About this time of year every year, I begin complaining to the farmer about the work...his work, not mine.
School is out, he, F2 and the rest are busy cutting barley and wheat, baling straw and planting beans, and with the long hours and hot temperatures it doesn't take long for things to get a bit dodgy around Farm and Fru Fru. It is my job during this time of year to be "on hand"...translated...the farmer's beck and call-girl. I don't mind the job, but pretty much everything else (like cooking, housework, shopping, lunch, vacations, meetings, appointments) comes to a screeching halt if I am "called".
I may be called upon to deliver lunch to a far-flung field. I may need to drive in front of a large piece of equipment like some sort of latter-day Paul Revere shouting "the tractors are coming, the tractors are coming" while blinking my truck lights and waving my hand furiously to slow people down so they are not driven to a ditch by the oncoming farm giant. I might just need to have meals early or late as the case may be, or pick up a part on a moments notice. What I know is, at this time of year, when I am called, I better not say "sorry, I just fell down a flight of steps and broke my foot, I may be a little late getting that lunch to ya", or "I have the stomach flu" if I don't want an earful. A couple years ago, I had a bit of an accident involving a very large barn fan and my hand....don't ask...it took stupid to new heights, but a trip to the ER was called for. After several painful hours where shots, stitches, soaks and broken bones were involved, the first thing the farmer said to me when I was finally able to leave was "what took you so long, don't you know I have a job?" Needless to say the trip home was not pretty.
Women who live on farms will know exactly what I am talking about. Women who don't live on farms will tut-tut while shaking their heads in disbelief. EVERYTHING, hear me EVERYTHING revolves around the farm. I know one farm wife who drove herself to the hospital and delivered her 4th child before her husband could get to town....straw I think. It's a strange way of life...I would love to hear your story ...do share. I could go on but I am being beckoned....must run...
(so lucky to have missy's pretty photos! thanks missy)
Love reading your wonderful stories! They are so entertaining and just so YOU! Thanks for sharing, Sharon.
ReplyDeleteWhat you are saying really rings true...One of my favorite documentaries is "The Farmer's Wife" I loved it so much that I actually asked for it for my birthday one year. This draws a pretty clear picture of what being a farm wife in the midwest during the late 1980's early 90's entailed. Delivering meals each day, complete with plates,knives,forks etc to the farmer and his dad when they were working in the fields. Something about it just curdled my brain. I think it was the entitled attitude of the farmer and his father and their lack of appreciation for all the work that the wife did.( I am not saying that farmwives are not sometimes appreciated, just not this particular one) She pretty much did EVERYTHING around the house AND farm from driving equipment and feeding the livestock to paying bills and talking to creditors. Anyway it is a must see if you want a taste of REAL farm ife from the wife's perspective.
ReplyDeletenedine...i LOVED the farmer's wife! loved it...so did the farmer! fyi...you know they divorced...they did and she remarried! not sure what happened to him.....i really can't complain...i know i have it easy compared to most, but i am always happy when things slow down a bit and get back to "normal!" sometimes you just need to vent!
ReplyDeletethanks sandra~ appreciate your compliment! have a great summer too...
ReplyDeleteMy story: I am in labor with the 3rd child it is 3am. A trip to the dairy barn before the hospitial is necessary. It is Christmas eve the milkers decided to celebrate with a drink or two, drinks turn into arguements and everyone goes home. The arguement continued at their homes and trees and presents are all over their yards. Cows are all in the milk barn waiting to be milked...DH rounds up drunk employees to milk cows before we can go to the hospitial. Glad 3rd child had a longer labor or this would have been a born in the car story!
ReplyDeleteThis documentary must be where DH thinks something more than sandwiches or fried chicken can go to the field for lunches or dinner. Bad news my dinner plates (dh will not eat off of paper) are NOT going to the field. Yes the farm always comes first especially on a dairy farm!
oh my gosh betsey...that is hilarious! you need your own reality show....love it! please post more later!!
ReplyDeleteI loved this post - hearing about farm life ALWAYS makes me realize how ridiculously easy I have it. I hope you're getting through it all this year without too many spats. My only remotely comparable stories are when my tenants need something urgently - and it's 2 AM and I have walking pneumonia or some such debilitating thing - but I have to race out and clean up an exploded toilet or rescue a locked-in pet anyway.
ReplyDeleteoh michelle....an exploded toilet is worse than ANYthing i have to be vexed about!!! so sorry for you!
ReplyDelete