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)