the farmer.

 

                                                                    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 40 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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Hay hey Haayyyy

 

The above video shows the mowing of the hay which is called "alfalfa, or clover".  It is a prime source of nutrition for cows and horses during winter. The scent of fresh cut alfalfa is delightful.

Here is the difference:

This is hay. Horses and cows love this.  Photo below:

 

Hay is off in the distance. This is straw.  This is great for putting into a stall.  Then it has to be "mucked out".  Messy job. This is what remains after different grains, such as wheat, rye, etc. have been harvested.  Straw---it is unpleasant to walk upon, and is used for animal bedding.  Not for consumption.

 

 

My Hometown

T racy Chapman and Bruce Springsteen "My hometown"

 It is July and harvesting is stirring things up in Pike County Illinois. Tractors are on the road; pickers are going down rows to collect the summer's corn.  Hay balers are out in the sun, stacking bales, and sweating up a storm.

My mother always spread a table of sweet corn, meat loaf, mashed potatoes, tons of foods.  And then, she laid out her pies.  Four pies?  I don't know.  I was the bus boy, the dishwasher, and the general cleaner.

What wonderful memories.

                                        Crosby, Stills, and Nash  1970s

 Our home.  Our house, Our hometown. Even though we have grown, moved on, have our own house those videos are in my mind.

 Jason Aldean   Try that in a small town.

 I grew up on a farm surrounded by corn fields, and a smattering of small towns. Without a doubt, every farm has at least a double barrel shotgun, a rifle, and maybe a handgun. Wild animals and wild dogs roamed and attacked livestock throughout the year, even a farmwife could stand with the farmers.

I once joked that if the BLM came rolling to our town, there would be roads of tractors and trucks blocking every entrance. On those and on buildings throughout the business town there would be hunting rifles in the hands of farmers. 

Now, I have no jokes about this being cast as offensive, "Try that in a small town".

See what you think.  I am curious. 

 

Hidden from sight

Wet clothing pinned and clipped on lines
Towels and pants on one high end,
Sheets and shirts other end of twines,
Hanging down low as centers bend.

But, in the middle, too shy to publicly fly,

Hangs the underwear, bleached and white.

Playing hide and seek from those near-by,

Wanting oh-so-badly to take flight.

Oh, for a strong wind to play,
Coming across and sweeping away
The blues, the whites, and the gray,
Onto tractor windows, passing this day.

Bras, panties with hearts, boxers brave

Landing square on a farmer's face,

No dignity there is left to save,

Underwear at last has found a place.

I have had much experience with laundry on the line, years and years of it.  

I wrote this poem with a head full of memories and my mother's commands to hang the underwear in the middle of the second line, out of sight.  "We don't want neighbors to see what we wear." 

 Neighbors?  The nearest lived one half  a mile away.  The lines were behind the house.  But I was obedient. 

If anyone wants to sing the praises of laundry drying on clothesline, go ahead. I will not be agreeing with you. Too many memories of laundry basket after each other has left me with a desire to never dry clothes out blowing in the wind. Sorry.

Today is Labor Day...

Source

Today is Labor Day, and I don’t expect bloggers to be out in huge numbers checking their blogs.  You will probably be eating potato salad, grilled stuff, and visiting with family.

This blog is to recognize all the people (or as many who flit through my brain) who will be working like they do all the time.  These people are the backbone of communities.

Farmers and all people who work the earth to supply people food.

Truck drivers and all  who move products from one place to the other.

Doctors, nurses and all people in medical professions

Parents and grandparents and anyone who cares for a child’s needs

Firemen, policemen, EMT professionals:  God bless you!

There are so many other people who dedicate their lives to helping others and who do not take the day off because it is a federal holiday, Labor Day.  I am sure you know more who could be added to this list.  Feel free to honor them as well.

Source: Fudges Bakery in UK

We are blessed to have them.