(see photo credit on photo)
My Brother stopped by and is guest blogger on Farm and Fru Fru today....read, then have a great weekend.
I mentioned in a comment a few weeks back, that my sister and I grew up only about 10 miles from were we both live now. (We are about 5 miles apart). Back in the day, we lived in a typical 60’s neighborhood in the burbs, and I never had a lot of experience on a farm. Our grandfather had a farm that we would visit in Lynchburg, but it wasn’t a working farm.
When I was around 14 or 15, I decided that it would be fun to experience farming, so one Easter Break, I got a chance to spend several days working with the farmer. They were dating at the time, and I guess it was the farmer’s way of showing the little brat brother what real work was.
It was a particularly chilly spring break, and most of the days were windy and cold. I learned to drive a big tractor, and spread a lot of manure. This is important, there is a LOT of manure on a farm. Get used to it. I learned when the wind blows it in your face, it is best to keep your mouth shut. If you decide to become a farmer you will also just have to get used to the smell, it is everywhere. I remember complaining a bit about that, and the farmer’s father said … “son, just smells like money to me”
Another eye-opening experience for me as a young wanna be farmer was the whole birthing experience. I was young, and though I knew a little about the birds and the bees, nobody really prepared me for the whole cow birthing thing. One of the farmer’s brothers had his hand in the cow…up to his shoulder mind you, tying a rope on the feet so we could all pull it out. This was long before Billy Crystal did it in City Slickers. Gave a whole new meaning to the phrase…”she’s having a cow.”
After that week, I had a whole new respect for farmers, beef, and milk, and I think it was years before I thought about sex again.
I now live with my wife on, you guessed it, a farm. It’s her grandparent’s farm and it’s smaller than the farmer’s, but we have a few cows, chickens, dogs and such. The chores are the same, there is manure, and cow birthing, and all the other stuff that goes along with farming just maybe not quite as much. Fate is indeed fickled.
One more thing to remember if you want to be a farmer, (or act like one) is that you never, ever throw anything away. I, as the farmer-in-law/brother, will guest blog about that sometime later in a future blog. In the mean time, remember, if it looks like manure and smells like manure and you feel called to walk the other way, maybe farming just isn’t in your future….